Monday, June 07, 2010

fara och

I can't remember this sentence! You never knew.
with my broken kbd: fortfarande forhallande marg och ben, i och med.

I was streaming up there. T^hen at the end the tickerboards came down, red.

I was in the forest so long that I became afraid of going out to the open world, a more dangerous world. Here the rules were clear, you were all right, so long as you stayed away from Shoot-'em-up Lodge and the other properties within the forest. This is mainly a diary of my fears.

On Uppsala's plains. \long land. Mowing machines - plogning. Bodil Malmsten, asleep on a train.

You don't notice, among the buildings, how the sky breaks up and it's suddenly lighter, and up there blue. We'll all keep going. You will be punished for being sedentary, that is a fact.

I'll check it when I get back to the hotel.

But where can we go? I am a girl. "Allowed" is a very ambiguous thing. Where I'm allowed to go, I am not really allowed to go, to any long extent. We are all suspicious. Even the weirdos are weirded out. I have no business to be here. That's why I'm here. I don't have the right to ask you questions. I don't have a "hat". So when we meet we grip our silences a little harder, ready for a fight.

Even the cows surrounded me, breathing their gentle, heavy curiosity.

I will go on, through the flowering grass, the salt-loving grass.

Only nearing the coast it begins to feel different, like the crust of a cheese. Cheddar, Procol Harum, flag of St George. The first cockney accents, show people.

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