Sunniva Creative soul with a crazy twist

There’s a room without windows or doors

I guess it was a prison cell in hell

I burned inside it for ages

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I’ll always remember the smell

The stench of fear and burning flesh..

Why is it always the worst parts of life we remember too well..?

There’s no greater evil

Than the devil that talks to you from within

I need armour of iron

And I need to wear it under my skin

I made it out, but there was a price

The devil made me roll the dice

I still gotta pay, each and every day

I am just a puppet in the devil’s play

I don’t have complete control

There’s times when someone else paves out the way

And every now and then I gotta return back to the cell and I got no choice but to stay

There’s no greater evil

Than the devil that talks from within

I need armour of iron

And I need to wear it under my skin

It took all I had

To walk away

Someone traced each step I made

A trail of blood, from walking on the blade

The future is merely just a shade

The good die young, of course I’m still alive

If I could, I would trade

Life scares me now, more than ever

My worst fear is to die

Only to discover I have to exist forever

There’s no greater evil

Than the devil that talks from within

I need armour of iron

And I need to wear it under my skin

I am so alone now

There’s no one talking louder than the voices in my head

They tell me to just go to sleep

and pretend that I am dead

But at some point I gotta wake up

Then they tell me how I fail

Bleeding from walking on the blade

All the devils are on my trail

They want me chained up and back in my cell

They tell me that all I have coming

Is burning for all eternity in hell

Now the stench of fear and burning flesh..

Now that’s all that I can smell

Why is it always the worst parts of life

we remember all to well..?

There’s no greater evil

Than the devil that talks from within

I need armour of iron

And I need to wear it under my skin

I need it under my skin!

I thought I had this all figured out

Why I had to go and leave my old life behind

I forged this heart from steel, but now it’s turning tender

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Time goes by, and now I can’t remember

I’m not quite sure how I feel

All I know, is I’m back in your arms

Ah, we had some good times, didn’t we

Although we both agree

That we are not each other’s destiny

But now you’re back inside of me

And we’re back to adding more pages

To this complicated history

I really thought I’d made up my mind

But I’ve said this before:

A good fuck is hard to find

I guess a good fuck can also make you go blind

But now I tell myself never mind

Back to dirty business, back to being your mistress

Pretending I can’t hear the ringing alarms

All I know, is I’m back in your arms

Ah, we had some good times, didn’t we

Although we both agree

That we are not ment to be

But now you’re back inside of me

And we’re back to adding more pages

To this complicated history

You’re in my bed and in my head again

Although I burned all the pages and flushed the ashes down the drain

And the story we write now, will probably end up just the same

I see it coming, so I only got myself to blame

Guess I’m addicted to this game

And addicted to you, and how you got my leg in spasms

It’s crazy what I’ll do

For these orgasms

Ah, we had some good times, didn’t we

Although we both agree

That we are not each other’s destiny

But now you’re back inside of me

And we’re back to adding more pages

To this complicated history

And I pretend, argh I’m so good at pretending!

Like I can’t hear the ringing of alarms

All I know, all I know is..

I’m back in your arms

The light, it seems too harsh at times

The days, they feel too long

I find it hard to get out the door sometimes

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Hoka på salg: Kupp årets modeller til nedsatt pris

There’s nowhere I belong

And they say «Memento mori»

«Remember, you’ll die soon

It’s time you start to live, now»

But I was made for the moon

The night feels warm and welcoming

There’s not a soul in the streets

I only fit in, when there’s no one else around

So I can go without daylight for weeks

And they say «Memento mori»

«Remember, you’ll die soon

It’s time you start to live, now»

But I, I was made for the moon

I don’t have anything to show up for

I’m so used to locked doors

It’s hard to find purpose, or meaning

It’s hard to believe in anything-

Least of all myself..

