THAT`S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR

On the worst of days, when the sun burns the salt in the face from yesterday ( peanuts, tears, street dust and glitter ) - Don`t wash it. Life will kick it again anyways. Words might pile up together with an anger and sadness of bone and soul crushing proportions. Experience tells us to kick it and do it, just do it. So here comes the to-do bleeding list of insight or the lack of it that might help us through it: 

1. Find a book by a great author that never smiled and committed suicide in the end.

 Jens Bjørneboe smiling

  

I promise, you will find something in the book that puts your pain in perspective and makes you focus on the more important elements.

Perspective from book:

In the olden days when people were still hanged from open gallows, it was customary for the closest friends of the doomed to stand in the front row of the audience, ready jump up and attach themselves to the condemned body to weigh it down so the strangulation be over with as fast as possible.

2. The element of friendship: Let them save you

                                                        PaCh in Malmö: 25.10 - 03.11

 

Studio blessing from Paris with love

3. Find the bottom, look at it and bathe in it but do not understand it; every advice will sound like directions for someone else. Share your pain with a stranger in the sun, listen to the familiarity of your story and hear the waste of emo-time. Provoke adrenalin, drink vodka, never sleep, dance to radio voices, and cry to heavy metal, write ugly poems, watch movies were all the actors remind you of the blood, eat things hard to chew so your jaw hurt and annoy you, start five new projects you don`t have time for, yell at missionaries on the street, attract flashers, spend all your money and make new problems, drink coconut dream to every meal, fall asleep in front of the computer in the daytime, stay honest, if the ugly is true the ugly is best. 

COCONUT DREAM

Thank you for smoothing out the eye burn of my nightmare

You are too sweet to be true

If a high brain could just focus on you all day long

every sad song made would be an I miss my dreamy coconut song

I shower in coconut and feel it getting sticky

Your container is crooked, but your love ain`t tricky

You save me with fusion

Soaking the ache, believe the  creamy illusion

  Hard white nut meets soft white stuff

Bless you for helping me kick the guff

 


 


 

Cotton Day, hard long love forever

Spending days apart
is what we do
Last year you called my name outside my window
This year I am yelling STINE OMAR in between the reggae dance high


The strongest open love is well known, the biggest words is not for now, longer words will follow. Thank you for two great years of hard long warm love

(Stine, listen up
  The ring is missing
      I always take it off before unfaithful gestures
          So with the purest intentions it might be lost for a while
              But I will find it before midnight
                 I suspect it might be resting on a dust cotton bed aka the vacuum cleaner)

With time on my side I would make beautiful cotton art for you

ELSKER DEG.

HØYEST OG GØYEST

                                   

moon full in our cotton

i blogged u in commando but my cotton of rapture was on in the moonlight. we going steady and free. an email on its way for deeper insights. my slime is running. my ring be sitting tight in my jeans at the dance. i will do a line for u. a cup and a snort; darling u beautiful. forever unfaithfully yours

RIP TJOSTOLV MOLAND

A stranger is gone today, he is lost forever in a prison far far away
We know the story and we remember the celebrity of the most uneasy kind: famous for being bad, famous for being helpless, famous for keeping secrets
"We will take the truth to our graves", they said
We`ll see your possibly slightly less bad other half on a talk show in the glow box real soon, let`s bet on it
Famous for being Norwegian and relatable in the action horror story of our low action lives
Forgotten when the plastic chairs and disco music of the court room became the everyday lock down of the criminals, the guilty, the innocent, the framed and the confused.

Thank you for the entertainment
Sorry for the suffering
A shame about the racist media whoring
 - They put the "us" and "them" back on the map of ugly insight.
Guns, car, jungle, blood, military pride, army fear, communication breakdown
A run a day does not always keep the brain bugs away
See you in the headlines this week and perhaps one more day or even two,

Stay happy behind bars

Go out and play under the cars

Scratch your back with broken jars

Poke a stick into your scars

Pull di can a peas! Is fi ooo? IHRA LILL 27

Art Medicine

Way too late night poem on the pain of not using the gain

It`s time again. The clean fast crazy slick deadly

cykling for choppers and logos

Tour de my whole world just got stolen by the yellow chase

No sharpness of mind or relaxed glow from the heart

Apocalyptic blindness caused by shiny legs

We talk of love (your dog, not your neighbour)

Searching for heart glow

Finding the art slow

But something was made;

there is nothing like sitting on shop at night

Several hours for one bad joke

(that I expect to see on TV tomorrow)

Meet me on the bridge between the two universes

(stolen medicine)

 

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CHERRY (2)

IT`S (1)

IN ARMS

ILL IN THE BLANKS (never sick!)

