onsdag 27 januari 2010

55 - He's gone




One dark evening in another universe:

Car. Door. Footsteps.

Arrives.

Running out to meet him.

I missed you.

What's that look on his face?

A letter.

But why?

Nothing.

He gets in the car.

Read it and call me.

Leaves.

I read it sitting on the floor.

Realizing what just happened

I cry.

He's gone.


I just used 55 words to describe how if felt having my heart broken when I was 16. If I think back really hard, this is how I remember things. But since I am a lot older now, the thing I remember the most is the love. The happy moments. The passion. The excitement. I remember kissing. Learning about love. And life. And that almost everything in life seem to happen for a reason. My heart healed, obviously. Eventually it did. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?

måndag 25 januari 2010

Lost in translation



I’ve written a couple of texts here, just randomly, it would seem. The only Swedish text so far is a school assignment that actually turned out quite well. The assignment was to write a short essay describing the development of the school subject Swedish starting in the 1800s until this day. I named this essay The Odyssey of Swedish as a school subject and wrote it all in dactylic hexameter. I am such a nerd when it comes to these things. A translation into English, however, was out of the question… Even I have limits, it seems.

So why am I writing this blog… Let me explain. I had planned to start writing a blog for quite some time. Inspired by a dear friend of mine, I decided it was time. I started this blog not with an intention of having 500 followers, but more as some kind of self-therapy. The reason I decided to make this a Swenglish blog is that I am Swedish, but English is a language I used to know. I plan to get to know English again. Sometimes, expressing myself, I find better and more suiting expressions in English. Other times the things I want to say end up getting lost in translation. It is so very difficult not being a native speaker. The irony of this is that at times expressing yourself in Swedish, especially if you’re writing poetry or song lyrics, is difficult too – because it suddenly gets so personal. So it seems, whatever I do, I get lost in translation...

Maybe I should introduce myself. Where do I start, though? Who am I? What the hell am I doing here? Where am I going? I am a lot of people, animals and creatures. There are many roles I have to play and many faces I have to wear. But who is that girl deep inside? Who do I see when I look in a mirror? Who do you see when you look at me?


I am a daughter. A mother. A lover. I am a student. A teacher. A student teacher. A teacher student. I am a daughter in law. I am a sister in law. I am a granddaughter. I am a friend. I am a little kid with pony tails. I am old. I am the girl next to you on the bus that you don’t even notice. I am a neighbor. I am a psycho. I’m totally self-centered. I am a stranger. I am no one. I am everyone. I am anyone.


I am a fish. I love swimming in the ocean. I am a vampire. I lust for your blood. I am a Metallica song. Play me. Play me loud. I am a hippie with flowers in my hair. I am a pacifist with my pencil and my brain as my only weapon. I am a flower. Leave me alone. I am a bitch. I have opinions. I am an onion. Peel me and you’ll see. I am an old oak tree. Sit under my shade with a lemonade. I am a hug. Let me embrace you. I am a walk in the rain. Breathe, and you’ll feel it. I am so very sure of myself. And at the same time, I am so totally lost.


So, I have decided I may need therapy. Blog therapy. Writing it all off will hopefully help me put things into perspective. Hopefully this will make me see things more clearly. With your head full of butterflies and wild ideas sometimes you need to take a step back. Breathe. Not take yourself too seriously. My goal is to figure out what all the people, creatures and animals inside my head want me to think and feel, and to write some of it down here. Some of it will be in Swedish. Some of it will be in English. Some of it will be in Swenglish. Some of it will inevitably get lost in translation.

onsdag 20 januari 2010

All things bright and beautiful



All things bright and beautiful
all creatures great and small
all things wise and wonderful
the Lord God made them all
- or did he?
Someone did.

I just realized I truly love nature.

fredag 15 januari 2010

Svenskämnesodysséen

Här försöker jag skildra svenskämnets utveckling genom vår historia på hexameter. Ambitiöst? Kanske. Nördigt? Definitivt. Inspiration fann jag i Odysséen och i "Svenskämnets historia" av red Jan Thavenius. Fast mest i Odysséen, kan jag villigt erkänna.
Tack Homeros!

Thavenius, sjung om det ämne som länge i skiftande öden
irrade kring, en konflikt mellan kunskapsförmedling och fostran,
mellan det höga och låga, nationalism och kulturer;
svenskämnets innersta väsen för flertalet ännu en gåta.

Grammatik skapar ordning, långt in i reglernas värld låt dig styras
så att ditt sinne inte fördunklas, utan du finner klarhet.
Så tedde sig språkämnet svenska, ett ämne i latinstudiers ledband:
Ordning i elevernas texter innebar ordning i själen.

I ett bredare tidsperspektiv är det möjligt att visa på detta:
Radikalt har olika tankar om bildning avlöst varandra.
Svenska och bildning, begrepp som har fått många olika former,
olika inriktningar, skilda funktioner vid olika tider.

