About

Studio

Dostoff-House / Södergården (Björnsträdgård)

Götgatan 45, Stockholm

Third Floor

I want to truly thank Södergården for providing me a place to work in.

POEMS -Somnocentrism

A stone

I will not utter the mind of my child. Above the air convulsed, a boundless weight pressing beyond my grasp. as I clench a stone out of relief in the worn map of my palm. Ablaze with the sense of breathing, seeing and hearing. Between breath and stone, I bury what the sky cannot carry

The outsider

I sat along the shore, as the ambiguous sea mourned its dawn. I witnessed silhouettes afar, & became overly deranged by their prideful forms and unknown titles. I longed to embrace the ocean in spite of my unknowing. I longed to be God of the ocean. As I drifted in, I was no longer prey to the seagulls, and I felt the water’s humility - more impact & present than the airs ease - and I dove for depths my lungs couldn’t resist.

Veins of Virtues

When my heart cannot bear my veins, my thoughts dissolves into heavy fog, my hair loosens and falls like dust, when my eyes soften, sink and rot, and my face loses my name, I’ll look through death with a bold smirk, and open my palm like I once held my brush.

Mad opera

The sun and the moon were in love, like a mad opera. They played their tune of eternal time, meanwhile I was their devastated child. I witnessed nights with no shadow, as days without, I cherished the hour when they mourned and my shadow expanded like a child’s.

Aquarium

Everything one says simplifies their unknown language. And their words might just be the mirror of your own, you won’t tell wether you’re staring into the eyes of golden fishes, or the people of your own. They will nod your head inside a glas pot, where the blue lies greens, and time swirls itself a fish.

The politician

Ones mad of the perception of man. Saddened by his loss, Lonely creature with no heart, making sense of it all! His job will be to save the world, like it once was. Constantly rewriting his verses in order to preserve his true love.

The muse

Demeter worries now for her lost kind, where dark and light may be one. Hades has taken her, bound by his crimes. Only the rain would soothe her tears, and outlast the weight of their years.

The Field

The kid afar walks through the vast blues, and the contender of his dreams. Embedded among red flowers. A few dreams within him need to sleep, nevertheless the night has an end, like anything else on the field.

Woman in black

A woman is present on the street, but I feel nothing but her tumbling sleep. Like a cockroach under a rock, on a golden beach. Like a seashell which will seep and drift by the crude sea.

Le baiser

I bowed my head upon your knee, consoled by the breath of your longing. A caress, they prostitute us to our needs. Like fever dressed in silk. That scent I knew, somewhere, a ringing lullaby.

Nature

A longing clarinet pulse my heart, and the trees rhythms an orchestra. the night is young, and so is the tears, which sunk down that pale fragile skin, experiencing the nights wind, you compromised thing.

War!

Let’s orchestrate a war! paying homage to the old veteran, aged like fine wine in a masses glas. Let us be the ink in the tyrants autograph! let’s smear truths til day seize, let us never sleep! Firing into every spring!

It’s always been about us—our sense of humor, our devotion to youth, and our hospitality in sharing a laugh with a stranger

Embrace

I wept in the folds of your years, Embraced you in your wrinkled skin, Why cannot you surrender to my dream? does your mind always desire to coexist?

Charcoal eyes

Those big charcoal eyes, whom deepen my sight. You who silent our grotesque collapse, weaving rest into the sailor’s eye, nourishing the beggars’ cup

/Français

Ces yeux tendres, profonds, couleur de charbon,

Qui ouvrent en moi des abîmes de clairvoyance.

Toi qui tais notre grotesque effondrement,

Tu dresses le voile du repos sur l’œil du marin,

Et fais pleuvoir la sève dans la coupe des mendiants.

Ideal of idealism

Idealism is the opposite of truth, truth is fluid and adapts constantly to your environment, the fool speaks of his truth, the courageous strives for the feeling of truth

The Castle

The streets filled and illuminated, my tower is tall, and has been for centuries to come. It’s corridors stretching wide, and in hollow glas nocturne light drapes my floors.

Below, tourists pass and bargain. One seeks to be a ruler, another inspired by their their story. Third and fourth, in one another. A fifth, now blind, with fragments piercing his old eye.

Still Life

I yearn to be the dried flowers of autumn fields, curved with all its petals to a careless sun, to taste a delight, a bitterful ecstasy of light. Proudly improvised by nature, a magnificent still life

The Moth

There’s a sadness beneath every pride, beneath every roaring man, every rage against man, beneath every joy, beneath the clack, there’s a moth seeing light in the glass, and there’s beauty in that.

The Bone 1 & 2

I solace a cat more than the dog on a masters lap, a faithful devotee, it’s demise a final act. There is more to her who tends herself a lifetime, than a dog who dreadfully yearns for the bone. The wheel has no imagination.

—the wheel is it’s ruled by nature;it’s the eternal clock. To be concerned by death is unoriginal, what matters is the odyssey towards the unknown.

I’m No Longer

I’m not bound by money tonight. I’m no longer bound by my dead wife. Ego! Ego! where’s your long proses just to keep you beneath. I’m no albatross, I am a whale in disbelief!next time you give me a tale for my bruise, or open your mouth just to fill the air of your shallow views, I will laugh, as I humiliate you a facial of my youth.

Insight

The main study to excell all creative fields is to recognize life as overwhelming. that’s the starting point to your temper and loneliness which will be turned into obsession for your personal insights, and provide the most ecstatic beauty.

