min kropp är bara ett skal utan mening, det ekar mindre när jag fyller mig med dig

 
det enda jag hatar med love antell: att han, ur varenda jävla vinkel, ser ut exakt som någon jag får ont i magen av. bortsett från det är han fin. love, alltså. popaganda var rätt så fantastiskt överhuvudtaget. speciellt thåström, dungen och teddybears.
 
This time of year is the saddest time of year. It is the end of the summer, the time when your boyfriend or girlfriend is moving to Berlin or New York or London and says “I just don’t want the responsibility that comes with a relationship, I really need to be free right now”.
And you hate the future, you want to throw rocks and empty beercans at it. You hate the changes it brings. You’re late for uni, your first class of the semester, and you wish you hadn’t cut your own hair two days before you started. And you think of the days getting darker and on your way home you kick the gold out of the leaves on the ground. You ride the buses and trams and trains in circles. You put chewing gums on elevator buttons.
At night you can’t sleep so you go out and it’s a starlit night so you sit and watch the constellations up there, and then a meteor divides the sky in two and you think of one thing to wish for but there are so many things.
I am reading your emails and I may not have time to reply to all of them, but I just wan’t you to know that I’ve been there too. I’m there with you right now. - jens lekman

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