Before I forget-

I want you to be on social media.

I want to be sharing memes and images with you.

Videos.

Music.

I want to be showing you how much I’m reminded of you.

What makes me think or remind me that I love you.

I want to be doing that as often with you as I do it with everyone else in my life.

And it hurts that I’m not doing it with you, at least when I think about it.

I’ve said it before, I’m not asking you to get back together with me-

I just want a dialogue,

To communicate.

But maybe you want more.

Even though you’re displaying that you want less.

I don’t know-

But I know what I want.

At least when it comes to you.

It hurts.

It hurts knowing that it doesn’t matter.

That all of my thoughts and hypotheses will lead to nothing.

That I’ll never get closure.

That you want nothing to do with me.

I hurts knowing that I’ll be subject to this wondering, this wandering for god knows how many years before I did something or someone else.

It just hurts, recovering from a night of drinking and fun.

Alone at 6 in the morning, my friends on the couch and me knowing I should get some sleep for the day ahead but still pondering the thoughts of a relationship long passed.

it just fucking hurts, sometimes even physically, knowing that you won’t be there.

And I wish it wouldn’t.

But it does.

It hurts.

Israel

I remember on MSN chat when you asked me

“Is Israel a country or a place” or something like that, and from my biblical reference and memory, I said it was a “city.”

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C7llAQst-zn/?igsh=enkzcHE2MXgzcWEw

Anyway, I’m pro Palestine now, and I wonder where your politics align.

Maybe I’ll never know, and it doesn’t matter, but still, at least for now, that question you asked me so long ago on MSN messenger haunts me.

You’re probably far away from that, tending to what’s in front of you, who loves you and who you love, but for me, I’m reliving the past I the present.

I can only hope you’re pro Palestine, but as I co your to write without a response, I feel you’re more and more diametrically opposed to me, and not even because it makes sense to be, but only for the fact that you want to drive the wedge deeper and create a space even further between us.

And as I continue loving your memory, I wonder how I’m supposed to go on in this world, looking for love, trying to find an equal or greater than how I feel or felt for you.

From the river to the sea.

I’m drunk

I love you.

You know that.

I know that.

Or maybe I love the memory of you.

You know that.

I know that.

I’m drunk.

I wish I could just tell you.

Ah!

Goddammit!

Ahhhhhh!

I love you.

I’m so drunk.

I’m So so so so so drunk.

I wish I was drunk with you.

I wish I was sharing memes with you.

I wish I was talking to you.

I wish I was holding you.

I wish I was fucking you.

I wish I was having sex with you.

I wish I was making love to you.

I wish I was staring my life with you.

I wish I was having a future with you.

Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!

Maybe I should become fluent in Norwegian for closure.

But the I’d have to become fluent in Swedish.

And maybe Danish.

I hate this.

I hate this feeling in my stomach.

I hate my thoughts.

I hate my heart.

I hate this.

But I can’t die.

I have to believe there’s something beautiful. Promising beyond this.

I have to live for my family.

I have to live for myself.

I have to live!

I HAVE TO LIVE!!!

It’s hard to live…

I kept that xanga message

You’re not the same person you were when you dated me.

So there’s no reason to think you’d fuck me when I’m having a night with my friends, if we were living together, and one of my friends would go into the room after me, if I weren’t paying attention, and fuck you again.

There’s no reason to think something like that, right?

If we’re never going to be together again, then why am I thinking it?

Jesus.

It’s been a while…

It’s been a while since I’ve smoked and drank in excess.

Some friends are over, and we’re partying the way that we do.

I feel like you’d like one of my friends, more than me, it pisses me off.

And then I think about the other people from your side of the world that I’m okay with, and laying bare the truth of my expeditions.

I think about having sex with you with my friends over.

Kissing you.

All these thoughts ring through my head as I drain the lizard, and I laugh.

Of course I’m thinking of you, if any of the last 72+ hours make a difference, of course I’m think g of you, even if I don’t want to be.

But I’m not thinking of anyone else.

I’ve prevented myself from thinking of anyone else.

It might be a good idea to change that, but also, I don’t think I’m in any position to.

Cheers!

Just now-

It’s 3:18AM

June 8th, 2024

I’m watching a YouTube video and the voices morphed the speakers in the video to say

“Uh Yahomied I understand how you feel but I am not interested”

“And you are not Ingeborg”

“If her husband left she would be devastated”

And-

I don’t know where this comes from, and I don’t need it.

You said you were an atheist and I’m not blaming god or anything but I’d like to know why the “Universe” or “Karma” or whatever you can explain away as a higher power is playing with my head and heartstrings.

Because I feel like two different people or more in one body.

I’ve said this before: I know all the logical and rational reasons why we aren’t “us” but is there something else in me calling out to the abyss for more reasons?

Something, someone other than the conscious mind I normally occupy?

What is this?

What is the brain?

What is mind?

Soul?!

It’s so vexing.

But I’m beyond madness now.

So long as I keep taking my medication at least.

Mind on Fire

I don’t know what it is recently, I’m taking my medication, and again, I think that’s a sign for me and not you-

But I don’t know what it is, I can’t stop thinking about you.

Your father.

Howard.

I’m just spiraling.

I’m getting it out of my head, writing it down, typing it out, cause if I held onto it I’d be gnashing my teeth and having migraines.