Insight 3

I believe nihilism stems from a lack of individualism. I think the main thing that makes people confront thoughts of death is a lack of fulfillment, which makes life feel plain and triggers these reflections. But when you experience movies, visual arts, or music, you engage with a vast range of emotions, which makes you more experienced and enriched.

Little Girl

little girl with a fierceful smile, a forehead of mysteries. What was it under her round cheeks, that she tried to convey me?

Ego

Ego, the source to all greatness, every living creature embodies it. Every pulse is a rebellion against the husk, every desire carries an eye.

Terrace

Where people share their ideas! On these evenings where cafes are filled, where they speak of what has been achieved. A white night, whereas bartender supports our sins.

Law of death,

In law you’ll get decomposed, in a manner of a grave. But my confusion will be freed. Everything in between is a mystery that I’ve chosen, a path embraced.

The Sovjet Man

Ah, poor sovjets- bereft in art to tender their funeral; their letters breed dread, enthroning kings of the dead. And teach the living to worship death.

History

Ever-love is history, every revenge is history, every war has history, eventually all rules makes their story. The more man tries to articulate, the more will he be bound by history

Animal

What does the animal care for oneself, what does the prey think of me? What does the infant turtle striving on the sand think of me? Why does not the dragonfly grasp me? Why does it matter to bring grief to a serpent?

Imagination

When I turn off the light you’re beside me. Your presence greeted me in all various objects, the intense dark greens invoked me a native language. My imagination, my creation, and the owl would howl, and the bats, hanging upside down. The ravens would awaite me, and I would observe them fly.

The Eagle

What is the eagle, more than limbs and living flesh? A sterilized pet in a gallery show. The preforming eagle, distressing hearts for the sake of his own. Prideful in his solo act, blaming a prey for his touching show.

Strangers

Thousands faces I’ll never know, close to me in spirit, that I always pass by but never know. And it’ll take a lifetime chase down the sewers. A face with depth I won’t unfold

Morality as superiority

The most intellectual pursuit is compassion, respect and empathy, it shows maturity and awareness of our instincts and grotesqueness. Morality is the key point to greatness and refusal of the laws of nature

Solace

As I came home, after a long day without anything accomplished. My cat slammed the door with his head, and jumped on my bed and nod his head against my mine. I had identified its repetitive manners, its instinct, as a repetition of my grief. But after acknowledging my future as much as my past, I had sympathy to that thing. Probably it was because he felt the same thing. Not would he live for long, nor would he have any genes to pass on, and his days would always be long enough.

Note on death… again

People are scared of death because they lack art and a high sensitive/ spiritual experience

Husband and Wife.

The husband receives endless love for his curse; stories like his are easy to sell, especially to the young girls.

She is willing and brute, convinced that no man could afford the words in her new-published book.

Then a man appears — patient, comforting — and he confirms her views by a tender voice, when tears or laughter meet, a new love-story is renewed.

The Wind

Do you feel it? Do you hear it? How the wind breathes? whispers in its longing, how its melody seduces grass, and trees seduces its sweet air. It was that the awareness the acceptance of slowness! all caressed by a motherly voice. Please say thank you!

Lover

Love a pure thing, it would require little for me to fall in love, maybe a shared birthmark, I would pick up stones, many stones, and give one or two to my lover

Meaning

The answer the meaning of life is the same as the meaning of love

Note to the optimist

To cure pessimism is the ideal to the idealist, just as much as pessimism is an ideal to the idealist

Woman

My type in women is like my relation to art, it’s that one thing which is off in emotion in a painting that reveals something more humane and profound. I’m not speaking of imperfections, but the overall impression.

The Fire

Do you see eternity in the fire now? Do you sense your distant parents in you now? Are you easily mocked by fire now? Do you feel heavy with your sagging body now? It is fire who casts shadows now.

Old Man

Tired eyes, ready for their last rest.

He carries his violence quietly; he knows the hardships and he never placed his life above anyone else’s. With no appetite for old age, he stops eating for three days.

He lowers his gaze, worn and distant, and meets his heartbreak with a strange familiarity.

And still, he lifts his trembling hand to my shoulder, letting his hand speak a final speech.

Reflection

Why shall I care for someone’s work

if he does not care for it himself?

Pills

Someday every evening will pills to go down her throat and make herself invincible for the times spent in the woods.

Little Fat Bird

And the little fat bird sang with all its feathers, only narcissus found pleased with the song, and echoed a few rivers along.

Love

There’s love in your mouth. It speaks to me effortlessly, it’s beautiful, the words go in harmony and I hold them dearly in my pockets.

Depression-insight

Depression is the contradictory to inspiration, depression is an exhausting wheel, art is reinvention. Art has a public, depression hasn’t.

Note on drawings

If you let your gaze blur when looking at sketches by Da Vinci or Delacroix. You will notice that what awakens the composition, expression and movement- is the flow of lines. The dynamism comes from contrast of edges.

The Aged

Respect the aged, they are frail. Wisdom is the experience of time. The inevitable that everyone will face down their path, beyond measured intellect, wisdom in feeling and therefore it’ll be incommunicable. Intuition is an experience of the factual

Time

Time is an illusion, a projection of ourselves, and can be manipulated by doing something beyond one’s capacities. Time is an experience. You defeat time by engaging yourself to an ideal.

