It's simple, we don't want to kill

-Té, coffee?
-Sir, would you like té or some coffee maybe?
I snap out of delirium and realize where I am again. In a giant metal tube soaring among the clouds on an early friday morning somewhere above Italy or Austria.
-No thanks, I'll have a gin and tonic please.
-Well I don't know if we serve liquor this early in the morning sir.
-Well then I suggest you go and see if you do because I need to keep my buzz going so I don't get hung over in the air and if I don't get sedated pretty soon the little son of a bitch behind me is gonna celebrate his 7'th birthday as a cripple in a wheelchair! Thank you.

The night before this brutal incident me and the singapore slinger aka William had be out having some beers and been obnoxiously bored at the shitty discoteque called Hollywood (don't ever ever go there). Sitting at our new 'local' we had some nice laughs reminicing about times past and about future arriving. We get back to the appartment at a staggering four in the morning, I get a cats nap for 45 minutes until my taxi comes and roars me of to the airport. Through the dirty dirty streets of the fashion capital we zoom, in neighbourhoods I've never seen before. I'm sure that he's driving me of to rob me but I'm to hazy to even care.

A tired girl standing at the check-in counter melancolically agrees to let me check in my over-weight bagage, she's also to tired to even care. The only one who doesn't seem to be tired is this seven year old little brat running around screaming! -Man I hope they restrain him or atleast pop him some valium before we get on the plane-

Back to reality again! Té, coffee reality. Fucking kid shouting behind me, snoring guy besides me and buissness fucker infront tilting his chair even though I fight back with my knees. -*Plong!* Yes, can I get another Gin and Tonic please, ASAP!-

Looking down at the water from the train speeding over the giant bridge connecting Denmark and Sweden I see a mellow sunrise and as Catatonia sings 'make hay not war' in my speakers my soul feel peace. The steady tapping from the train rocks me into sleep until we arrive.

I'm back on allied gound again, my dearest of friends is here waiting for me.
-Lets go on a new adventure, shall we?
-Well ofcourse my friend!

"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats
floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tene- ment roofs
illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the
scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burn- ing their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror
through the wall, "

- Alan Ginsberg

In a very big way, I'm really small

I'm walking down Vittiro Emanuele with my peddigre chum William. I've been out and seen two agencies. Joy and Future. It's striked me kinda funny that five minutes after I sent out two emails to them both of them call me upp and want me to come and see them. Well I have now done that and a choice is to be made.

Holy mother of a thousand whores, it's THE GUY!!!!
When you look at him standing or well, trying to dance flamenco with a rose in his mouth and a pair of black supercalifragilisticexphialadociously tight pants which neatly sepperates the cock from the balls in two masculine packages. You kinda think dear lord what kind of sick joke is this? I mean poor guy!
Well I see a the most original guy in whole milan when I look. I've even seen him one time at a metrostop in the outskirts of Milan, still dressed the same way. He's for real!

Later at night I meet up with dear friends from fled times and had some laughs and some cocktail wiennies. It was great mum!

The present has gone. Fantasy is a part of reality, but we take the breaks off. We're thinking clearly, yet not thinking at all. This feels right. We stop trying to control things; a warm rush of chemicals through us. Is this brain damage? We forget all the hurt and pain in life. We wanna go somewhere else. We're not threatened by people anymore. All our insecurities have evaporated. We're in the clouds now. Wide open, we're spacemen, orbiting the earth. Yea, the world looks beautiful from here. We're nympholeptics, desiring for the unattainable. We risk sanity for moments of temporary enlightenment. So many ideas, so little memory. The last thought killed by anticipation of the next. We embrace an overwhelming feeling of love. We flow in unison. We're together. I wish this was real. We want a universal level of togetherness, where we're comfortable with everyone. We're in rhythym, part of the movement. We wave goodbye,. Ultimately, we just want to be happy. Yeah, yeah (laughs) What the fuck was I just talking about?

I feel so funny in my tummy, daddy don't touch me...

Once again I try to recollect my memories to produce a flowing context of my last days. Cyber space...

I'm standing in the prive area of plastic once again. This sublime post overlooking the dancefloor beneth. People are jumping, the song goes you're so lucky lucky lucky!! Well am I? Do i feel lcky? Personaly I feel this is bullshit, I'm drunk out of my head again and this guy keeps bumping into me! -Not a fuckin again dude!- i turn around to push the fucker away from me when who do I see that bumped into me? Skin from Skunk Anansie. She gently smiles and holds up her hands as a mute 'sorry'. Okay then, fair enough.

A day goes blurring by. My only memory from this day is that I realized that I really prefer my cigaretts squashed into squares. I think I'm going to market this idea, square fags. Well I probably the corporate whores will once again take my idea, pay me some money and then make it into a milion dollar campaign. Than again the idea of marketing death in a new form, square not round, kinda bugs me a bit.

Back at plastic, another day went by and the night arrived punctually as always. Music is pumping. -Ich habben dich nicht verstand- hurry hurry to the dancefloor everyone! Girls in dyed black hair with black and white striped sweaters everywhere. Snap back to reality. -Oh yes hello, my name is Nicklas. No I'm from Sweden. Do I know Jan Owe Wallner? Well not personaly but ofcourse I know of him.- It suddenly strikes me that I'm chitchatting to a fake blond lesbian who is a proffesional pingpong player! Well that is something I would never have guessed existed never the less that I would bump into one.

