Direktlänk till inlägg 23 december 2010
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.
Philip Larkin, "This be verse"
As I said in my earlier notes, it has as of today been twenty years since the death of my uncle. Twenty long years of paranoia, fear and though suppressed by endless effort… a certain apprehension. I know in my bones that but for a mir...
My days I spend in loneliness mind-numbing Into this unlife forced by bitter fate Each day´s the same as all the ones before it No fear, no faith nor love or even hate Prime solace found in grapes so sweet, fermented Kind Bacchu...
(Som alltid: copyright C. Landgren 2012 -> ) I woke one Christmas morningand the snow fell mixed with soot,I went outside to try to seewhatever was afootWith my eyes up to the skyI saw the strangest sight;wreathéd in a cloud of steamwas S:t ...
Queer- och Critical TheoryJa, mina vänner, som ni ser håller jag mig inom samma sfär som som i diskussionen runt Asplund och hans strävan att finna betydelsen bakom fenomenen. Här tänker jag dock inte försök ta reda på vad queerteorin betyder, utan ...
I was in a spot of trouble back in 1886flat out broke in ragged clothes and shoes that´d sprung a-leakhaving run afoul of villains full of truly wicked tricksand my days lately turned into an endless hide-and-seek By the Queen condemned "a he...
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