Be my heroine.

Tomorrow is Christmas. I’ve always been a happy child at Christmas, but I do feel like I’m kind of growing up these years. Maybe it’s just because I’m getting older. Maybe it’s because I feel like the younger kids in the family should feel like it’s their special time of the year. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen so many, they no longer seem so special. But I think one of the main reasons is the “other” Christmas dinner we have with my father. Sometimes they can be really nice, all three of us (him, my sister and I) having a good time, dancing around a Christmas tree, eating delicious food, playing games and the likes, but the last couple of years most of it has been us cooking dinner, him drinking beer.

Having a father who drinks is never easy, but during the Holidays it gets more in the way than in your everyday life. Having separated parents, I am very much in charge of how much time I want to spend with him, and I can often time it so I’m at his place in the morning/midday hours. In that way I often catch him at times when he’s not drinking, and at those times he’s such a great guy. He’s funny, he’s clever, he’s always up for a game and he’s full of great advice. But unfortunately, all that goes away the moment he touches his beer. It irritates me some, because I really like to see him when he’s sober, but my irritation is more because my sister really hates to see him drunk. I don’t understand why he won’t try to quit drinking, at least at times when my sister is there as well. It hurts her a lot more than it hurts me, and I know he knows it. And I know some part of him wants to make sure he doesn’t hurt her. But he just doesn’t know how to quit drinking, and he doesn’t want to take advice.

Having said that, this year’s pre-Christmas dinner was better than it has been the last few years. He got drunk, yes, but he didn’t get overly drunk (or maybe I’ve just hardened a bit, expecting more extreme behaviour from him). At least he’s never a violent drunk, so I guess it could be a lot worse. But the claim that things could be a lot worse just isn’t a very good excuse for not trying to make them a lot better. But we had a pretty good time. We joked a bit, we were all involved in the cooking and made some really good food, and gave each other some nice presents. Mostly I’d just wish my father and sister would work some more at trying to understand each other. They’re really like cat and mouse, and I often feel like I’m the glue that has to keep that part of the family together.

Tomorrow is the big Christmas party with the rest of my family. I’m really looking forward to that. We’re going to be a bunch of people, and some we don’t see so often – including a new member to the family whom we only met a couple of months ago. She seems really nice, and I’m a bit disappointed with myself that I haven’t really talked to her yet. She seems pretty cool. She’s from the part of the family that’s from Vietnam, so there’s a bit of a barrier language (she has only just moved here), but I plan to try to use Christmas as an evening to get past that.

With regards to the love drama I wrote about last time, not much has happened. We talk together like nothing has happened, so either she’s on the same wait-and-see approach as me, or she doesn’t want to deal with it or she was so drunk she has forgotten it. Or something else. There are probably a thousand other possible answers, but I don’t want to wreck my brain with them. What happens happens. I will just have to go by my gut feeling. Things always work well when I go by my gut feeling (right…).

Starry night lit up sky
can’t see your eyes in front of me
stolen from your face
are the wonders of brown
where can I find them?

Something is up
in this old town here
where love can deceive
lies will misguide me

Tell me only your truths
decide not for me to trust
give me just the opportunity
to pick out my favorite you
and look, look, look.

Tonight I had a dream I didn’t expect to have. It was about a girl in my class whom I’ve dreamt some about, but not in the last couple of weeks. It just seemed strange to me, that she should enter my mind again, now that my mind is occupied by the other girl. It was a really sweet dream. We were romancing up and down the streets, going to all kinds of parties in a big crazy night. It showed me that I guess I still think of her like that, that I still hope of someday getting that opportunity, even though I know it doesn’t seem very real at the moment. Most of all it’s probably just my mind doing its normal: I only want what I can’t have. Now that love finally seems possible, I want to find it in someplace else. I should just cool my mind.

Great. The Darkside concert is sold out. Why don’t I buy tickets at first instance when I think of it… sometimes I swear I could just kill myself for my slacky attitude. At least I’m going to see Savages two days before Darkside play here, so I have a treat anyway. But I would really have like to see them both. Oh well, Jehnny Beth, be my heroine.

Ser du ikke
hvad du gør ved mig
med dine toner og dine ryk
dine fingre og din ryg
når du sådan danser
med dine lette fine skridt
når du sådan rammer mig
kaster dig mod mig blidt

Umulig at modstå
dit blik mod mit
mine øjne fanget i din næsering
følger den når du drejer omkring
ord løber ind i mig
men jeg forstår kun bevægelse
forstår kun dine hænder og hofter

I manglen på lys
finder vi hinandens privatsfære
og bryder den ned i slagene
bevæg dig mod mig
jeg inviterer dig
til en nat uden andre end os
et rum fyldt med mennesker
hvis vi ikke kan se dem
kan de ikke se os

Følg mig rundt
i din nye fagre verden
af håb og lidenskab
af ild og vildskab
til oceaner jeg ikke kan bunde
lær mig at svømme
lær mig at ånde
lær mig at fange dig
gennem din ansigtsmaske
lær mig at ramme dig
lær mig at komme med dig
lær mig alt om dig
lær mig at spille som dig
lær mig at spille om dig
lær mig dine beats
lær mig din smag
lær mig hvordan jeg gør
det her til vores dag

Der er ting forude
som vi ikke må bekymre os om
som ikke rører vores drøm
når vi er så nær hinanden
i nattens glemsel og fangen
huset fyldt med røg
kom det fra mig eller dig
eller var det bare rummet
der brændte?

Lysene gemmer min intention
kan ikke se gennem din horisont
billedet du maler
på indersiden af mine nethinder
brænder sig fast
fast og bliver
ved allerede hvilket syn
jeg vågner op med i morgen
hvis jeg da overhovedet får sovet

Du hvisker til mig,
du er syg syg syg
med den blødeste stemme
jeg nogensinde har hørt
du siger du er vild med mig
aftenen er lang
men jeg er ikke udkørt
bare lidt endnu
lidt mere end vi har
lidt mere end vi ta’r
kan vi godt tåle
kan vi godt måle os med
de andre der tror
de har fundet vejen
vi finder en bedre
vi finder vores egen.


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