Sitting in tha boom of the best happiest white art rap I could imagine

Being a bored groupie with a banana, happy art and people and washable sausages saying NOLOLOMARNOLOLOMAR BUT JUST MISSING MY CUE BECAUSE OF WRITING IT DOWN, LIFE HUH?!

In the times of eurowhatvision, inbetween the funny Of almost but never going insane In the name of arts (NEVER WROTE ART TWICE  in A BLOG BEFORE, I THink) . In the times of soon seeing the loved ones, in the times of adrenalin in the lounge, in the times wolf never boring and never alone

Join us
In whatever way you can
Now and at eleven

CHOPGANG FOREVER BITCHES

FUTURELOVE

All I see is love

in a dark future of no money and no lust for forced square planned life I still imagine NLOmar in the most beautiful shiny car (or sometimes on a horse and sometimes on a bike, of course) picking me up and driving us around wherever we wanna go. This fantasy is enough on any blue day. Love saves all.

This is supposed to be a post with videos from Istanbul - - - - -> look to the future

This is supposed to be a post with a photo of the first W of a kerouac-bio-title-> look to the future

We`ll be together in a real life fantasy soon, lovely `N all Love Omar

V DAY; cupid come

AT THE BAZAR. walking around the little shops trying to not let anyone get to my eye. they mostly have the same in every door so i keep walking longing for surprise. then theres a teenager. it does it, its eyes catches mine then down to the fingers and it says thats nice what does it say? I H R A what does it mean i ask hoping it would have associations in this land for us to put stories in. it doesnt know moving on taking the next hand L I L L. its a name, i say. BROTHER SISTER, FRIEND? WIFE. it has already sold me safran and fezes. it doesnt wanna let me go. we re standing there with IHRA LILL in our hands. holding on to us it leads me to the corner of the little shop. the APRODISIAQUE. for u, for IHRA LILL, it says. IF YOU TAKE THIS YOU CAN MAKE LOVE 5 TIMES IN THE NIGHT says the jar. of course i take it.

post turk and split by borders again but hoping ur feeling my endless boner reaching out to ur heart tonite baby valentine ILL A

+ it must be old enough for the heart to bleed or does this not have an age? i am sure my heart was a lighter one ten years ago but then again im late, always was and lucky to have that long childhood free of blood more than most. i am growing up and all hearts owns this day. the sneakier blood has left me happy at the malnourished side of life where the this aprodisiaque is swallowed with sect, i put my love in familiar places, hause, soft bod and the kumpir, the week trad boner of a potato into my face, now x 5, safran, tender, everturk. kiss

leaving for the bazar

the only thing a hundred procent sure about today is that art in general is not important. the word art is not importantly used in this context of love and almost never will be. but we are on a journey in the name of it and our eyes and therefore brain are forced into this specific mode. tonight we tried to drown most colors and shapes in a pink mix of raki and red with the mix of a filled room and music from phones in a plastic cup-speaker. Not acting like white trash all the way, just all the way we want to. No poetics, just drunken flow. Omar taking a shower while happy slaughter is on the tv. we will find suiting images without the whole story, but we feel our loved ones seeing it all the way through. Istanbul day  four, still not learning our history, but getting oh so good at walking rolling updown ancient hills.

MERCIMEK

We invite you to our spa center for 15 minute free skin massage and analise.

Fat hair shiny face good morning! off into the fatter town to hunt for jaguars

WE GOT TEA this must be how they party in holier ways

chewing gum to appear boring more on this later in the book

sneaky helpers, do they want our money or our smiles

mercimek, cheap and fast and always local

kids so up in our faces on turkish we could see their freckles and they into our foreign hearts

fashion tv minus size models in widescreen

BRIDES BRIDES BRIDES (but where all the girls at in this town?)