I'm going to be off pretty soon back to the real world it seems. To a jobb and a bar. To family and friends. To pink underlined pages and bad radio stations. To snow and kebabs at five o'clock in the morning.

"You used to ride in a chrome horse with your diplomat, who carried on his shoulder a siamese cat. Ain't it hard when you discover that, he wasn't where it's at. After he took from you everything he could steal. So HOW does it feel?"

She tied you to her kitchen chair

Next please.
Yes, arhm, I would like a ticket for Pesaro please.
28 euro.
The deal was done, I'm getting on the train to go on a four hour ride thru the italian country side down to the coast, where I can finaly breath some fresh air.
I sit down in a coupé, the train wont leave for another ten minutes. Jesus christ child you scared me. This young gypsy girl is beggig me for money. I give her 30 cents (which was all I had). She's not content with this and starts to do weird throat noises and shows me this green slime/spitt on the tip of her tongue and shoves out her hand for more money. God is she gonna spitt on me? look little girl I don't have anymore money on me, that was it all. With angry eyes she realize that I don't have more money and - I think is about to spit on me- when to my rescue a trainemployee comes and shoves her away.

Strangely I'm not mad or pist off. I'm bewildered about this child, that she is so desperate that she would acctually spit on people if they didn't give her money. - The train takes off -

After a couple hours ride suddenly and ofcourse, the baglady gets into my coupé with a whole weeks edition of newspapers, every single one, Corriere della Sera, Reppublica etc etc. She starts muttering something unrecognizable and picks up some pastries from one of her bags. This woman scares me. She looks like one of those middle-age women that have given up everything to fly of to Ukraine to teach underprivelidge retarded kids in the vicinity of Tjernobly.

Next stop, Pesaro!
Finaly I'm there. I run into Filipo (my model coprostitute for this trip) and we stand around outside the station smoking a joint and waiting for the guy to arrive. Taxi pulls up and this guy jumps out and greets us as Fabio. Off we roar! to a beauty/hairsalon. (Fabio is one of the owners of this asylum for divas as he called it) I'm thinking to myself what the fuck is he on about, there maybe 20 000 people living in this town, how many a-camp queers can there be? By this point Fabio directs us to the solarium part for taning. By the mercy of fucking J this man wont stop going on about how gay he is and well, yeah how gay he is. "You know I'm gay rarararara I only go to gaybars rarara". You're really getting on my fine nerves with that shit man!

We finaly get to the resturant, a nice seafood place just by the water. I'm famished and just want to eat. but noooooo first I have to go around all tables and say hello to every single fucking woman in the resturant - about 50 of them or so -. Ahh food atlast! Nooooo now some latino girl starts raving in the mic about the good old days when boys would ask the girls to dance. "Sooo go one Nicklas and Filipo ask any of these BEAUTIFUL ladies for a dance!". woopdyfuckindoo how much fun! Who should i pick? first one I see, that's good enough. So now I'm dancing slowdance with a pudgy italian girl to some 80'ies revival songs. And all i want to do is just eat and obliberate myself on Jack and Coke. Well that happens soon enough and around two a.m a taxi comes and takes me to the hotel, where I loot the minibar and the bathroom for soap, switch on the TV to some payperview shitty italian porn and fall asleep blissfully.

In the black star there's a red light

Delirious days have followed since last. The streets seem to have gotten a serene light from a spring weary sun.
Three girls are sitting on the tram looking at me. What are they looking at? They're really starting to break my fucking balls.
Anyways with another successful testshoot in my pocket I feel that the day has been fruitful. And tomorrow I venture of to Pesaro for a night of goneness and financial abuse of some rich italian guys money.

Saturday was a given night of the carnevale. A huge fuck off orgy of confetti, floats and some very weird transvestites. We decided to spend our night at le fantasique PLASTIC. The halls were deck with artificial snow that glowed in the ultra violet lighting. It broke of the floor from the black walls with orange and green neon bubbles on. Dancing like butterflies on mandrax and I glutenized happily in Jack Daniels and Coca Cola all night. The night came to an end around 6 am when we to flight on a homebound tram.

Swirling nights, delirious days and some thoughts about a cat on cocaine that deleted his myspace and moved to San Diego.

Live long and prosper (vulcan)

Extra add:
"He would have to roam the entir united states looking and look in every garbage pail from coast to coast before he found me embryonically convoluted among the rubbish of my life, his life, and the life of everbody concerned and not concerned. What would I have said to him from my rubbish womb? "Don't bother me, man, I'm happy where I am. You lost me one night in Detriot in August 1949. What right have you to come and disturb my reverie in the pukish can?""