I used to lie to myself to get through life

I can’t lie to myself anymore

There’s no expectations in the darkness

There’s no one around that I can fail

I am too visible in the sunshine, all my flaws gets so exposed

I tell myself to be brave, go out there anyway

But to no avail

And they say «Memento mori»

«Remember, you’ll die soon

It’s time you start to live, now»

But I can only live under the moon

I used to be the one

I used to be just right

When I bit my tongue until it bled

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And kept all the angry words locked up in my head

And no matter what, I always welcomed you back into my bed

Well, I’m not her anymore

And now you’re only welcomed

By a locked door

Says I’m a bitch

Blames everyone else for being a snitch

Says bad rep is only based on lies and jealousy

»A good guy at the core» so I’m the bad guy now

You playing the victim, completely blind for the hypocrisy

Fine, I’ll play this bitch-card out

You don’t really have any clout

The type of person to shit from your mouth

Anything you got to shit to me now is met with doubt

And honestly I’m done with the stench

So ‘Scuse my french..

I still get thirsty but..

Ain’t something you can quench

I used to be the one

I used to be just right

When I looked the other way

And no matter how fucked up you’d get

I sucked it up and let you stay

Remember when you got kicked out of the bar?

And all the times you took it way too far?

I didn’t say shit, I kept it all in my head

And no matter what, I welcomed you back into bed

Like I couldn’t get satisfaction from someone else instead

Had to call an ambulance once, that was fun

And that time we met your enemies and you told me to run

And now you’d probably kill me, huh

If only you could afford that damn gun

Nah, I really did try but

Now my legs are crossed shut

I’ll run with this bitch-title and wear it with pride

I’ll take that one a thousand times over being your bride

I feel bad for whoever ends up that bitch ‘Cuz man she’s gotta be blue-eyed

In fact more like blind

’Scuse my french but

That bitch is gonna be hard to find

Whatever, now you’re outta sight and outta mind

I used to be the one

I used to be just right

When I bit my tongue until it bled

And kept all the angry words locked up in my head

And no matter what, I always welcomed you back into my bed

Used to ride ya ‘till your dick went sore

Well, I’m not her anymore

And now you’re only welcomed

By a locked door

It’s funny how for a while

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Netthandelen tømmer lageret: Siste sjanse på kvalitetsvarer med opptil 75% rabatt

You kinda kept me alive

And still, all this time it was

suicide, suicide, it was suicide

Now I can no longer hide or deny

I have to swallow my stubborn pride

There’s nothing left here that’s true

I can’t let go of me

I have to let go of you

Sweet, deceitful love

That burned between my hands

Now you hurt too much to hold

The heart that I threw it at

(I’m so sorry)

To me, forever remains closed and stone cold

In my mind we are forever young

In reality, we’re both turning too old

Too old for games, too old for lies

Too old to close our eyes

and make love in the darkness

I turn on the light now

and I see I’m alone

These four walls that surrounds me

They only ever made up my home

I was stupid I guess

’Cause I really did live for this mess

And all this time..

It was suicide, suicide, suicide

Now I can no longer fabricate evidence

Or lie to myself in self-defense

I have to swallow my damn pride

I can’t just let this slide

I can’t fight for something that ain’t true

I can’t live without myself (I need some more time before I die)

I can and I have to live without you (oh, you know all the reasons why)

Sweet, corrupted love

that burned between my thighs

I had to kill the flame

That kept us warm all those winter nights

(I’m so sorry)

I understand now, you never felt the same

In my mind, I guess I forced you to love me

In reality, such a thing could never be

Now I got to wake up and see

That I have to choose to live in reality

I am alone in the darkness

So I leave the lights off and keep you out of my dreams

Ah, all this time, it was suicide, suicide, suicide

So much more suicidal than it seems

Sweet love, that was never really real

All this time, I was the only one to feel

It did keep me alive

At the same bloody time..

It was suicide, suicide, suicide

I found only hell with you as my guide

And I’m not sorry, and you don’t feel a thing

You never asked for the heart I now unstring

In my mind, I made it all make sense

But it made my nerves too tense

Now I see it was madness

More than it was the cure for my sadness

You never held on to me at all

I was a fool, but now I know

And now I’m ready, ‘cause all this time..

It was suicide, suicide, suicide

And by choosing life

I let you go

Jeg forteller meg selv at jeg vet hvem jeg er, hva jeg mener, hva jeg står for, hva jeg liker. Forteller meg selv at jeg tør å være den jeg innerst inne er. At jeg står for det.

