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SISTERS HOPE

D I S C OV E R I E S

Selected thoughts by students and staff at Sisters Academy 2015-2016

Edited by Maja Skjøth Hegelund

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DISCOVERIES SISTERS HOPE

Selected thoughts by students and staff at Sisters Academy 2015-2016


DISCOVERIES Sisters Academy 2015-2016


8 - 49 HURTS.

Where

do

I

A

Pain of fear.

Ugly.

50 - 85

Is F

I SEARCH.

Guide me.

As

I

f

r

a

progression R

E

seconds

V

or

E

R

days T E A and failure

go.

R

86 - 129 Is

it

over

DANCING Tasting

MY

bursting with flying to the moon with you

attraction

i

Inferior.

it O

start

Not.really.alone.

BIRTH love

S

d



1 WHERE DO I START It begins with one finger, hands, arms, then the back, arm on the other side, using bodyparts for the first time. Do you realize what you are doing to me?




FIRST MEETING I have a hard time trusting people. When I meet someone I get scared. I fear they will see my fear, that they will see what’s hidden. That they will see what I don’t even realize myself, the thing that’s inside. When I meet an animal it’s different. They are not selective, they would never ignore me, they are friendly. I see the world as a scary space, put together by judgement. Is it not enough to be? Do I always have to do? It should be easy to change my point of view, but it’s not. What is going to happen if I let myself go? I have met people who have tried to change my point of view, as if they were part of a bigger plan. People who have come in and out of my life, with a single purpose- to change my perception of what the world is like. I have seen their purpose as only this, I am too selfish to realize that they weren’t put on this earth to perform a service for only me.

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I want to approach all creatures but I feel so shy. B was like an animal to me. He never ignored me. Although he wasn’t the one who came to me, he would never choose to turn his back on me. He was also hestitant towards strangers and had his own perception of the world as a place made up of small particles consisting of conversations, thoughts and cosmic powers. The first day we talked was at a party, he was a friend of a friend of a friend. Or not really a friend, since he believes he has no real friends. We sat next to each other and after being introduced we didn’t talk for a long time. At one point we realized that we were both quiet and probably bored and he turned his head towards me and made a small sound, while he was smiling, like he was nervous but wanted contact. As a standard reaction I raised my glass and said cheers and he raised his and said he felt like leaving. I did too so we went outside for some fresh air. We talked about being bored and made random comparisons between boredom at a party, astronomy and public bathrooms. He made me

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feel comfortable, like he was me, but in a rested and peaceful version, without the nerves and constant guilt, which made me feel so inspired. We talked about childhood memories that we shared, we had both watched the same movies when we were kids and we talked about Jim Carrey and Steve Martin and Eddie Murphy. He asked if we should watch some films together so we left, without saying goodbye to the others and went to his room to watch movies. We were on his bed and laughing about him having a vcr and a bunch of videotapes. We started watching The Mask and fell asleep. I woke up at 8 and he was asleep and I started to touch his cheek and he woke up and looked at me smiling. We never kissed but mostly watched old comedies in his room, since it was very cold outside that winter and we didn’t want to go out so much. Three months later he went to China as an exchange student and and we kept in touch by email, but one day I didn’t answer and I wanted to forget that he existed. I felt that his life was getting too interesting and I could no longer compeed. I didn’t try.

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Let’s start from the beginning, actually – if this process has any real beginning.

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What creates this Where is it located in my body? Is it in my mind? I have a fear of being alone and being disliked.

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IN PAIN

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Sure I have illness and fears. I’m thinking about time and life. One day you might feel fine and the next you’re not able to walk. I’m so scared that my life is just running away from me and I can’t follow, cause it moves too fast. My pain doesn’t have a name. It’s invisible to the eye and the ones outside, so they don’t understand. The pain comes and goes, but I shouldn’t be scared of it. I shouldn’t be scared of anything, my sickness, my reality, my future. I wanna enjoy life all the time, every day, every minute. I don’t stand still, I don’t want to. I choose to move.