If I had a bee on a string

The blond little girl shakes her head in a spastical frenzy, she screams into the mircophone.
The bass player is tumbling thru the railing on the stage down to the crowd. My god what is this?
-This is the band called Be Your Own Pet-

In the mist of this Criss and yours truely is jumping up and down, pogoing down on the italian crowd. Dancing like wasps, well more fighting to the ryhtm as William later called it. We're fumbling around the club, the plastic. A girl grabs my arm, pulls me down and tell me in poor english -You are so tall, you go in back because I can't see- Good God girl this is an electro-punk concert and the front is supposed to be a moshpit! Fuck off! Was my gentle reply.

The week had unrooled pretty nicely before this aswell. Hilarious conversations about bees on strings, dick-jockey's and and english kid going on about something like "I don't fuckin care I'm English, i want a fackin kettle."

So in rightwing fashion we nurture Xenophobia.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006


So in rightwing fashion we nurture Xenophobia.

I'm very and most surely confussed right now. Packing my bags in a hurry. The call to leave came suddenly I guess. I was going to stick around maybe find out a reason for my constant pursuit of this thing called happiness. I think I was very close this time. Very well, now a journey remains. As early as two hours ago I had argued with myself to stay. The reasons now seem bloated out, where there any?

The two honeybrown eyes closed halfway, lingered for a little while, then closed completely. like a cat being caressed to the point of sleepyness. - She is really what I think I been looking for. -
I suppose this was one reason......

These goddamn solitary moments of sangual blizzards gets to me hard. My blood and brain never liked to cooperate. I curse this mind of mine. Money, money always shouting money! - Will you make me laugh, will you make me cry, will you tell me when to live and will you tell me when to die? -

So here I am. just floated upon a beach on a plank of wood and styrofoam.
I hate this place. And it really seems to hate me aswell.

Well maybe I'll see her again somewhere.

In a strange and curious way the universe tends to work out fine.

Saturday, February 11, 2006


In a strange and curious way the universe tends to work out fine.

I've been tripping out on these spacecakes now for 4 hours. I never done this before. Looking around me everyones dancing and swinging from the roof. The colossal pounding of the strobe lights makes it hard to identify anyone - sweet jesus I just walked right through that kid. I close my eyes and take a deep breath for the perilous task of trying to walk across the dance floor, up the stairs and out to the smoking point.

With my eyes closed I feel the alcohol gently touching my spinalfluid like a warm syrup sliding down the erector spinae on it's way to tell my knees that they can go on a coffee break, loss of motor'skill is now well underway.
.... I better keep my eyes closed a little longer. The high-hat keeps it's rassling beat, a sound - like a screaming eagle - erupts and the music goes into a trance snare, faster swirrling - the snare drops and everyone burst into a collective attac on the dance. The green lasers circumsize every forehead in the euphoric crowd....

Made it out. omniuos guards seems to be closing in on me. Ignore this hienous paranoias inflicting your cerebral cortex... What was my purposed by going out here? And where is my wing-man on this here druged up club epic? Must have lost him to the crowd, a fine soldier. ... twisted, stoned, drunk... Good People!

Daylight! Another cake has gone to my head. The casting is back the my brother. Yes the secret handshake for models to know their kin. Like freemasons of stunning cheekbones and sculptured pecs.
- We don't need no baseball bats, we don't need no silver guns, what we got are face and names. -
- The tram rolls up behind me like malicious electric green dolphin, silent. Startled by this I jump back to safe distance agian. God dammit!
I gonna go home now, aw yes, sweet couch some camomilla tea to calm my poor nerves from the constant rape they've taken for so long now.

The city seemed to fade, evaporate or was it just me?

Thursday, February 09, 2006


The city seemed to fade, evaporate or was it just me?

I'm sitting on the stairs infront of the Duomo. Big burlesque gothic cathedral thing hawking of the masses, hordes of humans scouring around in the neo-modernistic plaza. Or is it Piazza? The monstrous iron gate to gods house are guarded by firearm wearing sentries. This is wierd, almighty God.

I'm rolling a cigarett and a rastafarian italian is coming up to me. Flipping a green lighter in my face. Weird moment, good guy though I think to myself, I'm gonna miss him.

My senses suddenly register something is mising in this postcard photo. By God! Where are all of the pre-pubescent italian girls with their banners? Shouldn't they be here by now? Cheering at Jesse McCarthney or Blue or who ever of the sugersweet slimey corporate popmusical whores? Where are they? Personaly I blame MTV.

The subway train on the red line direction Sesto F.S. is a reminder of 60ies thecnology still running in the infatile years of the millenium. It's smacked with mongering italians and what's this, a carneval of gypsies just got on. No man, No! Please don't serenade me with your carny music. There's even a little kid with violin.
The music don't provoke a singel reation in the masses of subway faces peering in the window to catch blackened reflection of them self.
The kid want money! Here take this, 50 cents.

Oh quick sidestep, evade those brown landmines on the sidewalk of this town that is whoremarked by them. I count atleast 58 cigarett butts and 9 dogshits on my breif walk from the metro to the apparment door.

Cheap wine in a drinking glas. I am pondering about all these people I seen today. What are their hobbies? Do they enjoy Bingo? Have they got any character or are they just clones of magazines and movies? Will anything they do matter? In 100 years they will all be dead. Every single one of the, the entire planet. So what makes a difference?
Well atleast it's been 14 C today....