Sådant är människans sinne på jord, att det skiftar med dagen,
sådan som denna blir sänd av gudars och människors fader.
Från färdighetsträning till utveckling, språkets och tankens,
tillbaka till färdighetsträning, man ställer sig frågan om varför
en svenska för bagare, en annan för snickare, en tredje för samhäll?

I gällande styrdokument vill författarna peka på detta:
Ett svenskämne anpassat alla? I konflikten möts enhet och mångfald.
För vilka lämpliga vägval bör göras på den språkliga bildningens resa
i ett samhälle fyllt utav språk och av många kulturer som samsas?

Hör då ett ord, som jag nu vill er säga, och lägg det på hjärtat!
Intet på jorden är fött så vankelmodigt som mänskan
bland de varelsers mängd, som på jorden sig röra och andas.
Ibland rusar hon framåt, ibland vill hon bromsa och backa,
ibland ta kommandot och rodret, ibland villigt låta sig styras.

Vårt svenskämne utvecklats har under inflytande utav just mänskor
som ivrigt har spejat mot framtiden, analyserat sin omvärld,
skrämts av en del fenomen, men lockats och öppningar sett inom andra,
Enligt tidens rådande anda har svenskämnets kärna så formats,
men trögt flyter tiden ibland då det helst vore dags för förändring:
När reformerna så trätt i kraft var hög tid att slipa på nya -
genom att då reagera, gå vidare, växa, förändra.

Det är tydligt att resan är målet och att målet är just själva resan.
Att hålla svenskämnets utveckling levande, här har vi alla ett ansvar:
Att engagerad i samhället, skola, kollegor, och i dialog med elever
forma ett svenskämne lämpligt för gruppen vars öron man lånar,
medveten om bredden i ämnet, med vidöppna ögon och hjärta,
lyhörd och flexibel, o Thavenius, den svenskläraren vill jag vara!

Natten gick hän, och det grydde till dag, och de seglade ständigt.

torsdag 14 januari 2010

Impossible dream

I have no right to feel this,
I know I should try to hide it.
Play along, act normal
like everything's ok,
nothing has changed.

Each time it happens
I get weaker though,
I try to look the other way.
Pretend I don't see,
fake stupidity,
acting normally.

Why must I be weak?
I'm just so extremely human.
The things I crave,
the needs I have -
my soul is in denial
my body nailed down
my mind fixed on a lie

I need your help to grow stronger
I have to fight off these demons
before they drag me down
I need to face the unevitable
and just let go
of this impossible,
unthinkable
dream

Even though I know
it will hunt me yet
at least for a while

Another song. This one was even recorded once. My very talented friend Per created a wonderful melody. Too bad I've misplaced my copy. This song is in my head now instead.

Music is a funny thing. A strong power. And a healing power too. I just listened to three really weird and crazy songs written by a very talented man I admire a lot. The songs made me smile. And I really needed that. I'm under a lot of stress right now, I guess you could say. I'm under pressure. There are a lot of things on my agenda today, things I really really have to do, important things, essays to write, exams to prepare for, assignments for school to hand in. I'm also supposed to prepare food for a family who probably won't even say thank you. Our home is a mess and will remain so until I decide to do something about it. Places to go, bills to pay, people to see, laundry to clean... None of it seems even a bit tempting though. Maybe I should emigrate? Or maybe I should just listen to some more music and sip on my coffee until I find the strength to move on. Maybe focus on my breathing. Or something like that.

I'm feeling a bit lost. I'm not really sure I am where I'm really supposed to be, or doing what I'm really supposed to be doing. I miss someone, and I think that someone is the person I used to be. I'm not really sure how to reconnect with her. Maybe music is the way.

For all my followers out there, this one's for you:

En gång kysste jag en ängel.


måndag 11 januari 2010

She's not here anymore

Screaming out into a void
won't do me much good.
Trying to get through to you,
well, like I ever could.
Listen to the things I do,
not do the things I say.
I'm crying on the inside,
even though I carry out my role
the way I know I'm supposed to.

She's not here anymore,
she left when you entered the room.
She couldn't stand it any more,
she got stabbed by your betrayal,
she got shot down by your remarks.
She cried in you arms.
She got hurt from your betrayal:
She died from you loving her

And nothing I do seems to matter,
no talents I have seem to do.
It seems som easy for you to just freeze up:
Stone face, tough words, hard fists -
so unsatisfied in everything I do.

She's not here anymore,
she left when you entered the room.
She couldn't stand it any more,
she got stabbed by your betrayal,
she got shot down by your remarks.
She cried in your arms.
She got hurt from your betrayal:
She died from you loving her.

Well, how's that for a depressing start for this blog? This is a song I wrote. It has a melody. I like to play this song on my piano when I am home alone. Maybe I should play it when I'm not alone. For a better effect. Maybe. Or maybe not.