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THE FEAR I GET - 24 -


when: I’m not included I’m late Time’s running out Someone corrects me I see a spider No one is listening I forget I’ve done bad I stop living Someone’s disappointing me I don’t feel pretty enough I think about my weight People die I don’t care enough I’m missing out I can’t be where I want to be

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UGLY

I WANT TO LOOK UGLY, SO UGLY SO THAT PEOPLE CAN’T STAND LOOKING AT ME.

I WANT TO SING SO EVERYONE COVERS THEY EARS. I WANT TO WRITE PRETENTIOUS, CRINGE-WORTHY POEMS AND ESSAYS. I WANT TO FAIL TESTS THAT COULD DETERMINE MY FUTURE POSITION. I WANT TEACHERS TO CAREFULLY APPROACH ME WITH WORRIED LOOKS AND STERN SMILES FULL OF PITY. I WANT MY PARENTS TO SIT ME DOWN AND TELL ME TO GET MY SHIT TOGETHER. I WANT TO BE A BURDEN, A DISAPPOINTMENT. I WANT PEOPLE TO THINK I’M BORING. I WANT TO TALK TOO MUCH. I WANT MY FRIENDS TO STOP LIKING ME. I WANT EVERYONE TO FIND ME UNATTRACTIVE AND UNDESIRABLE. I WANT TO TRY TO SEDUCE PEOPLE AWKWARDLY AND FAIL HORRIBLY. I WANT TO BE TOO PUSHY, TOO CLINGY. I WANT TO BE ABANDONED, DESERTED. I WANT TO LIE ON THE COUCH FOR DAYS, HOURS, WEEKS AND GO FOREVER WITHOUT SHOWERING. I WANT TO BE USELESS, PATHETIC. I WANT TO GO TO MOVIES, DINNERS, PARTIES ALONE. I WANT TO BE A SAD LOSER WHO DOESN’T HAVE A LIFE. I WANT TO GO TO PARTIES I’M NOT INVITED TO AND GET REALLY WASTED AND HIT ON EVERYONE WITH NO SUCCESS.

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I WANT TO BREAK THINGS AT THEIR HOUSES AND NOT BE ABLE TO PAY FOR THE STUFF I BROKE. I WANT TO THROW UP EVERYWHERE AND ON LOTS OF PEOPLE AND BE A GENERAL ABSOLUTE NUISANCE UNTIL I’M THROWN OUT. I WANT TO GO TO LOTS OF JOB INTERVIEWS WITHOUT GETTING HIRED ANYWHERE. I WANT TO BE BROKE. I WANT TO BE IN DEBT AND CALL EVERYONE I KNOW BEGGING THEM FOR MONEY. I WANT EVERYONE TO HATE ME, BUT TO PITY ME TOO. I WANT TO BE THE WORST SCUM WALKING THE EARTH. I WANT TO DIE ALONE, WITHOUT ANYONE NOTICING THAT I’M GONE, IF THEY DO, I WANT THEM TO THINK ”FINALLY”! I WANT THE ONLY TEARS TO BE SHED AT MY FUNERAL TO BE TEARS OF JOY, OR NO, I DON’T WANT ANYONE TO COME TO MY FUNERAL. I JUST WANT MY CORPSE TO BE LEFT TO ROT IN THE GARBAGE SOMEWHERE, MAYBE I WILL BE MAGGOT-FOOD AND THAT WILL BE THE ONLY THING I EVER CONTRIBUTED WITH ON THIS EARTH. OR NO. NOT EVEN MAGGOTS, CROWS OR RATS WILL WANT ME. I WANT MY LIFE TO BE COMPLETELY WITHOUT ANY KIND OF PURPOSE. THE END

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INFERIOR TO OTHER PEOPLE


I fail and fuck up

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NOT AFRAID

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Emotions drive my head and thoughts become clouded. Happines deceives my eye and makes my brain cry. Silence makes me grow. Death doesn’t scare me. Intelligence takes me furhter.