The rebel

The rebel believes his bare feet will grow experienced the more he walks on the rough ground. The rebel believes sun as God, and the stars as false. Entitled for being the thief of fire is to be blind to the mesmerizing lights, and the solitary dots perfects a harmony in the empty sky

Friend

There is only one concealment in life, and its own voice, everything else is corruption of the soul

Blue river

He who mourn the river, and himself never grows old. Because the more he thinks about himself the more tragic it becomes.

Meaning in the adjective

Colors is to painting, what scent is to the body. What voice is to a dialogue, What language is to conversation. If there’s no poetry to the adjective, humankind will forever search meaning in the adjective.

Lunatic kind

lunatic eyes, a thoughtless snake, lost in its ecosystem trying to sustain itself with its teeth’s. And how I wished not to be its tail

Art

Art in any medium transcends the animal state. Technique is essential. Without it you disrespect the subject you’re working on. But high execution on a poor subject disrespects the soul

Friend

There is only one friend in life, and its own voice, everythng else is corruption of the soul

Lack of creativity

A sour mind is the result of a narrow mind

Dark Forests

Deep forests has stolen my child, and I shout for hours searching for him

The Wind II

The wind will take us, let it move us. Let it pass us. The will wind ease us, where are we? such stupid question, always on ghe move. Like goats running the green valleys. We live like thieves, I’m not scared of the path

Being afraid to talk about death with the old is like being afraid to talk about sex with the opposite sex.

Universe

The immense space, I felt every black star, every puzzle in the universe, the sublime large source to all living things, where my death does not toll for a night. The ecstasy of every star glimpsing in my eyes. Every flower curving their planes to the sun, the planets movement. I am a satalite into the savage night!

A flower is sensitive and fragile compared to a stone.

Vacance

Maybe it was the orange that I longed for. Maybe a night crowded with tourists on expensive dinners that I found amusing. There was salt everywhere in the old town. Maybe it was anger that formed cliffs. Well whatever it was I was captivated by it.

I was getting abroad in a boat, to one boat to another, a sailer to a sailer. And a country to a country, with a glass of class.

Places

Bryssel, Paris, London, Madrid, Vatican, Marseille, Zurich, Amsterdam, Tangier, NYC, Washington, Vienna, Copenhagen, Berlin, Rome, Rotterdam

The Old House

My home is a museum. All day dries late, and cancer is free in my veins, yet newborn branches still fight from its trunk, Each plant in my garden has stretched free from its seed. Each plant is killed by a proust memory.

Death

I am ugly into the face of blackness, no horror would scare me. No girls to excite me. No books or movies could make me escape this. Wouldn’t matter if the whole world would see me. I knew that old age would even make me feel anything. It was this, and this only. It was my voice, my thoughts, my memories and the overwhelming melancholy all in a bell jar, in a body that would either be ridiculed or go unnoticed.

Mediocrity

Mediocrity does not belong to those who cannot yet achieve, but to those who cannot feel, they are totally insensitive and false. Living on their crown, thinking so loud and proud.

Crack on fire

The sound of fire is rustling, and the smell of its exhale is for sure hot. Yet when you’re turned on, you will scream for mercy, meanwhile cheerful nature will try it’s best to keep you warm.

The Great Beauty

It seemed to me that all great beauty was hidden, and I alone would admire her primal blue eyes

Silence

Silence between notes is music,

Silence between two people speaking is poetry.

Emptiness on a canvas gives feeling.

Simplicity is being truthful to beauty.

Love

How rare it is to feel this bond. To share one’s thoughts to, to be primal with. That’s not too little, or above. Nor disliked, liked but something above. To feel all burdens fall from your shoulders, to be insignificant to every frame from every scene. To be delighted in this new shared dream. To no longer feel fearful of truthful things. That is what it means to be free.

Two reflections

The more you know, the less you speak. The more you feel, the more empathy you feel

It’s about us, our sense of humor, our devotion to youth, and our ability to share a laugh.

Do not act because life is brief, act for knowing what is not yet seen.

Cinema

Cinema all fear, it creeps under our ribs. Movies unfolds in years tears and fears, not in ears. All transcends, all interprets. We will stand tall, softened for all, and finally be able to see a world before all.

The River

He who mourns the river, himself never grows old. Because the more he thinks about himself the more tragic it becomes

80 years

In 80 years have branches fought wild and strained my windows, in 80 years has trees lived and died, in 80 years have I laugh’d and cried, in 80 years have trees lost its leaves, in 80 years do they bloom for springs

Date

I told a girl about my thoughts of nature, and she replied how cute, how truthful my portrayed terror was. She said she was attracted by guys with long hair that has a nice tongue. And then she asked, well what are you except the artist you’re portraying as?

And in that instant I knew I was behind my own time, and that I would be disliked for some time

Last visit

I felt the grains of the walls, the yellows detaching off the wall. I had for two years, eaten the same thing, taking the same bus, the same train, woke up late, and been there til the birds would sing, and the streets would be empty in early spring.

Insight

Only a small mind entitles another life form’s time.

There is about 8 billion people on earth, over 200 countries, million schools, over hundred million art enthusiasts, billion movies, billion music tracks, billion books, over 500 professions, trillions of extraordinary stories. And there’s ten times that in one individual.

