30 minutes to the ground

I have 30 minutes to write. 30 minutes before I drop to the ground.

30 minutes before I need to go to work and put on the service-minded, professional and cheerful costume. It is Friday and payday and I work until 10.30 p.m and start again tomorrow at 7 a.m. Yippee.

Shit, 5 minutes have already past and I get nothing done.

I was going to the gym but had forgotten that the new galleria had opened in Liljeholmen (and apparently, the entrance to the gym) I got dizzy from the whole circus of balloons, promotions and people, so I escaped into my favourite bookshop. There, I could breathe. Resisted the temptation of buying the music bible “1001 albums you must hear before you die” reminding myself that I move again next week and that  it will be too heavy to carry.

Instead, I browsed through a few books and the inspiration intro started playing in my head. I cast it aside for now. I won’t be a writer anyway. I couldn’t write in English since my vocabulary is so limited (trust me, if it wasn’t for a thesaurus this whole blog would be bland) I couldn’t write in Swedish either because I have lost so much connection to my language.

I feel like I am in between so much, so often. Like the leaves I see whirling down. They are beautiful in the eye of a beholder, that is true, and maybe they do add some substance to the picture, but they are still just leaves. And all the want to do is dance.

Why am I always the one to tell others to pursue their dreams, but when it comes to my own, I am editing it every day?

My sister, who always appears when I need her the most, sent me this text, late, yesterday evening:

Helen, jag tänker på dig jättemycket! Jag har det tufft nu som alla på jorden känns det som…men du är som en ängel i mitt hjärta, för när jag tänker på dig så påminns jag om allt positivt och värdefullt. Jag älskar dig min syster! När jag tänker på dig blir jag lycklig för du är så smart och sprider en sån lycklig och fin känsla! Utan dig och dina förnuftiga och svävande tankar då hade livet varit hårt. Jag ville bara säga det, för jag vill att du ska veta det.

I won’t translate it all, but she finished off with ”I will be with you in whatever weather”, which was ironic because I had just written a poem that I named “Forecast: Storms ” (that I probably won’t ever post) but she always does that, my little sister, tells me the right thing, at the right time.

And now, it is TIME to go to work! Can’t always be up in the air.