onsdag, mars 09, 2022

Self-destruction (edit):

edit* from period to period problems to eat if you dont enjoy life for fill...

First time i really heard of suicide thoughts was before it all takes and took places in this novel... she asked me whispering If I ever had or has? i did not answer. I turned my cheek away. cause i did not want my parents hear this discussion. I did not like it, but at the same time curious...  realised... so it was with her and how treated she were. she showed me her family album and a bit of her life... 


One of our last talking

she was absolutely sure that I will find LOVE and versus. But she could never live and stand with someone which decides things over her. She was decided that i could handle love and life!

She turned away her cheek and Didnot wanna talk more... Cause we were to the bones- she didnt were quiet. 


she couldnt handle life... and none where.She was loved by her mom and bro's and versus.


Some deeper thoughts and other words and families I dont hang out... were are more but not necessary.


https://harrietvonbromssen.blogspot.com/2022/03/landscape-of-springfever.html


 

 

landscape of springfever:

 INTRODUCTION with FOREWORD

"As out of a mist in this night-black dark season, oh you, disappeared; then there, as you

once came into my life.


The first time I saw you, a glimpse into your soul, reflected more than empty words

and stupid phrases than where the jokers play their waltzes and their fake game.


Like one of those New Year's Eve crackles with his squirt and howl, you just came in

there in my heart and close it with your warm rinsing effervescent closeness "


MUSIC: Elton John
MOVIES: King kong & Dirty Dancing
INTRESTS: Piano, english  & fashion
LEGENDS:  James Dean & Marilyn Monroe
PERSONALITY: Crazy & kind
STAR SIGN: Scorpion
NAME-DAY: 12 may - LOTTA
FOODS:  lemon sorbet, roll cake "drömrulle lobsters and meat steak



IN ALL THE DAYS OF THE HEART


"... it's not what you have ... nor how much you have ... nor how much it sits on the polishing surface ... nor how much more knowledge you possess than anyone else .. nor how much more you are than anyone else ... but that it was just YOU ... "

- Harriet Marianne von Brömssen

Flowers versus blisters


... there are flowers and there are blisters; the one considers the other in all situations as on earth ...


DRUNKENBURG (gothenburg GÖTEBORG)

I can still cry for you and I can just as much still laugh at your power vomit on a Valborg and then you were big for me, but now just an ordinary "teenager" and with this result in hand like anyone with faults and shortcomings, but also with so much more under the shell. To first drink almost helplessly to party again at Liseberg and then end up in Gårda inside someone kind of old long block because you did not have the energy or feel good to take a tram and that the clock also became too much and that you could not get home. 
There at Gårda now demolished block that was replaced but which was then an old stairwell up for the first best door and just rang to borrow a phone, but it took a very long time before a man in a bathrobe gently opened and looked out and just then out of nowhere this vomit flew straight out of Mademoiselle Anne and straight at the man's doormat. The man, of course, became furious and swore at Mademoiselle Anne. In all her senses, Mlle Anne rattled right out of nowhere.
It was "Valborg" that with this accompanying drunkenness. 

 A slightly shorter jogging trip


 It actually happened that I could take a jogging trip away by the loop, after my parents moved with me closer to Brunnsbo, more precisely exactly at the border line between Brunnsbo and Backa. The loop was then also quite quite fresh, but still quite run down. 
 My memory usually fails when it comes to years and dates, not like my husband with his male memory for that particular., but you can combine something with each other and sometimes supplement with that part. 
 But one day I put my very last foot on the loop and thus "P" for just around jogging and running. Just this day, for once, I had decided to meet for a jogging trip and Mlle Anne then suddenly appeared and reluctantly joined in when I definitely wanted her with me. That I wanted her with me was because I felt a lot more comfortable with Mlle Anne. I had of course dressed for the jogging, which Mlle Anne had not done, nothing I thought about then. 
This day was probably not Mlle Anne's best either, who at the moment had a rough style for some reason. We lurched towards the loop and met the "Ebenezer" after a while of lulling, she glared a little at Mlle Anne with a gesture that she did not want to take her on the trip and that you can take care of her. I was shocked of course and turned home, while the "Ebenezer" continued her turn, I turned around and could with my bad conscience see that Mlle Anne went calmly home. 
Then we bumped into each other a little later. There was probably nothing that needed to be said more about it all. But at the same time, I understood a little "Ebenezer" acting and still not. My memories revolve mainly around Mlle Anne and now to the matter of "The Ebenezer" and an event before this nonchalance on the jogging trip as a little indication of this: One hot summer day, the "Ebenezer" wanted me to accompany her in a car with some sorts of backwood and chawbacon but ended up in a basement with "Ebenezer", the sort of backwood and chawbacon  maybe other slobbers aound somethere if you ask me for an opinion. But however,  on a bed suddenly lay this so-called "Ebenezer" and looked at me awhile the such sort of slobbers mixed with backwood and chawbacon tried to get this and check for my opinion look - not more than boringness if if I am entitled to any opinion. 
The atmosphere was a bit boring, nothing else for all of us. Afterwards on the way home, the "Ebenezer" asked if I could imagine visiting the slobbers and she explained to me somewhat thoroughly the way there by bus and that we would meet at 08.00 in the morning. When this day appeared, I lay in my bed and slept the deepest and most glorious sleep I could make. The doorbell rang and "Dad" opened it and my "Dad" was a little shocked that she showed up so early in the morning. 

