I saw in a movie, surrounded by friends, that Cellardoor was, according to english gentlemen, the most beautiful of words. I don´t know if such conclusions are possible to be made, but I must admit that the sheer sound of the word is indeed pretty, and thus i felt, that it would only be fitting to name this little collection of life, after the opinions of english gentlemen. What you, whoever you might be, might be interested in reading (Of course until you get bored by a certain lack of coherency, and meaning), is my life. It is not a diary as such, but more of a taste of my mind. My feelings, my experiences. All neatly packed in bundles of metaphors and lack of regard for any readers understanding. I hope however that you might find some enjoyment, in my life.

Yours truly


1. The end of present pasts

Why do I stay, pushing away the inevitable?

Why do I wait? Keeping in line

Why do I not face the truth as it is?

Why do I just let the past be the present and the present not now?

How can it be that I should wait?

And that soon a new life should unfold.

How could it be that I am just laying, on a bed naught feeling slight cold?

Why are we waiting, for the end of our tale?

Why are we waiting for the end of our time?

Why shouldn’t we live, and dance in joy,

To enjoy the time we have and celebrate that which we had

That should be what we do.

To live in good company, and sing and dance,

To feel the slight sadness, and the cries of the past.

These our dreams should be ours to share.

These our dreams should be ours to bear.

I feel how my world is coming to end

But I keep forgetting, intentionally

That this, our time ends inevitably.

And soon

But six weeks

It is over,

And this wonderful so-called epitome of life is gone.

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