Kvinnemagasinet FemelleVåre bloggere








6902196801_4d14bc31bf_bI want to know your birthday and your parents jobs and if you ever heard them fighting or having sex and if you love your siblings and the worst fight you’ve ever gotten into and if you like one sibling more than the other and what you wanted to be when you grew up when you were seven and your dream vacation and the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you and if you’ve been to therapy and if it helped and the hardest thing you’ve experienced and how you overcame it and if you like what you see when you look in the mirror and if you think appearances matter in a relationship or at all and your favorite movie and which books changed your life and the hardest you’ve ever cried and which grandparent you loved the most and if the words “We need to talk” make you sick to your stomach and why and which holiday is your favorite and which season and which color and if you like rain.

14646037250_ecdd6b08b4_bI want to know if you’re scared of dying and if you believe in God and if you have allergies and to what and what your favorite food is and restaurant and if you like to cook and whether or not you care about cleanliness and what your political views are and if you’re a feminist and your favorite flower and song and if you’d rather own a cat or a dog and if you’d shave off all your hair to give it to a little girl going through chemotherapy and where you’d like to live and honeymoon and what kind of gum and candy you like and what you act like when you’re mad and if you’d rather someone buy you silver or gold jewelry or neither and what clique you were in in high school and what you think your spirit animal is and which flower you’d be and who you admire and which traits you wish were more dominant and if you ever worry you’re a shitty person and what hurt you the most and why you ever thought you were worthless.

8557354863_59d36aa138_kI want to know how someone can make you feel better when you’re sad and if you prefer hugs or kisses and what your house looks like and what your dream car is and which celebrity you think lives the most tragic life and why you think people become so cold and what you think about nature versus nurture and if you believe in heaven and aliens and mermaids and reincarnation and The Bible and which feeling is your least favorite and what was the best day you ever had and what would be the best day and if you see yourself as the protector or one who needs protecting and how you deal with your pain and what you would do if you had 100 million dollars and if you think wealth affects people’s morals and what good you think writing is and if you could do it all over, would you and what would you change and what mistake was your biggest and which language you wish you spoke fluently.

11326233424_94c8b7858f_bI want to know how many people you’ve loved and if you loved the person you lost your virginity to and if you realize you’re remarkable and what your enneagram is and how you think we could improve the education system and what you think of people who commit suicide and if you think they’re selfish and what you say to them before they did it if you could and what your favorite memory of your childhood is and how you take your tea or if you prefer coffee and when you last wrote someone a handwritten letter and what the best gift you ever received was and what the best piece of advice was and when the last time you cried was and if you’re competitive about board games and which is your favorite and if you feel pressured to settle down.

Skjermbilde 2014-11-29 kl. 22.48.38I want to know what you notice first in a person and what your top three pet peeves are and if you have any phobias and what you’ve always wanted to do but don’t have the courage to go through with and what you do when you feel overwhelmingly sad and if you ski and if plastic surgery was 100% safe and painless, would you get it and where and why and where you think home is and if you think politeness is important and what you think of indecisive people and if you think there’s ever a reason to go to war and something that scares you and if you believe in therapy and what you want in life and what you look for in a partner and what you want to change about yourself and about the world and who you want to be and who you are. Just tell me who you are.

- I Want To Know You, The Wasted Generation // Jeg synes denne teksten er så utrolig fin og tankevekkende. Bare tenk på alt hvert eneste menneske i verden faktisk sitter inne med. Det er så mye vi kan spørre, lære og få vite om hverandre. Jeg skulle gjerne visst både smått og stort om så mange mennesker som mulig, jeg. Det er så enormt interessant å sette seg inn i andres liv, hverdag, tanker, følelser, opplevelser og synspunkt, og jeg kunne mer enn gjerne viet tiden min til å lytte til andres livshistorier og småhistorier. Fint.

Jeg vet ikke lenger hvordan jeg skal klare å sørge for at nettene blir kortere. Hvordan jeg skal klare å overleve de uutholdelige smertene fra dag til dag når dagene virker endeløse. Hvordan jeg skal klare å bygge meg selv opp igjen fra bunnen av når hjertet mitt er omringet av giftige mennesker jeg ikke har nok krefter er for svak til å unnslippe én gang for alle. Jeg vet ikke hvordan jeg skal holde ut å gjenoppleve gamle traumer fra det skjøre såret som akkurat har blitt revet hensynsløst opp igjen for en hel verden å se og pirke i. Hvordan jeg skal klare å overse de mørke tankene og følelsene som forteller meg at det allerede er over. At jeg har tapt livets kamp for lenge siden. At all smerten har vært forgjeves. Jeg prøver å klamre meg godt fast til det lille håpet jeg fortsatt har igjen om at det ikke er sant og at livet til slutt vil bli verdt eller helt greit å leve igjen, for det siste jeg har lyst til er å tilbringe mer dyrebar tid i dette bunnløse dypet.

Skjermbilde 2014-06-06 kl. 22.40.08

“Imagine there is a bank account that credits your account each morning with $86,400. It carries over no balance from day to day. Every evening the bank deletes whatever part of the balance you failed to use during the day. What would you do? Draw out every cent, of course?

Each of us has such a bank. It’s name is time.

Every morning, it credits you with 86,400 seconds. Every night it writes off as lost, whatever of this you have failed to invest to a good purpose. It carries over no balance. It allows no overdraft. Each day it opens a new account for you. Each night it burns the remains of the day. If you fail to use the day’s deposits, the loss is yours. There is no drawing against “tomorrow”. You must live in the present on today’s deposits. Invest it so as to get from it the utmost in health, happiness and success.