We’re already so fortunate to be alive, I don’t want to face the mud already

Nights are more beautiful than day, because it is mysterious. We are more imaginative and projecting more of our own mind to it. It is simply more richly colored than our sun.

Philosophers are aloof dougebags, they are privileged with time. Observing others, pitying themselves. There’s nothing attractive to it. I hate to speak this prophetic style, of what's wrong or right, because I am not like that.

Be personal! Reveal every moment and every emotion of humanity and your life! Paint those you love, what you hate, what defines your character! #makeartsexyagain

Not some melancholic melodrama, nor insensitive joy.

The art must simply radiate from its dullness

Everything is vain and vacant, it’s all the same. Maybe if we were capable of loving a woman when she’s turning grey could things change.

It starts with being with oneself, and that is the world. And when you start to go outside, you realize how unknown, unpredictable, dangerous it can be, you see it is to give. Give all your love, all your deepest feelings, give life to the lines, because that is a secret far more intimate.

Everything about a misunderstood painter and his revolution is such a phony phenomenon. It’s literally the contradictory of what art shall represent.

A painter always paint what he or she is, all paintings are more or less, more creative self-portraits. So to say the artist has no significance but their work is false.

Everything outwards influences the inner, and the inner reflects the outer.

There’s a sense of innocence in admiration

Happily we’re often disliked by the people we don’t like

All creations arise from a reason; they only become phony when philosophy insists on asking why.

The most pretentious people are those who interfere.

The world is so unapologetic stupid and unempathic, yet it’s also so naively promising.

Life is too vast, too short to be spent dull, to be spent to a solitary story and character.

Power put folk on a pedestal, which makes morality less felt. That is why power is dangerous.

I have, as long as I can remember always been on my own. I think a life without self dignity and solitude is insincere. When it comes to any profession so am I the number one critic, I am the public. I know my vision and what I want.

If you’re driven by pure intellectual passion, there is no sexual drive to interfere

I love the music of Bowie and the paintings of Rothko because It is modern but the atmosphere feels mature that of which I’m very fond to

Aphorisms are much like paintings, it’s a question mark to your experiences.

Life, what is that? It is to be born, it is not about being formed, but to constantly develop. Energies does’t die and don’t rationalize. Because here we breath the same air,

without the safety of celestial glas.

Sleep is the most precious, naked, and purest thing to ever exist.

I’ll read to you, high up on the mountain,

whereas only moss grows.

I’ll stand at its peak, held by a vast view.

I’ll write to you when times are strange,

when I’m no longer true.

I’ll try to plant a few more flowers for you, and the sight is by far more beautiful when the sun is setting without you.

Despite my small mind,

set against the wonders and complexity

of so many ecosystems,

and the impact a single note can have

on countless stories, I won’t write about us,

but the story of a you and I.

People are obedient to their senses, and that is their biggest misfortune

There’s nothing in this world … as laughter and a good sense of humor. The pain of partying is nothing to the joy of never meeting again. Every voice is strange once you imagined an image of someone

Most people spends most of their time working in order to live and what little freedom that remains fills them with fear, that abstract and critical thinking ceases to exist

Great tragedy is that you only feel faithful and true to yourself when you experience intense emotions such as grief and despair.

It is tragic because you are only reflective and faithful to yourself when you are sad. Then you go on being happy, curious with why’s, until it slaps you in the face and sends you back into wondering why.

-Long story short, all your decisions will be set by another, and all left will be regret.

Realism without imagination is like having bad clothing style. I think all painters who do not follow their own authority are lost.

Great love for youth. But what is youth? It is the billion to a zero, it is all lives that roams on earth compared to the ones who is passed. Youth is a perpetual love story, for tragedy is always inherent.

For what is earth without our youth? Our voice, our passion—that is youth. And when it rests on the earth, it dries too quickly

Youth is no longer a saying of time when it passes us by.

My aphorisms are not truths, I never claimed they were. Aphorisms are- and always have been, an aesthetic, to console human ego and it’s deception.

In another world I would never need to defend myself.

I’m as much in awe for the blooming as the decaying of things.

If solitude and rejection, so overwhelming that it consumes you, the only authority of value will be the selft.

Grass is for the bunny, as a bunny is for the fox. As a fox is to bacterias, and the bacteria to the mudd. They all entitle each other, and that is the very gruesome yet wholesome depiction of nature.

When I wake up I found my pictures to be ugly, and when night passes me by I found myself weeping to it.

Music is the highest form of dionysian activity. It is so powerful in its emotional essence and imagination. That all your previous desires will seem like nothing, and your thoughts and feelings as a mere vessel, being forced into different directions in a vast unknown galaxy.

Jag vill forma ett sådant ärligt, smärtsamt och rå språk, att den blir kapabel att krossa varje doft från varje hushåll.

Talent comes from anguish that chews your tongue

Livet sedd ifrån obekvämt sittande med en insjunken mobil är ett farligt fenomen. Livet är magisk och gigantisk, det som finns här reflekterar bara individens sinnestillstånd. Vilket är därför man måste bort ifrån det blåa, jag litar inte på något som saknar friktion.

Realism without imagination is like having bad clothing style.

En mogen konstnär klagar inte på sin omvärld, för att hen vet vad den är, utan den förmågan skulle hen inte kunna urskilja något ignorant till något autentiskt

I’m not bound by any style, I am as free as a dictionary, and as ruthless as a descented king

And the greatest fortune is that we’re appreciated by those we love, they are the sole reason for virtues to exist

I think it’s harmful to be judgmental

Man skriver endast till en AI om man har saknar integritet och karaktär

Tycker synd om en katt som förlorat hår.