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I feel down today. Disgusted by myself. I want to get out of my body. I feel like the centre of the universe, the core of chaos, that is what I am. what I'll be until I die.

I had fallen down in the deepest and darkest hole of amy life. My friends came to visit me. I was happy. A new thought came to me. From there I could make my life become anything I wanted. That was the beginning of my new life.

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DOWN


I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I FEEL SO SAD I JUST FEEL SO SAD

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WHY DID WE NEVER TALK ABOUT DEATH. WHO SHOULD I ASK FOR HELP IF I GET REALLY SCARED. SO SCARED I CAN´T GET OUT OF BED. WHAT SHOULD I DO IF I FOUND OUT THAT I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN LIVE? WHY IS IT SO GREAT TO BE ALIVE WHAT MAKES MY LIFE SO PRECIOUS – SHOULD IT BE PRECIOUS – WHAT MADE IT PRECIOUS? WHY SHOULD I BE A MOTHER? IS IT IMPORTANT TO HAVE BABIES? IS IT IMPORTANT TO HAVE KIDS? IS IT IMPORTANT TO FIND LOVE? WHO SHOULD I SHARE MY LIFE WITH? SHOULD IT BE ONLY ONE? WHY AM I SO CONFUSED ABOUT WHAT PEOPLE THINK? - 41 -


HURTS Like knives in my throat

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I felt ignored, not included. Like when we were supposed to talk in a circle you skipped me. The situation felt really bad. I felt disrespected, we’re all in this together, we have all agreed. I can be my usual self, but I have come to this other world as a new being and it’s hard. Respect me. I actually wanted to hurt me, cut me, stick a knife in my throat and to bleed, cause that’s the feeling I have inside. Is this a funeral, is it? It’s where birth and death meet. Some will leave, some will come. I will miss you. The end is a beginning. Was it a wedding or was the love our center? I felt it before, I will feel it again.

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To all who don’t feel ready for tomorrow, fully loaded with energy or an open mind. Neither do I. It’s okay to feel nervous. I think we all do. What to expect?

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I dreamed of classes where I learned to fly and of classes in which all the teachers were getting their teeth brushed with floss by small schoolkids while they were hidden under moving boxes. And while moving through my life, moving from one place to another, indeed I was polished by the people in my life, and I still am being polished. We all have to return, we have to live lives of human beings, because we believe we are.

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PUSS





2 IS IT PROGRESSION When called for, I walk towards the strong light, blinded at first, but when we are blinded we can be free. I grow in silence, as much as in noise.




SECOND MEETING I met a person last summer. He was not the one he was supposed to be. He had never tasted the feeling of freedom. I met him everyday but we never talked to each other. We only gave each other secret attention in hope of some sort of contact. Time moved fast this time and I lost him for a while. Much happened that made me feel hopelessly dumb. We met at a persons gathering one week before school and things turned out fine but not good. We came to that point when we didn’t know how to express our feelings with each other when we were in the same space, just the two of us. I could feel his love but I could not see it, which scared me. And he saw I was scared so he tried to do more but nothing turned out as I hoped. One day he texted me, I got happy. He cared at least. And I hoped for good happenings. We continued texting for weeks, everyday we told each other something new about ourselves. We

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started to know each other. We started to meet each other. I started to love him. I remember the first time I met him. I followed him home, lied to my parents and sat there with him. I felt his nervous feeling, we were sitting in the same space feeling each others breath. Feeling the intensity between us growing, like now I know, show him that you know or am I allowed to do that? And then we jumped on each other, and I kissed him, not like the first time, this time we showed care, showed kindness and some sort of accept. We lied down looking at each other, feeling ourselves together. Time moved fast. He gave me a ride on his moped in the night. I hugged him from behind holding him close, driving in the middle of the forest. The trees were like a tunnel for us to follow. He left me at the bus station and we watched the moon. It was bigger than ever, glowing more than ever. He hugged me from behind and we were

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standing there until the bus came, feeling the energy from each other, loving each other. Loving everything of each other. I felt happy. Now he is sitting in my lap and we have been everywhere together and it’s almost half a year now since we decided to trust in love. And I still do. Time moves fast.