The clock is running. Make the most of today.

To realise the value of one year, ask a student who failed a grade.
To realise the value of one month, ask a mother who has given birth to a premature baby.
To realise the value of one week, ask the editor of a weekly newspaper.
To realise the value of one hour, ask the lovers who are waiting to meet.
To realise the value of one minute, ask a person who just missed a train.
To realise the value of one second, ask someone who just avoided an accident.
To realise the value of one millisecond, ask the person who won a silver medal at the Olympics.

Treasure every moment that you have. And treasure it more because you shared it with someone special enough to spend your time with. And remember time waits for no one.

Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That’s why its called the present.”

- Marc Levy, If Only It Were True

De siste ukene har jeg så og si ikke lyttet til annet enn Sia sin nyeste låt Chandelier, og den er virkelig bare så fantastisk at jeg blir nødt til å dele den her til tross for at de fleste av dere helt sikkert har hørt den fra før av. Den blir lagt ut overalt for tiden, og det synes jeg er så himla velfortjent. Låten er utrolig vakker og kraftfull, og videoen er jo bare helt utrolig særegen og fin på en litt rar måte. Love it.

9333019712_0d6d0d0cdc_b

We all wanted that high school sweetheart.
We wanted to be young in the fifties
with meatloafs and sock hops
and lawns so perfect
they looked like Clark Gable was kissing them.

3776153393_1c01591f60_b

We wanted to be thirteen and alive
and meet a girl that was thirteen and alive.
To walk with her past the grandstands.
To sit and hold hands with, to sit and talk with,
to sit and kiss with, to sit and sit with
like this was something you lost and found.
But that never was.

9239693962_751c7c91e7_b (1)

We once wanted to be poor but not too poor.
To connect this country like Kerouac and thumbs
pulling small town waitresses
into back seats and trailer parks homes
where the two of you would find passion expanding
between the locking of your bones
until morning would come to find you out on the road
with your pockets empty except for your hands.
But your hands would be overflowing with your soul.
But that’s not what happened.

4390894348_3cb9c6c854_b

We once climbed into bed as though between the sheets
was a valley where dinosaurs still lived.
And how we would explore them with a flashlight
catching these triceratops and brontosauruses.
But even he was opened with the dripping teeth of reality.
With the smoke that rose out of the homes
on the corners we once climbed through –
the streets and footballs with which we once threw –
the school desks upon which we once drew –
the windows that sat open,
through which we once flew.
And the outside world of parking spaces and dead friends
came flooding on in, and we forgot what we wanted
and became what we become.
Waitresses and bartenders.
City employees and temp positions.
We are junkies and one-kiss poems
and we cry the stars.

4361955461_115dbd5d26_b

As we write our scars
on dumpsters and electric boxes –
because the only thing we can hear is our hearts
and the streets are the only ones listening
to this blood that breaths through the letters we leave.
We dream to rise out of these burning buildings,
but instead we get buried somewhere beneath them.
Because I know my life is like some high school kid’s notebook –
that kid who goes back and forth between school and home,
stacking the letters and the pictures too close
for anyone outside of his own imagination to read
because it’s through the ink that his heart beats,
that his heart breathes –
and we all wanted to pass these notes –
check if you like me
check if you don’t
check if you’ll date me
check if you won’t.
Because we all wanted the love songs to be true.

And we all once loved dinosaurs.

And we wanted the stars to hold our hands –
to lick the teeth
to fuck us
but they ended up fucking us.

10782869796_b8da081124_b

So let you smiles twist.
Like my heart dancing precariously
on the edge of my finger tips,
staining them like that same high school kid
licking his thoughts using his sharpie tip
writing, “I was here.”
I was here, motherfucker.
And ain’t none of y’all can write that
in the spot that I just wrote it in.
I am here motherfucker
and we all here motherfucker
and we all motherfuckers motherfucker.

4523411238_254de9abc6_b

Because every breath I breath brings me closer
to the day when my mother will die.
And every breath I take
takes me a second further
from the moment she caught my father’s eye.
And every word I carry
is another stone to put into place
in the foundation I’m building to ease the days
and help erase something I never saw –
what all of us wanted and what none of us got –
what we all had and have and what we all forgot –
that we all wanted to be something –
that we all became something.
And it may not be what we once thought it would be,
but something is still something
and like some cats say,
something’s better than nothing.
Feet are smarter than an engine,
and dreams are stronger than thighs.
And questions are the only answers we need
to know that we are as alive
as a time when I held the mind of a child asking:
Why is 2 + 3 always equal to 5?
Where do people go when they die?
What made the beauty of the moon -
the beauty of the sea?
Did that beauty make you?
Did that beauty make me?
Will it make me something?

Will I be something?

Am I something?

3658866970_9b863f1e0a_b

And the answer comes:

You already are.
You always were.
And you still have time to be.

Anis Mojgani, Here Am I

Denne låten får meg i skikkelig sommerstemning, og jeg synes videoen er så utrolig fin. Jeg får lyst til å lytte til den en solfylt dag kjørende på en lang landevei med vinduene nedrullet og vind i håret, eller mens jeg sitter på et fly til et helt nytt og spennende sted og beundrer og fascineres av alle de fine skyene og at det faktisk er mulig å sitte så langt oppi himmelen og se utover på den måten.