Everything is vain and vacant, it’s all the same. Maybe if we were capable of a woman could things change.

I write because I'm not smart enough. I confirm life as certain although I feel deep down wrong and the world is totally indifferent to my thoughts.

Colors

Ivory, velvet, white, beige, umber, paynes grey, olive, azure, wine, iris, vermillion, apricot, amber, amethyst, obsidian,

Literature

Rimbaud, Verlaine, Baudelaire, Fowles, Hughes, Larkin, Hugo, Dostoevsky, Hesse, Rilke, Lägerkvist, Shakespeare, T. S Eliot, Goethe, Schiller, Ibsen, Kierkegaard, Nietsczhe, Beauvoir, Allan Poe, Artaud, Schopenhauer, Proust, Balzac,

Colors

Ivory, velvet, white, beige, umber, paynes grey, olive, azure, wine, iris, vermillion, apricot, amber, amethyst, obsidian, puppy flower

literature

Directors

Kubrick, Bresson, Tarkovsky, Win Wenders, Lars Von trier, Lelouch, Lynch, Godard, Visconti

Composer

Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Handel, Richter, Mahler, Chopin, Rachimanoff, Pärt, Glass, Liszt, Schubert, Wagner, Tiersen

Musicians,

Dylan, Muse, Bowie, Depeche Mode, Farmer, Buckley, Daho, The Cure, Obel, Gainsbourg, Massive Attack, David, n drake, Prince, Lavoine

Fabrics

Linen, Manchester, silk, cashmere, moleskin, velvet

Painters

Caravaggio, Picasso, Cezanne, Hopper, Basquiat, Boticelli, Michelangelo, Van Gogh, Goya, Rembrandt, Delacroix, Davinci, Schiele, Caspar Friedrich, La Tour, Modigliani, Turner, Rothko, Velazquez, Bocklin, Rembrandt, Munch, Bourgeois, Spilliaert

Designer

Dior, Vuitton

Places

Bryssel, Paris, London, Madrid, Vatican, Marseille, Zurich, Amsterdam, Tangier, NYC, Washington, Vienna, Copenhagen, Berlin, Rome, Rotterdam

numbers

4, 7, 8, 17, 20, 21, 36, 57, 72, 89, 91

Possession

to make a poem of a Swede. They walk the same, in the same old clothes that changes every season.

Two bimbos speak of how great this world is, they are gods new preaches

Oversaturation color, uncivilized

construction & destruction= the outside becomes inside, and the inside becomes the outside.

integrity, originality, is what I think as important virtues.

Engineer, Painter, sculptor, poet, composer, scientist, philosopher, film director, fashion designer, actor, botanist, chemist, architect, inventor, musician, entrepreneur, art critic, author, dramatist.

People are scared of death because they lack art and spiritual experience

Lying on the bathroom floor, I cannot be found, some, give me the drug

I invented the flames in your black eyes,

Your elegance, and your foulard.

fragrance.

Only a small mind entitles another lifeform’s time.

La fin! Finito!

She’s filling her nose with all cocaine she’s got, she’s got fillers in her mouth because she’s one of these russian girls, she opens her legs like rideaus to men, and men treats her beauty by express with their gesticules, how filthy is she now with her stained hair and make up? because it is only the show she’s got, she’s balding and getting old

Liberating sky, I had the world to document, and there was a flight I would take soon,

How sad it must be to be a god of them all, to have power and bring everyone to your table, being idealized as someone loving and caring when you’re but a human

I really like you, the way you move,

a duty of a soldier, is charged treason for reason.

Apathetic hesitation.

I have seduced many fine ladies this evening wait til I tell them what year I am born in

Your highs, make a girl horny of a poem, good luck.

It’s satirical a majority of painters seem to quote and lecture about life whenever they don’t have a brush.

Da Vinci’s obsession of flight, radiates his obsession for light.

A guy big teeth’s with bad breath, trying to impress.

a shy guy, a shy girl?

Why does the city lights try to impress the universe so much

We are all in some kind, a parasite. That camouflage in his costume. In order to chance for survival.

Repulsed by fear of a reptile.

Sitting under a tree, in greens… reading

L’espoir est fragile comme toi

There are about a million poor people out there, same clothes, same sense of outward atmosphere. Why is that the story teller never gets poor?

And so teenager girls cries too. So does the little brother, not much above 12.

The big brother & young brother dynamic.

They all walk the same, same old clothes, that changes once every season. They all bend so effortlessly for their phones. In hope to see something great.

And so when the visitor came to my studio. The paintings were not interesting, nor the texts, but the sketches. It is the soul that we are obsessed about.

teenagers

puppy flowers

Two bimbos speak of how great this world is, they are gods new preaches

The greatest tragedy when it comes to Van Gogh, is that he always saw himself indifferent. It was always he and them. If he could simply just recognize himself as special for seeing things differently, so would he be free and not as bound to sadness, but maybe then would he be less popular.

If you are scared to destroy your work, you immidiately hesitate yourself from your identity. Be not scared to scorn your pictures

Fragrances, odeur

So much pressure on finding a mate, that you suddenly find it as a game.