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GUIDE ME PLEASE - 60 -


Thoughts are blooming but my eyes are very sharp still. Today I cried. I was so happy because I felt. I have a hard time trusting people with pieces of myself. In the trust circle I had to put my body in the hands of others. I felt a tension. I couldn’t relax. But when I heard a voice I focused on that. My legs disappeared. I let others guide me. It felt amazing. The sensation of floating yet sinking to the floor. Your body so close, yet so distant. A sensation of breathing for real, not just to survive. I am floating on the bottom of the ocean. Like a heavy metal floating in water.

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AS I TYPE... As I start typing I also

I have reached one hundred

start counting and as I al-

and seventy-one words before

ready pause my writing in

even thinking of the poten-

order to count there are

tial need for a punctuation

twenty-seven words and I

mark. Full stop.

think of what to make of this

One hundred and ninety-one,

number and if these twen-

already increased to one

ty-seven, now forty-four,

hundred and ninety-eight

words could have been used

because of the words used

in a better way and now I

to write out the number in

have already used sixty

letters – now two hundred

words and thereby reduced

and fifteen and I notice how

the amount of words befo-

my software automatically

re reaching the given limit

offers to count the words,

allowed by you and I wonder

something I appreciate now

how to express my emerging

as I keep counting the words

sense of a poetic self in

but also something that makes

this text just as I wonder

me worry as soon as I become

how to express any poetic

aware of how it breaks down

self in any text and reali-

my writing into single ele-

zing that this has taken one

ments of countable entities

hundred and six words so far

suggesting that the literal

it is time to bring the word

number of words contains

academic into text because

an essence of my thinking

the search for a poetic self

which again makes me won-

is easily afflicted with the

der how we might understand

search for an academic iden-

the relationship between

tity and this I suggest has

the words themselves and

everything to do with the

the way they become entang-

process of writing like the

led in text, during writing,

one I am undertaking now and

through thinking, in other

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Dot.

words in the making, and how this again might express a poetic self or parts of it

Acapoemically epidemic.

– which again makes me won-

Epedemic self?

der whether a poetic self can at all be divided into

Myself. Yourself. Us. After

parts and if some of the-

precisely four hundred and

se parts then might relate

eighteen words I am conti-

more to the word academic

nuously counting words, wri-

than others and using this

ting words, thinking through

word, academic, again makes

words, and as I am about to

me stumble and I decide that

end this word count I have

after three hundred and se-

used until now four hundred

venty-two words it is time

and forty-eight words to

for another full stop. Dot.

open up my investigation of the relation between my

Academic.

academic self and my poetic

Just one word.

self in text as text through

Poetic is another

text and I express my urge

Dot.

to investigate the materialisation of my poetic self

Poetically academic

outside these words in or-

Dot.

der to acknowledge how much words count.

Academically poetic Dot. Towards a poetic of academics? Question mark. Academically polemic

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FAILURE There are so many questions. Are there answers? I feel like I say ”I don’t know” a lot. I have so many thoughts, but I feel like they are meaningless. I still have the feeling that I could do wrong and worst of all is failure. I spend everyday avoiding it, but I never do. I spend all my time trying, but never figure out how. I look at the others and some never seem to fail. Even in not trying at all they succeed and I don’t. I feel like half a person. Someone who never excells and never really fails. But I know as I write that these are not the right emotions and I therefore correct them again. Censor myself once more.

