Your wheels are turning but you’re upside down
You say when he hits you, you don’t mind
Because when he hurts you, you feel alive
Is that what it is
Red lights, gray morning
You stumble out of a hole in the ground
A vampire or a victim
It depends on who’s around
— Faraway, So Close! U2
I am tired. More than anything else, I am tired. Of not sleeping. Of trying to drench the pain in meaningless activities. Of the rage. Of idiots. Of “vampires and victims”. Of having to come back to Sweden. Of Sweden. Of Tiny Toon. Of seeing him wherever I look. Of knowing that he is not coming back. Of writing. Of crying. Of not being able to cry. Of the absence of choices. Of not having the freedom to leave, to cease to exist. Of you. Of myself. My wheels are turning – I guess – but I am upside down.
The Void 
Me too. I am tired. Of all this hypocrisy. Of this absurd average. Of trying to behave. Of awarded idiots. Of those who preach god. Of those who preach peace. Of those who preach love. Of those who are quick to praise. Of knowing that your son is not coming back when I am looking in the eyes of my son. Of the absence of words of condolence. Of not having any strong reasons to tell you should exist. Yet, you should. And that is all.
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