A happy life doesn’t have the need to defy any norms

doctor, scientist, philosopher, teacher and author are you parasites on each other, isn’t that both gay and homophobic at the same time?

Friends, Their company proves that we are not always alone

pathetic

If you get lost in your words, just explain everything you think of, out loud, and it’ll come naturally.

People would label me as anything, it wouldn’t require much time to hear them speak out, to figure out the mystery

And the little fat bird sang with all its feathers, only narcissus found pleased with the song, and echoed a few rivers along.

I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship

Oh not again, not this shit, stop swiveling in your room. You’re as pathetic as a person can be

Atrocious a necklace of amethyst

I was more angsty when I was younger, because I had no legacy or anything written to express myself and my thoughts. And everyone tried to bound me into a box. I still have more than a million things to say, and I’ll do it as unapologetically as I can.

If a painter doesn’t recognize his insignificance, so shall he paint false and insensitive paintings.

In order to become so to say, a priest, a cult leader and a prophet you need to use words like music

When none is right, thus trauma cannot channel right. Life’s a bordel where it tries to channel their wilded eye.

draft. How could you blame the sick for a crime, how would you even come in terms with him?

Little sheep dreaming for greener valleys, a green valley…

We’re visitors to our time, we need to take as much as we can.

A philosophy requires a language, a society needs a language.

we need to break lego’s to see what’s underneath, and how it’s built.

just a dot on a canvas, just a color.

the world is a lie, a unkept farmhouse.

one of a millions, unknown stories dying everyday, unknown strong memory.

idolize, dehumanize, humanize

Beneath the bimbos hair is bald, her hair sits loose, her lips are fat..

Titanic, beliefs sinking down the ship, paintings meant tremendous value, value system sinking.

The vicious orphan,

his cigarettes will exhale parfumes of ligning coals upon his elders, which they despise but so lured upon. He will burn fire into his son! And make sure to be smelled a diamond. His fire will be continuing despite the construction upon.

The immense isolated space, I felt every dying star, every birth in the universe. A source to all living things, where my futility does not fall short. The ecstasy of every star glimpsing in my eyes. Every emerge, every energy in awe, curving restlessly to moons, across planets of silent move.

evolution is love. Essence, souvenir of parents.

war is the thunder of forests ecosystems, stabilizes unbalance and harmony.

the cameloent always adapt to the eco system in order to survive, save his skin.

a short, -profound-blue flower ,who weeps under his elders. He will turn every passion to turn his petals foerccefully to be seen by the careless sun. a dark perfume, a dark erotic,

the unconciousness, everything unknown which comes to us, is what makes us progressive further in the beyond.

insanity, possession, obsession, sadism, stir, protege, a lost wolf, souvenir, failure greatest lesson. Captivated, yearned sour your tongue , discret, absorbed in beauty. Regrets

Like sheep’s on the green velvets, with a stepherd, lonely and further away, a happy one. Valleys, they hop one after one.

A little coin in a pocket, which meant so much for this kid, their parents had sacrifice

it for an heir.

A man walks down a railway. His jealous of his wife that spends her time alone.

La colour de la maigre! Qui me sourvomey

Native Language

The Rebel

Sleep, sleep, revive yourself, I tell her. Spare the children your anger, they are carried by sincere whispers to destruct authority. Regarded old man just stopped to pass by the cafe, by time, we die one by one

A garden of memories, a place my parents filled the place. Where my parents lived.

is a child born on late month,

he crawls from his mothers stomach,

it takes a year to adapt,

he sees if he were alive,

He thinks it is god who made him alive,

Mother and father is idealized,

He finds himself a new home with friends,

He finds love when his thrown as an soldier,

He sees friends pass,

He is now responsible for his life,

He sees parents age when he sees himself age. He realized that stars are more beautiful afar, if he tries to cling and that things are more beautiful when it’s personal.

He does not goes for a normal wife for a calm life.

His parents died of old age, he now searches for their story,

Now he has kids, he sees his story in them, and he accepts that they are not interested.

Two lovers are made by accident, it is sad that a man is ruled by his penis, meanwhile the women is ruled by fascination of a random situation.

How glas of vine makes you feel

A person believes in what they want to believe in, it’s waste of time to convince them otherwise. Some are born with the ideal that they are the authors, some are born stubbornly and stick their nose in somes’ asses, some are distant, others are born to be lovers

I was an angel ,A fat children.

I found her funny, almost satirical .

Or maybe the freezing winds from the rocky island that I wanted. Or the marockan merchants, that again tried to convince me their magic boxes. Or maybe it was the cowboy boots and archetypal prideful buildings in Paris, or the aristocratic art supply shop, whatever it was I wanted far away from the baby carriages in Hagersten, the bars from sodermalm

I seduced many fine ladies this evening, I wonder if I were to reveal the year I was born in…

Oh not again, not this shit, stop swiveling in your room. You’re as pathetic as a person can be

Atrocious a necklace of amethyst

If you ask a man about his politics, you will inevitably speak to an open-minded priest

The need of control, does not origin from lack of love. It comes from rebelling from nature. To think ourselves above than mere creatures influenced by the will. And we turn fearful, we want to become gods.

An idealist is the most stupid one, he waste his life explaining life and being ignorant to society and everyone.

black womb of transformation.Like a butterfly

The raven always visits my studio for bread. He will stare into my soul, constantly mocking me.

We’re sinking but she’s laughing, it’ll be okay tells me she’s just fine with her childhood bruise on her knee.