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THE SEARCH

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Who do I want to be? I can choose every step and every move but most times I don’t. I search in peoples eyes. I search in space.. I want to find something unknown, but something I know is good. I want to go to the moon, I want to go to China and there I’ll be the moon. I’ll be searching for the world I want to live in and the place I want to live and the person I want to live as and the people I want around me. I don’t want to push but I feel like I’m in the beginning. The beginning of very much. I don’t know what. I am searching for safety. I am searching for me.

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I want to feel the power of touching a stranger. Coexistence is an art, but it will tear you apart. Will it mend your heart? You took my hands and washed them slowly and gently in oils, that smelled like myrrh and jasmine. My eyes were blinded by a flood of light at the end of a dark, dark tunnel. Gold was brushed over my fingertips like a gently whispered secret or a shouting thunder.

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I’M NOT DEAD I have always felt that I don’t fit in, like I have no place in society. Sometimes when this feeling gets overwhelming I run out in the forest. When I’m out there I feel whole, I feel like I’m a natural part of everything and I discover that my place is in the wild. There I get to be just who I want to be, the real me. I feel connected, blissful, true, alive. The truth is that I’ve always felt like that. I’ve always felt connected to my poetic self. In my deepest I really feel who I am, I can feel my soul. I believe that for most people the problem is that they bury their soul under so many layers, so some people forget. They forget who they really are deep inside. They replace reality with something that’s not real for them, something that’s just made up. I think that’s the reason why people walk around like they’re dead, because their reality is not allowed, not for others and not for themselves. - 77 -


None of us had tasted the food before we served it. You know, it COULD have been really really bad. But it wasn´t, it was heavenly. And we did all that on our own.


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TEARS something that needs to get out of my body

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When I was with you, I could feel, because you were true to yourself. You were so true, I didn’t have to pretend. The simplicity and implicitness made waves of emotions possible that allowed my ocean of imprisoned tears to start flowing. I am getting to know the ocean of tears between the shore I’m standing on and those depths that the other Islands are rooted in. Slowmotion in a flow. Then, I got so scared again when I had to leave… The world swallowed me and I was scared I would lose my memories. I had touched the ocean,

Really fucking scary.

breathed it’s air and kissed its surface but the hope of

Laugh about it.

returning remained with me and never let go of me. So

Tears.

every passing day a part of me sensed your loving gaze upon myself, right behind the next corner, and even in my dreams.

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SECONDS OR DAYS

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I made a promise to myself to no longer be imprisoned by time, by this artificial sense of impending anything. If we must speak of time, I will say that two (infinity) days passed unaware and yet shone with a diamond light through each moment, like the moon itself. Suddenly it was time to begin the exit ritual. What if we would be grown-ups at the age of eight? what if eighteen were eight? Who decides when we’re grown up? Time is an illusion, age is an illusion. Space is important, space to move in and out. Space that can expand and surround us. Space is fluid and my place and function in space are not limited. My function depends on me, myself, the forces and you.

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3 IS IT OVER I don’t like goodbye and I’m not sure I like hello. How can this be it? I wanna be a celebrity, I wanna sing and travel the world with the love of my life. But just don’t go.




THIRD MEETING I try to think about who’s my real friends. People often say that you have friends and ”friends”, who are not really your friends, only on the surface, like on Facebook. The weekend, afternoon at home. I’m stuck in the same place, looking out the window. Outside there’s a beach and people are playing, but my leg is broken and in a cast, so I have to stay inside. I feel that I should join them, I see these girls I know, I see this girl I used to have a crush on, she’s lying in the sand on a towel, she’s wearing a blue beach dress. I knock on my window harder and harder, but of course she can’t hear me, she’s too far away. I still haven’t figured out if she’s on her own, or if she’s waiting for someone, so I keep observing her. There’s not much to watch, I think she might be sleeping. I wonder why I was ever in love with her. I met her in a closed room, a photo studio at school. She walked in and I turned around and we were suddenly standing very close. Her face gave me a strange feeling, not exactly attraction. I wonder if the fact that we were physically close the first time we met played a role in the emotional impact she had