Men faen, så mange episoder det har vært de siste 8 årene der jeg sa alt det der, og trodde det 100% og så gikk det noen måneder og herregud som det smalt som et tog i fleisen min når jeg våkna og skjønte hvor feil jeg hadde tatt, og hvor sinnsyk den troa på meg selv i realiteten var. Og hvor mye psykotisk pisspreik og bisarre vrangforestillinger jeg hadde latt hjernen min renne over med, og attpåtil spydd ut til hele verden.

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Superkupp innen sport og friluft du gjør nå

Det har aldri funka helt for meg, å bygge opp en grunnmur av sunn selvtillit. Som tåler at folk sier det de sier bak ryggen din, som jo nesten alltid finner veien til ørene dine likevel, eller som tåler det folk sier rett i fjeset på deg- ord som føles mer som slag, eller at folk trekker seg vekk, forlater, distanserer seg, bare kutter deg ut, de du forventet det av, og de du trodde var genuint glad i deg tross alt, for alle bånd kan brytes med étt rykk. Til og med det jævla båndet jeg prøver å holde så stramt rundt min egen hjerne, herregud det båndet jeg lovet meg selv som 5-åring at jeg aldri skulle slippe- FAEN- det røyk, og nå vet jeg bare at det vil fortsette å ryke hver gang jeg lapper det sammen for jeg KLARTE det ikke pappa, jeg røyk båndet vårt og jeg røyk båndet til min egen hjerne, og noen ganger gjør det vondt som migrene i tinningene at ALT VAR FORGJEVES, og hva faen er egentlig vitsen med noe som helst nå?

Jeg prøver å si at vitsen er at jeg skal vokse, jeg må tørre, jeg må prøve å ransake skjelettet mitt etter noe som ligner en ryggrad, noe å vrenge ut av hjernen min som jeg kan stå for, men er dette meg, disse tankene, disse meningene, disse ordene, er dette mitt..?

Alt jeg sier høyt, alle valg jeg tar, ordene jeg former, livet jeg prøver og feiler og prøver og feiler å stake ut. Blir det noen gang mitt..?

Alt har så høy pris. Jeg blir jævlig fort ukomfortabel av meg selv. Flau. Selvkritisk. Om jeg sier for lite. Om jeg sier for mye. Om jeg gjør ingenting og later som jeg er død i perioder. Hater meg selv for det der. Om jeg gjør ting og faktisk lever, blir jeg bekymret. Er det for mye, bikker det over nå, må jeg holde igjen. Vet jeg hva jeg gjør?? Kan jeg stå for dette noen måneder ned i veien også?

Kan gjøre ting som skremmer meg, og tenke nå var jeg modig. Så går det 5 minutter, og jeg lurer på om jeg bare var dum og tankeløs nå.

Sier at jeg elsker å være kreativ, men det er like mye brennhett hat der. For jeg tror ikke jeg hadde blitt så syk om jeg ikke hadde hatt så mye fantasi, så mye rom i den jævla hjernen min som kan fylles med så mange rare tanker og bilder jeg kan gjøre så virkelige at jeg må tro på det.

Jeg har så behov for at noen skal forstå meg. Jeg har så enormt behov for å forstå meg selv. Men jeg tror aldri jeg blir noe mer enn ett freak show. Og ingen må være vitne til mer av det freak showet enn det jeg må se selv. Og likevel, så klarer jeg ikke å skjerme folk før det blir for mye. For bånd brytes med étt rykk, til hjernen min, til alt, til alle.

Det brenner i tinningene, ryggraden smuldrer bort, jeg vet ikke hva som er mitt for det er ingenting å holde fast i, og er det egentlig vits i noe som helst. For jeg klarer ikke å forstå meg selv, og det er bare meg igjen i verden som fortsatt trenger å gjøre det, herregud jeg er en idiot, det er jo ikke vits– Men det er bare dette jævla båndet til hjernen igjen, det som har røket mest, det er bare det igjen å klamre fast i, så jeg gjør det. Selv om jeg vet at det bare vil smelle rett i trynet mitt igjen.

Unnskyld til alle, og kanskje mest av alt til 5 år gamle meg. For at jeg røyk, og at jeg fortsetter å ryke det viktigste båndet jeg har. Den jævla hjernen min, den er jo ikke min lenger, og hva har jeg egentlig igjen nå, annet enn brutte bånd.

