Why start again now? Why not? I write because I feel it. And maybe not about previous subjects. Maybe now it will be about new things, old things, spiderwebs in the closet; who knows where this will take me?
My world is different now, yet the same. My location is different, now that I live in Stockholm. But the problems, the preoccupations, the joys and pains are somewhat the same. It's difficult to pick up exactly where I left off, perhaps because there is an abyss in between. And maybe my posts will pick up momentum, and talk of the ordinary things that everyone wants to read. But not today. No, not today. Today I am submerged in shadows. Old shadows that won't go away. Shadows that block my light and make me doubt everything. Yet I WILL pull apart those shadows, with my own two hands, with my nails I will scratch at that something until I get it out of my eyes.
It's about me, yet it's not. I know you are confused about this rambling, but there it is: confusion. It's not meant to make sense; this is for me, not for you, the reader.
There will be better days, mate. There will be better days.
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