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on me. Since I had my back to the door and she sneaked in quietly I was startled by her presence when I turned around and saw her. We didn’t talk but I felt like we starred at each other for a long time, although it was probably less than two seconds. I felt like touching her face, like it was an object. She didn’t seem human and her appearance was hard to define, something different. We started having photography classes together and we sometimes teamed up in a group. I felt like she should be the object to photograph and I, being he boy, should be the photographer, but the truth was that she was more talented than me and anyone else in the class. We talked over lunch in the group and she explained that she didn’t want to be a photographer, she wanted to be a psychiatrist, which made me like her more. She felt so complete and with every opportunity in the world ahead. My only talent seemed to be with numbers, but once again I felt certain that she exceeded me in that as well. I look outside, she’s gone. There’s a knock on my door and I have the feeling it might be her. It’s her, she’s standing outside in a robe and

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flip flops, looking tired. She has a key chain around her neck and her eyes look drowsy from the saltwater. We hug and she walks in. She’s been here before, but never alone. I tell her that nobody’s home and she says “you are”. We’re not really flirting. She asks if she should make coffee since I shouldn’t get up and I say yes. We drink the coffee and talk about summer and what’s to come. We just graduated and I have no plans. She already applied to Medical School but feels unsure about it. She also applied to nursing school, as a second choice and psychology as her third and last choice. She asks me if I think she’ll make a good nurse and I say yes. We’re looking at the beach together and she asks if I saw her sleeping there. Out of the blue I say that I think she’d make a better photographer. She raises her eyebrow and looks at me with an irritated face. She tells me that she has to go after the coffee, she drinks the rest, stands up and gives me a hug and walks out politely. I look at the beach and see an old girlfriend, she’s dyed her hair black. She’s on the bench with her laptop. I’m thinking that it’s a bad idea to bring it to the beach. Her friend arrives and her new boyfriend. They kiss and I feel happy.

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BURSTING

I’M IN LOVE WITH MY OWN DREAMS. BITTER TEA A FIELD WITH A MILLION FLOWERS BUSY STREETS FLASHING COLORS COFFEE THAT’S TOO SWEET A TRAIN, SOUND OF THE RAILS IN THE STATION TAKE ME TO THE BUSIEST STREETS, LET ME DROWN IN THE CROWDS, IN THE WAVES OF VOICES. TODAY I FEEL SCARED. I FEEL COLD. I WANT TO HIDE WITHIN THE EARTH. CLOSER TO THE CENTRE. CLOSER TO THE WARMTH.

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OUR ECHO LINGERS ON - 96 -


There is an echo still in me. An echo of the poetry we created, the poetry that is still created in the enclosed space of sisters academy. Birds were singing and crickets were playing, and time stood still and went really fast and jumped between all coordinates in a room. Voices were set free and sounds were found, and lost, and found again. We were growing like mushrooms, fruits emerging from the vast but hidden mycelium, secretly connected with white threads that sometimes glow in the dark. We looked really weird and we laughed at ourselves and the world. When we were blinded we could be free.

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I like thoughts that are fresh and fragile- Thoughts that may break and the feeling it gives you when you think of something in a different way and you have to explore it. When I left you I felt like a new world started, where every feeling is welcome. No matter how small and dark I can feel, I BELONG in space, sharing the light that will certainly come. And how much lovelier a night is when it is moonlit. So lovely that the impression of it stays long after the moon has disappeared.

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THIS EVENING AND THIS NIGHT, LIFE IS FUCKING ME!

IT FEELS LIKE TONIGHT I EXPLORED MYSELF FURTHER. I’M SO IN LOVE WITH EVERYONE. SO MUCH LOVE, SO MUCH HAPPINESS.