A death so dark a place so dark and careless that someone commits a relationship with their camrates

Every dead person wearing our clothes,

foods and clothes in ships to us

A spark in their eyes, when they know dark is right. Where he smiles upon the innocents who are lost and vile.

Leaving him all there on the station brought me shame, his all very compact yet tilting up a face innocently, his ears are all back, always listening. orange skySnow came down to me,

A stupid granny who thinks she’s logically right and throws out his diamonds

I boasted a few citations from your history book to seduce a queen. And I tried to attend your funeral, but I am somewhat of an amateur can aristocrat.

A dreadful girl to wife, her body heavy as some Gordiment. A broody gesture where ever she goes, never having any other thoughts.

What was once a rose, pale skin and soft curves, now sinks into blotches and sagging weight. Once lifted like song, droop heavy and uneven, the pores stretched wide, sweating sourness. The face caves around the eyes, where damp sockets gleam dull. A stench of damp skin and faint rot clings close, as if beauty had been strangled mid-bloom and left to sour another perfume. In a loud crowd does all words lose domain

The Eternal Dance

Seven dancers move on a high green valley’s,

shining force in a vast.

Destruction rolls beneath their feet, and rebuilds for their lift. A thunder in a eco system. A desire and threshold.

Each step carries weight they sure master and mock on.

A living artifact evolving entity, and the result will be the same, culture.

Each step carries the weight,

each turn echoes both loss and hope,

the cyclical rhythm of life

The wind will take us, let it move us. Let it pass us. The will wind ease us, let us move within the sublime nature. where are we? such stupid question, always on ghe move. Like goats running the green valleys. We live like thieves, I’m not scared of the path, regret

Ritual death and war.

A 90 years old man is you in 75 years, and the new habitants will be your little brother.

You middle of two swans, in a black intense lake. The movement of two elegant swans, that leaves such grace to it's trace reflecting dimse water. You between two islands of land, that only moon convey it's blue light to your grace, because trees are too hollow but you, you lovers are always two and always as atrocious. They dance a ritual, on weird ground. Dracula hides in his ship about to come with his plague. Chemistry river and thief of fire Prometheus Possiere, Fashion The activist, those to be filmized, doing what they believe, controlled by their instinct. The rebel who believes . Time

How would you, when your old and frail describe Italy to me? /grey

I remember seeing my father in his shrouded elbow pose, i asked how come could he cry, when he was not exposed to any damage. How I tried to mimic his expression in the mirror once, how courageous and cool it must been to explicit no vulnerability to any physical damage I thought

Society represses our natural instincts to maintain order, but this repression creates frustration and unhappiness

Humans are fundamentally driven by instinct -yet we decline and chose to suffocate with no sense of morality.

From birth to death

Every philosophy that emotionally touching is the ideal

People are likewise since elementary school, and we need to be it’s compassionate teachers.

Think all of your actions as insignificant and the drapery of silk as something to sleep on.

A woman bimbo balding

Gotta respect the flies on my meal

One is worried of his late friend arrival, the other tries to impress his best friend. The third tries to flip around the game, the fourth is writing a text

So many beautiful women in Paris, so crowded, I want fame there

people express with their gesticules?

Being retired, like dancer

Collective optimism

Relationship still chemistry but done

Hollywood

Hiking in mountains

Mignon

Arguing over inheritance

A garden of memories, a place where my parents lived.

Following fathers foot steps

I can program computers

Leaving him all there on the station

I’m afraid the majority of my output won’t be serious, but only rants. Rants of misery, that already a million dead people thought of.

Cringe

And my destruction will exhale ashes on the elders that they despise but so lured upon. I’ll be relieved to jack off to a priest and not a god.

On a empty cafe on late juin, or a classroom in early august

He was grinning like a pig, and I tormented his ears, trapped him, , I was eager to slam him. He was shaking like a snake in two, meanwhile I dragged him through the bloody floor.

A dreadful girl to wife, her body heavy as some Gordiment. A broody gesture where ever she goes, never having any other thoughts. A mind so loud in her gestures, what a sentimental child she was.

Destruction is a form of creation.

A body of finess , her breasts with rose nippels, skin, pores, flesh, brains, , microbala red vessels brains with moist, colonies of bacteria crawls and profilayes on every surface.

From rose to meat.

From curve to gland.

From fragrance to sweat.

From lips to tissue.

From breast to fat and vein.

From beauty to body.

The Eternal Dance

Seven dancers move on a high green valley’s,

shining force in a vast.

Destruction rolls beneath their feet, and rebuilds for their lift. A thunder in a eco system. A desire and threshold.

Each step carries weight they sure master and mock on.

A living artifact evolving entity, and the result will be the same, culture. on their face

I would not hesitate to be naked, or one day be cancelled, or any of it.

Each step carries the weight,

each turn echoes both loss and hope,

the cyclical rhythm of life

woven into flesh and breath.