Freak show.

Dip into me just one more time

So I can grip around you and never let go

I think I’ll always want you the most

And something tells me that you know

Fuck my life, I wish I could forget

All these men you made me regret

There’s only one that’ll do now

And something tells me you know

That smile, I just want to wipe it from your face

Fuck you smiling for

Everytime I walk out that door

It’s mostly you that I come here for

These thoughts, the memories, I just can’t ignore

If I had a thousand nights with you

I would still be starving for more

God, there’s nothing left to fight for is there

I don’t even belong in your atmosphere

And ever since we met

You’ve lived rent-free in my head

I won’t find peace until I’m dead

Guess it’s just my luck to turn into a ghost

Watching you from the afterlife instead

Someone, please send help

I’m not making any sense

I feel way too intense

The cost of this obsession is immense

And something tells me it might all be nonsense

Still, can’t get you off my mind

If I’m honest, I ain’t even trying

Told ya I was over it, guess I was lying

Fuck you laughing ‘bout

All the times I go crazy and scream and shout

Raging maniac, but still it’s you I want to ravage the most

Of all the beasts I’ve known, I miss my savage the most

God, you are so evil and beautiful, it drives me mad

I’m just evil and ugly and all the way bad

Still, the times we had..

God, it lives rent-free in my mind, and this desire makes me go deaf and blind

Is there even other people in this world..?

Dip into me, just one more time

Just this last time, I don’t just want to picture it in my mind..

I’ll seize you and never let go

I think I’ll always want you the most

(May all the gods made up by man help me)

And something tells me that you know

Of all the beasts I’ve known..

Only the savage one can do me so

You’re the only one that makes me wish we were two

My hands are pro, but they can’t do the things you do

And no matter what, I can’t forget you

Something tells me that you know I’d hold my breath until I’m blue

And I am, ‘cuz it’s long overdue

Something tells me that you know..

The only one I truly want, is you

Det ringte på døra mi tidligere i kveld, og jeg bare «Faen! Hva gjør jeg nå??», for jeg fikk en idé om å gjøre en glam skull-makeup (Google det for bedre resultater enn det jeg fikk, heh) til mitt forrige innlegg, og så altså sånn her ut… 🤡

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Hoka på salg: Kupp årets modeller til nedsatt pris

Jeg har jo bipolar- og det står faktisk noe om det å sminke seg drastisk i kriseplanen min- så jeg turte ikke å åpne døra sånn 😅 Ikke ble det sånn jeg ville heller, så denne looken hadde IKKE vært verdt en tvangsinnleggelse..

Det er litt kjipt da, jeg føler av og til at jeg må holde litt igjen på det kreative så folk ikke skal bli unødvendig bekymra.. Og i det siste har jeg vel bare gitt litt faen også, og skrevet og sminka som jeg vil- men jeg lurer jo alltid på om folk skjønner at dette bare er for gøy, eller om alle bare tenker «Å ja, nå har hun klikka igjen».

Tingen er vel at det kreative gjør livet verdt å leve for meg, og det siste halve året har jeg virkelig blitt bevisst på hvor glad det gjør meg. Tidligere har det handlet mer om å overleve, å kunne pøse ut det vonde i ord, for å prøve å tømme det fra hodet. Jeg har alltid tenkt at hvis jeg klarer å ha der mest bra, så vil jeg ikke klare å være kreativ lenger- og det er så GØY å erfare at det ikke stemmer. At den delen av meg ikke dør fordi jeg ikke lider 24/7 lenger. At jeg får ta det med meg videre. At det faktisk er en del av meg, jeg føler jeg eier det så mye mer enn jeg gjorde før, når det var livbøya mi. Nå er det først og fremst leketøyet mitt.

Jeg fikk beskjed av en skjønn sykepleier på DPS at jeg måtte gjøre mer av det som gjør meg glad, og da følte jeg at noen ga meg lov til å ha denne lidenskapen. Og jeg trengte å høre det, tror jeg.