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MOON No matter how small and dark I can feel, I BELONG in space, sharing the light that will certainly come. And how much lovelier a night is when it is moonlit. So lovely that the impression of it stays long after the moon has disappeared.

The dark is sizzling and buzzing with light. Never trusting a creature for what if the moon was our sun? Would we know light? Would we know darkness? A medium of long gone memories playing with light in hour head. Like moonlight that poisons the earth with glitter and death.


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DANCING This weekend I was stuck in Copenhagen and when I came home I was sick. I was dancing all night and I felt so free, just being barefoot and feeling the music. It felt like this negative energy got out through our movements, our shared energy escaped and after some time we both started laughing. It’s about using bodyparts for the first time. It begins with one fin-

Imagine many dances taking

ger, hands, arms, then the

place in the same space,

back, arm on the other

making up a bigger dance,

side. It’s like discovering

that belongs to nobody. No

your own body for the very

one who knows what this

first time. The first time

dance is supposed to be

in your lovely life you

like.

discover.

Consider this a way of creating freedom from the dictatorship of taste and intuition. Consider intuition the fastest assimilation of everything you already know, everything you already learnt. - 111 -


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BIRTH is no painless experience

Eggs scattered everywhere or carefully placed outside the teachers doors, cooked into meals or lying in forms of crystal, glass and fiber throughout the Academy’s many levels. A steady hum of soft voices, improvised song and tapestry-like conversations, warming up the womb at all hours. We stewed and grew, like sweet succulents in the garden, watering hungry seeds, each teacher sang a song of love in the garden of our souls. Our birth loomed both heavy and light before us.

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ATTRACTION

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I have only been observing you from a distance but I still feel a deep connection and magnetic attraction to you as a being. I feel that I want to thank you for giving me so much joy only by looking at you. Sometimes I feel like I have swallowed a box of

Something happens when I

fireworks and sometimes I

look at her. Am I having

just feel calm in your pre-

a psychosis? She’s tur-

sence. I just want to thank

ning into the most beauti-

you for giving me those

ful work of art I’ve ever

feelings, it has made me

seen. Something is hurting

realize many things about

inside of me. Help me, I’m

myself. Your whole existen-

lost. Can I stop time? Her

ce, as a creature in the

lips move in slow motion.

world, is something I find

Talking, licking themsel-

so very beautiful.

ves, pure beauty. I feel so calm, yet so stressed. And then I see true beauty in everything, even in myself. I’ve taken a million steps and I don’t know who I am anymore. Someone called me a woman and asked if I’m a girl. I told him I’m a tree. I love everything I am, everything I’ve become. I am so fucking awesome.

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TASTE a purpose in seeing with my eyes

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I eat the world amazingly fast, I don’t know how to measure the speed. I eat more carefully when I take away my visual sight. I taste before I swallow. When I have been blindfolded for a long time and start to use my visual sight again, I have the feeling that I use my eyes more actively. I like to see the act of blindfolding as an active choice and the act of seeing with my eyes as an active choice as well. I experience being full. Satisfaction. When have I had enough? It’s so tempting to go on eating, when I don’t feel that I’ve had any food at all.

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EXIT

- 122 -


We end the ritual and leave with hugs and wishes of love. Standing on the platform waiting for the right train to arrive, I felt silent. A weighty tiredness drew over me and I closed my eyes as I waited, feeling every little bit of the newborn cast in the outside world. On the train a young man sat next to me. Remembering to be untamed, if only in small steps, I started a conversation with him. Right before we parted, he revealed he was a student of astronomy and that he would be at the observatory that evening and that I was welcome to meet him there. And as he left, I laughed with surprise, and delight. Of course he wanted to see me again, for I am the moon.

- 123 -


- 124 -


- 125 -


I promise that I won’t hate myself


Even when I’m quiet, when I’m awkward, when I fail or fuck up. It doesn’t matter.

- 127 -






DISCOVERIES - SISTERS HOPE Copenhagen 2016 - 132 -


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