The "Ebenezer" explained that we should have met and my "dad" replied that I was asleep, but came to me and explained the valid knock on the doorbell. I writhed sleepily and said angrily that I refused. Did the "Ebenezer" disappear if it was towards the bus destination "the backwoodsmen" or home? It does not tell the story, but I did not hear more about the shit! Some time after this, the "Ebenezer" appeared without warning with a friend "Fräulein Blundtfundt" and also then I lay in bed quite leached and then it was not so early more than that they could just come in. They wanted something and I muttered asking if they are lesbians ??? The mood did not get high from this and before they both disappeared just like that in a snap, "Fräulein Blundtfundt" said seriously back to me that they both discussed that I am more like Linda Blair in the film "Exorscist" than private. I was both embarrassed, inside blowing and wondering and everything felt awkward there in bed suddenly.

Destination Garzstarez
The doorbell rings and I opened the door a little carefully and right in front of me stands Mlle Anne.
She gropes slowly towards me and wraps herself with soft movements around and at the same time makes a gesture from top to bottom to show that I should look extra closely at her and then says happily and spontaneously: - It is the latest fashion from Paris.
After that sentence, she chuckles with two small sounds in a row that only she could make and sound in her own special way.
And just then my face shone and the choice was just right. Black trousers and to this a white pirate shirt, which hung loosely outside the black bras and a loose belt sitting just below the waist and had cut off her longer blonde hair, she had also done. Very short, but the overall picture exceeded expectations and I liked what I saw just then for this outfit and immediately let her in.

We went straight and got used to my room where we stood and glanced a little lightly at each other slowly before we began to fumble to get some words and sentences about a little of each. The fuzzy conversation ended with Mlle Anne starting to talk about France and whether to go there ...
But then I exclaimed: - Why not just hitchhike to Garzstarez with a time machine?! How much jacks do you have? I have under a hundred...
Mlle Anne counters carefully: - I probably can not scrape together so much.
I say fast without thinking: - Where do we start?
Mlle Anne thinks a little. We decide neck over head a time and day soon with me.
But I wonder cautiously: - Where do we start?
Mlle Anne thinks a bit and answers firmly that we can always take the road about Azkiles ... I just: Ohhhh, dahhhhh...  

When the day falls for our purpose, of course, Mlle Anne shows up as expected and Mlle Anne's attire at the moment; a buttoned beige poplink cap, a thick sweater underneath, jeans and a pair of simple comfortable shoes on the feet. I immediately get hooked on not bothering too much with my appearance and opt for a warming outfit. The season may not have been the best choice to just disappear away in a time machine on. These days was a super day with a little sun and completely windless with cloudy skies. But that night was probably the longest in our lives and it was very icy cold, raw as only a winter night can be that slipped towards its end and prepared for spring.

All we had with us was a pair of a few meager pennies and no packing at all but just the warming upholstery against the body. My attire for this occasion fell on a pair of black soft silk jeans, a thick sweater sweater under a beige buttoned coat with elastic at the waist made of a heavier jeans material and on the feet a pair of comfortable shoes of some kind.


We trudged happily towards Azkiles and time flew away. Strangely enough, it was neither complicated nor far to walk if you just took the shortcut as we did.

Suddenly we were at Azkiles and took a short break there on how to get going and how to get this time machine to start moving forward towards our goal Garzstarez.

 


A short story dedicated to Anne-Charlotte Crisp Turner * November 16, 1965 † January 19, 1988 one bloody cold windless monday eve towards tuesday

The short story is based in the memory from the late seventies towards the early eighties dedicated to Lotta / Mlle Anne.

Written by Harriet Marianne von Brömssen

Official Date: Sunday, February 13, 2011 at 11:13 pm

midjump in midweek wednesday march 9th 2022 by google translator and Harriet Marianne von Brömssen based on a true story


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