Det er så mange som synes jeg er teit, at det jeg liker er teit, og jeg har alltid følt at min måte å uttrykke meg kreativt ikke er bra nok eller riktig nok, men nå har jeg landet på at hva andre synes om meg ikke spiller noen rolle, det viktigste er hvordan JEG har det med meg selv, for alle andre kan jo velge meg bort- men det kan ikke jeg. Det er så jævla viktig å trives i eget selskap, det er så viktig å ha noe som gjør deg tilfreds og fornøyd, og så lenge jeg kan være kreativ sånn som det faller seg naturlig for meg, så er jeg det. Jeg vil jo klare mer, jeg vil jo oppnå noe mer, men veldig lenge så var det nesten uutholdelig å leve med meg selv.. Og det er det ikke lenger, fordi jeg gir meg selv tillatelse til å.. Jeg tror det riktige ordet blir å LEKE. For jeg føler jo at ved å gjøre disse tingene slipper jeg fri den modige ungen jeg egentlig var, og jeg tror kanskje det kan hjelpe meg til å bli mer modig generelt i livet. Når jeg slipper ut disse sidene av meg, så lærer jeg jo også mye om hvem jeg er.

Bla bla bla.. Jeg har vel fått fram poenget mitt for lenge siden 😅 Men jeg heier altså så jævlig på at vi alle bare kan få være sånn som vi er, bare det ikke skader noen. Og helt ærlig, så tror jeg det har vært en velsignelse for meg at jeg aldri har vært verken kul eller populær, for det har gjort det lettere for meg å bare følge min egen vei. At folk slenger dritt om meg nå er liksom sånn.. Ja, ja- sånn har det jo alltid vært 🤷‍♀️ Jeg blir nok aldri RETT for alle andre, men heller det enn å være feil for meg selv.

Så please, hvis du også er en «raring»- Stay weird with me 🤗

Ha en god uke 🌹

They all say I gotta let go

But there never was much to hold on to

Of all the suicidal missions I’ve embarked on

I guess the grand finale was you

Fuck my head

I fucked you in my head again

You probably forgot all about me by now

How I taste, how I sound, even my name

I should know better than to walk down this bloody road

But it’s the only way I know, somehow

Wish you could go back to being a stranger

Everything about you screams ‘DANGER’

But nothing feels like you do, like medicine, like heroin

Nothing and no one gives me such a rush of adrenaline

And the world without you grows so grey and dim

But keeping you alive in my mind and in my dreams- it’s peccatum mortale- The deadliest of sin

They locked me up once, I took a lighter and tried to burn away my flesh

It always felt like my skin was too thin, ‘cause all my wounds are open and fresh

You know this, you know I scar easily

So please explain how you thought I’d cope with this treachery

I can only hope that one day I’ll have bled dry

And I can only hope my mind will find closure

’Cuz you’ll never provide me with a ‘why’

Wish you could go back to being a stranger

When I’m around you, I’m in danger

But nothing feels like you do, like medicine, like heroin

Nothing and no one gives me such a rush of adrenaline

Shark-infested waters, that’s where I seem to swim

But keeping you alive in my mind and in my dreams- it’s peccatum mortale- The deadliest of sin

Guess this blog now has its own theme-song.. 😅

Annonsørinnhold

Hoka på salg: Kupp årets modeller til nedsatt pris

Enola, it’s the name of the plane

Dropping the first atomic bomb

Enola, Enola-

To me, it’s my reality

I think it might just be my destiny

No cheerleaders, no hypequeens

Only myself to stitch myself back together

Fix all my loose seams

Enola, Enola

Read it backwards, it makes sense then

I can dress up and do my makeup like Barbie

But I can do without a ‘Ken’

No plans, no goals

I tried and failed at all my roles

Damn, should have arrived somewhere by now I guess

But all my efforts somehow just end up making a bigger mess

And now I say goodbye to lovers, goodbye to old friends

Too much shit went down, now me can’t make amends

With me there’s not much of new beginnings, I’m more familiar with stuff that has bitter ends

Enola, Enola

Read it backwards, it makes sense then

I always fuck up, it’s just a matter of when

Enola, Enola

Read it backwards, it makes sense then

No cheerleaders, no hypequeens

Just me to stitch myself together

Fix all my loose seams

And now I got no choice

but to start over again