I worked on gods motell

My cat at least respects my integrity and subjective view

The lower intellect a country has, the worse is their taste for art. Art is to be enigmatic, thought provoking, filled by passion. It should imitate the soul, not copy it. I despise sweden, such thick neglect everywhere, like a heavy, immobile, angsty cloud that drains me. I’m not broody for the sake of it, I find life overwhelming and marvelous and I won’t exchange my experience for the sake of conformity

The collector

To believe in God is to believe in stars. To be agnostic is to be an unfaithful scientist with a telescope. And to not believe in God is to be a God

Empire of rocks, yearning for more. The pocket is a empire of rocks m full The ecstasy search in his wornful shoes and internal youth. walked with a bruised jacket,

I like vineyards

I scratched my knee as a kid, I was in love with the girl from the square. She was my mystery

complacency exist, but not love. Love has to be reinvented that’s certain

You middle of two swans, in a black intense lake. The movement of two swans, a reflection from movement in the still dimse water.

A whore, opening your legs like a gardiner, controlled by your desire,

On a Deja perdu tout, oblige le temps

rue petite prince,

I have the talent that makes me underrated, but it won’t take long before my positions and narrative will make me overrated

And my quotes will be but, pompious for my output

Playing cards in these hotel lobbies, too much fun to find ourselves

An actor critiquing their cast for them not being truthful to their personna but the world goes fine

and doesn’t value their own lives and stick their nose into everything they find.

Until we wander like goats on those green valleys.

doctor, scientist, philosopher, teacher and author are you parasites on each other? aren’t you all gay and homophobic at the same time? Misery-fraught, is but a noble friend of mine.

Do not chain'd to me to your thoughts again

Death, what is that? To answer that question, we need to first ask what is autumn. It is orange, and death is then black. But when we experience it, it is just air.

Every romanticist is like Bruce Lee to me

Time will always drag out the lie from the mud. Shower and gym

Every new mother has been 17 and had supermodels pinned up her wall

Death, what is that? To answer that question, we need to first ask what is autumn. It is orange, and death is then black. But when we experience it, it is just air. There’s nothing that exhausts me as much as insensitive joy. And I would make the old man start giggling, and me too would laugh in the same face of mockery. People who excell in their writing has picked the worst career. Why shall I care for anyone’s work if he does not care about it himself. To believe in God is to believe in stars. To be agnostic is to be an unfaithful scientist with a telescope. And to not believe in God is to juveline a God. Calm down, it is no bomb. Having his cigarette between his lips. Calm down the sensitive. Then. I have no experience. He kill’s himself and the anxious is surprisingly free and in harmony. Every mother has been 17 and had supermodels pinned up her wall

We could run, until my tongue was dry. There must be a balance of melancholy and joy, there must be knowledge in the joy

The end is certain, pain is certain, restraint is certain. Seen the entertainment in this world does it recall you obedience of this insane phonecall? Time, History, and Civilization, Absurdity, Comedy, Joyfyl complexity. A fruit is never ripe, but for you it is. I didn’t learn much from the philosophers, they set words to the music, what taught me anything in life was the writers, those who operates the music. And like music forms your lungs, so do the alchemist with his language, and the dead man’s words make you drunk, and that’s how writing is done. Chanté! Have pride if you like, but make sure to wear your it like an armor, be a painting. Every great author has been the victim, the villain and the idiot in their story. Every famous figure is but a cult leader . corruption is a great character. The best cure to the body is a quiet mind. ability is of little account without opportunity. The cathedral of today will take another form, Raphael’s pictures will fall into dust, but the soul and the ideas will remain and live forever.exploration of primal instincts, dark humor, intensity. “Violence is nature’s law” says the man with an ugly tie and never heard a bomb. Being defensive is more of a disability than anything on earth. A picture is great when it does not depict a person, or any subject matter, but rather a universal experience or emotion. That the vision shines through the subject matter. By other words making the mundane resonate with life. Do animals have less value because they don’t share our sensitivity? That is the same between rich and poor. That is the same bridge between someone struggling with an inborn illness and someone healthy, struggling to cope. Hunger and starvation is for the one who doesn’t have an environment opt for his being. Grass is for the bunny, as a bunny is for the fox. As a fox is for the bacteria, and the bacteria forever belong to the mud. They all entitle each other, and that is the very gruesome yet wholesome truth of justice. Ridicule is a form of hypocrisy: it judges people from a distance, flattens them into stereotypes, and lets you feel wise for judging a situation you haven’t really tried to understand. I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you. A philosopher is a cult leader, nothing he says is new, but he knows how to cultivate his image. Las meninas is Shakespeare in one painting. My output is not my work, but my mind, when I’m looking outside of my window. It’s better to have no identity and being outside, otherwise you acknowledge yourself and being forced into their senses. I will look over your career with great interest. Orangutans. No owl is boastful. Regime, hurting machines. Once you are in, you are in.

Pain is the great teacher. For what is unfair in life is fair in art.is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages. just paint a hundred pictures of themes you love and eventually will your character shine. I think It is essential for a man to face death in order to seize any virtues or to be one a great man. I like her who could leave any place without being dependent on anyone. I felt so bad for leaving my mother and father, I felt bad for wanting more than them and I felt bad for the cockiness I brought upon their lives. And how hard they worked for me just to embrace me with a hug. AI isn’t dangerous because it computes — it’s dangerous because it is an extension of us. You could become a Bonaparte and still have 6 likes, that seems to stress humans, and others, they are content with 5. It is obvious that any socials shares the hierarchy of a king in the medieval times. you are born as ant all you’re memories will be in the ant empire, if you die in war you’re devoting yourself to a queens mastery. Amour and physce, different parfumes? The illusion is that a dictionary is freedom. It is hard to not be idle in your writing when you're financially broke and stuck.