I wish we worked out.

That’s all I can seem to do.

I wrote on Twitter today that the universe/god has blessed me with divine timing before, and I don’t know of were a case for that but that little man that reminds me of that golden glow wants me to hold out hope.

It feels so stupid tho.

Like I just want to rot away.

Normal..?

I wonder if before the psychosis, I thought about you as much as I seem to write about you.

It’s normal, healthy to express yourself, but should I be giving it this much thought?

I wonder.

I’m certain I thought about you enough.

Remember that piece of mail I sent you and you sent it back? With the art work, and the writing? And then, I can’t remember if I made that with my mind virus or without it.

Ah well.

Grasping at Straws

There’s a couple that streams online, a black guy and a Norwegian girl.

Of course they remind me of us, in a way.

I didn’t really follow the girl until a few moments ago and of course, she has nothing to do with you, I don’t think she ever would, and I have nothing in common with the guy.

I don’t watch enough to know if their relationship is working out.

But as an online personality, he may already be a millionaire. Not that that would’ve kept you by my side.

She also misses home, but it feels like she has the freedom to visit whenever she wants, whenever she can.

I don’t know what I’m searching for, I just know it isn’t there, on their profiles.

But still, I look for it.

Super Heroes

One thing I’ve wondered about since reading the statistic that Norwegians read comic books, I wondered if we’d talk about the recent stories in Marvel.

The King in Black

AXE: Avengers Versis X-Men

Krakoa Saga

Maybe not you, maybe Howard, if we were friends.

I’d like that. I think it would be fun.

And I’m sure, with my psychosis brain I’d be thinking, “I wonder if this reads like, all their friends and exes that they attributed to heroes, meeting and having an all out brawl?”

But I’d be interested in how you interpret the characters, how you relate to them, how they speak to you, who’s your favorite.

I haven’t been reading mainstream comics, but I have been reading some graphic novels, and I know, manga is banned in Norway, or was, but I read a lot of that as well. I’d be happy to share.

Just a thought that crossed my mind.

What do I even want?

Gotta be honest, I’d be a little embarrassed if you said you wanted me.

I don’t have a degree.

I don’t think I make enough money.

I’m out of shape.

I still enjoy the things I enjoyed as a child/teenager and I feel like you’d try to shame me for that.

The person that would shame me for these things isn’t the person I want however… so who, or what do I want?

It runs through my head all the time: you get an apartment that’s local to the area, I move in, we begin our life together.

Or you get an apartment, I still live here, somehow I’m paying for two places, I have to meet in the middle.

Or you live with us, and my brother doesn’t want that, you probably don’t want that.

It’s unsustainable, I just have to think about it for a bit longer than the feeling lasts, right?

Maybe there’s another reason as to why we aren’t communicating.

There’s another reason why I can’t paint everyone in that part of the world with the broad brush that you gave me.

There’s another reason why I can’t just bottle up all my emotion and close my heart, steel my mind.

But I can’t inquiry that divine revelation.

I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and one day, maybe I’ll be someone you’d be proud to be with, again, because maybe you were already.

But by the time I’m him, will I even feel the same?

🤦🏾‍♂️

ZYN/Snus

They sell Snus at 7-Eleven here in America now, the brand is called “ZYN.”

I used to buy it and think of you, but I’m not addicted to it, maybe because you gave me the real stuff so long ago… and also probably because I had the real stuff again in prison…

But every time I’m in the convenience store and someone buys it you flash into my mind.

And I’m taking my meditation.

And I’m writing here instead of writing to you-

But still I’m visited by these hallucinations, filling me with fear and hope.

I started writing this because I’m listening to a podcast and they mentioned “ZYN” again.

I wonder, what your husband, Howard, has that I don’t.

I imagine it’s a complete and full understanding of Norwegian History and social customs, something you wouldn’t need in America, but something you might miss, having grown up with it, and abandoning it.

Still, as I go about my life I learn more and more about Nordic way of life and customs from various books, YouTube videos, and friends, enriching my experience, clearing away my ignorance.

I’m not sure how much it will matter, but maybe when I decided to become fluent in Norwegian, when I can move past that mental barrier, when I can visit Norway without being arrested, maybe then it’ll make a difference.

Until then I suppose I’ll focus on Swedish, or leaning Danish. Everyone says they want to get out of America, as we watch the fall of our empire, but I’m only interested in places where I can have a dual citizenship, Denmark is on my list.

Of course I’d need the money to do that.

Of course it still feels like a pipe dream.

Of course there are probably some benefits of living in America, Massachusetts of all places, that trumps Europe, but still- Denmark is where I have my sights set. For now.

It’s that or Japan.

Maps

Not the song.

Recall those Google maps I uploaded to that shared folder, detailing what was in and around my current home location.

It’s 7:04AM on a Sunday, I have yet to sleep, and the community outside, down the street, across the fence, are older Vietnamese people.

Yesterday, there was a party for Cape Verdeans.

I feel like coming from a homogenous country, you might find it hard to feel at home in my neck of the woods.

But knowing what I now know of American History, I find it hard as well.

Still, as the outpouring of words becomes a deluge directed at you for these last hours, I wonder if “feeling at home” would just be being with each other.

If so, I would savor that.