About sharktoothsweater

When it comes about writing about myself I guess there follows a long silence. What should I write about me? For me it feels like there’s not so much to say actually because I’m kind of empty. And I do not know if I really know who I am. I suppose I could tell you my shoesize, the color of my hair or my eyes, about my height but none of those things really matter do they? Nor does my age, my sex, my nationality, the place where I live. At least, they do not matter in my world. I hope they don’t matter in yours either. Because all of this, what comes out here, is the real me I guess. If you have questions, or just something to say, you can reach me at sharktoothsweater at gmail dot com

We all have our burdens

To carry on
To leave behind

To know anything but knowledge

There can be a war in a mind
To be blind, when you could see

And rain does not fall down
But captures trees

Reason without reason
Truth without a single lie
More distant
It doesn’t really matter why.

I just wish it would
Make things easier.

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Hollow

How can autumn be full of leaves

When trees abandoned their little wings so

abruptly

And how can summer be with warmth,

When this thing, called the sun, is burning like hell

How can spring be so full of life,

When growth is blocked by predators,

How can winter not be so bleak

Grey skies, the endless cold

but it’s not winter

so it can’t be bleak

and yet here I am

full of emptiness

a complete filled void

 

The vertigo-shut down

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So. Here I am, again. Not that anyone really missed me. I’m talking into a big, wide world where the words I use, dissapear into nothingness. They flow to the end of the street, into the darkness. They dissapear around the corner, and I stay behind staring at the lights, and empty street and the corner where the words just went.

-Okay, that’s not completely true – but that is how things feel.-

Since the beginning of August I’ve been dealing with some health issues -starting with vertigo. I was so lucky to get struck by things thing called vestibular neuronitis, also goes by neuritis or labyrinthis. I’ve been really ‘out’ of things thanks to this thing that made functioning a bit ‘normal’ impossible.

I had a panic attack which made me feel ashamed of myself. My body charges to ’tilt’ sometimes when I feel things im my body that are ‘not good’, thanks to my pulmonary embolism-experience in the past. I know it, and still it is so hard to fight.

On top of that I also had some kind of allergy crisis that is still going on. I have some nosespray for it and it goes better slowly, but my health is something that worries me a bit lately. The doctor things stress plays a big part. Which could be true, though I’m trying to keep that down.

I had to shorten my holidays because of it, and even though I didn’t really have money for holidays I went to France to meet again with love. I was lucky to be a few days in the mountains again. I feel different in the mountains. I am more happy there.

Now, I’m back in the city. In my job that could be slowly killing me. I’ve been saying so long that I need to find another job. And yet I keep failing. I started working on my resume, but so far there is nothing else to mention. I am just slow, I guess.

I have very less shifts at work, because of cuts I get very less hours. Which just pays all the bills, but nothing more. It worries me a bit, and I try not to worry.

I’m in doubts wheter to start Jiu Jitsu again, because I haven’t gone there for almost 6 months now and I don’t know where my motivation is, but it seems gone. It’s just empty, neutral, ‘i dont know and i dont care’.

So yeah, here I’m sitting. I don’t know and I don’t care.

But I try you know, I really try.

I just fail sometimes. Or mostly sometimes.But I try.

The antidote

IMG_9240Once and maybe not even long ago
Not visible by day
At night only by who knows

They used to keep their heads up high
They used to fight the war that challenged them
They used to sell the truth for a lie.

Telling themselves that it was something to manage
Telling themselves that this was temporary
Not ignoring, but trying to calm the damage.

Roots filled with water
Outside of the shadow in the sun
but poison stays poison
where battle turned in to just begun

sometimes it does not really matter
if an end is a start
or a start an end

it’s where the unknown and the known
where meaning and the emptiness
are meant to blend

 

 

 

 

 

The fishbowl

Lately, I’m really terrible at writing. I just can’t. I’ve been out of internet for a little while at home. That doesn’t help much either. But when I sit and try to touch my keyboard, nothing comes. In my head I feel the soup of words spinning, but they stay there like they are in a fishbowl, you can stare at them and see them, but they can’t get out. That’s how it is.

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Fishbowl. I can’t even draw one, I know.

Life has been a bit empty somehow. I’m struggling with this emptiness, with this nothingness inside of me. Other people seem to experience this less – they don’t feel I’m empty, but for myself, I’m one big hollow fishbowl. You see right through it, because there is nothing. So there is nothing to understand.

I lost motivation at work (again, or maybe  I didn’t lose it-maybe it never went away). I just go to work and do what is necessary. I pay my bills. But it’s as hollow as it sounds.

My grandmother passed away. I can’t even say I feel sad about that. The past and history with all of that, created this superweird situation. No one really misses her, and that is superweird. Yet its superweird how things developed (or didn’t) through the years and all the things that happened created scars that never heal. It’s weird to talk bad about the dead, but at the same time, dead people can still influence. Good and bad. It’s so complicated that I don’t know how to feel about it, and trying to explain tires me so much it blocks every single word that wants to come out. Death is weird to me anyway. Sometimes you see it coming, but when it happens, it’s so , weird. Enough about that.

Lately I’m less comfortable in my studio. I live in a building with few other studios. Some neighbours are really noisy and a bit messy and that irritates me. And I miss an outside space. A seperate room. I can not even really welcome people, my house is small and it’s just (except the bathroom) one long space. I can’t hang things on the wall because the wall is so bad it falls off immediatly and when you bump it it immediatly has a scratch or a little hole. I don’t need a big house, but one seperate room would be so great. When you step into my house, you see everything- kitchen, my couch& bed in one (just two mattrasses that I fold every day).

I stopped going to Jiu Jitsu. I felt broken for a while, not able to go. Yet my motivation is nowhere to be found. I know it’s good for me, but I don’t progress, I am not so happy and funny as the others and I just don’t blend in. That is how I feel, and I still didn’t go. I haven’t practised for months now. And I don’t know what to do with it, but still being a member and paying doesn’t make sense, does it?

Love flew back to her home country. That means I’m home alone now. I’m happy she went to see her friends and family and that she is off.

Now I’m sitting here in this house, not sure what to do. It’s weekend, but I just sit, stare, wonder. I don’t act. There is no motivation in me to do anything. I don’t want to cook, eat, move, go anywhere, read, just nothing.

All I can be is the empty fishbowl.