(play and then read, yeah?)

i want to be as unapologetically me as possible. i want to be the me that i am in my head. i just want to say what i think without that tremble in my voice, without that flicker. i want to wear a leather jacket and have dyed hair and not say sorry a single time in the whole goddamned day. i want to look at a guy without thinking that he’d never be interested in me anyways. i want to wear clothes that cling without worrying about which rolls are showing where. i want to make that one mistake that’d be awful but such a good story in the end. i want to ask what the fuck are you looking at and have the evening end with me having punched someone in the throat. i want to make out with strangers and get tattoos just because i feel like it in that particular moment. i want to flirt in languages i don’t speak. i want to walk in that certain way without thinking about it, saunter. i want to do things that make me question who i am, shake my foundation. i want to scream, and laugh into the dead of night. i want people to hate me, and i want people to love me. i want to knock them down.  i want to blow them away. i have a cyclone within me, but i want to be in the eye.


watch me unravel

life is a little bit harder, but so are you. you walk with your arms stretched out, and your eyes are boiled sweets, crystalline and dense. the word “can” repeats again and again, wrapping around your brain. nothing makes sense except for you, so you make sure to touch as many things as possible. disturb. unpick. and with the threads in your hand, you walk away.

… i’ve come undone

psyche, psyche, psyche…

something sinister to it, pendulum swinging slow. a degenerate moving through the city with criminal stealth, welcome to enemy turf. harder than immigrants work, golf is stitched into my shirt. get up off the pavement, brush the dirt up off my psyche, psyche, psyche.

it’s probably been twelve years since my father left, left me fatherless. and i just used to say i hate him in dishonest jest, when honestly i miss this, like when i was six. and every time i got the chance to say it, i would swallow it. sixteen, i’m hollow, intolerant, skipped shots. i storm that whole bottle, i’ll show you a role model. i’m drunk, pissy, pissing on somebody front lawn, trying to figure out how and when the fuck i missed moderate. momma often was offering peace offerings. think, wheeze cough, scoffing and he’s off again. searching for a big brother, tyler was that. plus he liked how i rap, the blunted mice in the trap. too black for the white kids and too white for the blacks. from honor roll to to cracking locks up off them bicycle racks. i’m indecisive, i’m scatterbrained and i’m frightened, it’s evident. and them eyes where he hiding all them icicles at.

something sinister to it, pendulum swinging slow. a degenerate moving through the city with criminal stealth, welcome to enemy turf. harder than immigrants work, golf is stitched into my shirt. get up off the pavement, brush the dirt up off my psyche, psyche, psyche.

time lapse, bars rhymin’, heart’s bottomless pit. was mobbin’ deep as 96 havoc and prodigy did. we were the potty-mouth posse, crash the party and dip. with all belongings, then toss em out to the audience. nothing was fucking awesome, trying to make it from the bottom. this is feeling as hard as vince carter’s knee cartilage is. supreme garment and weed gardeners, garnishing spliffs with keef particles and entering apartments with ‘zine article. tolerance through boundaries, i know you happy now. craven and these complex, fuck done track me down just to be the guys that did it, like i like attention. not the type where trying to get a raise at my expense. supposed to be grateful, right, like thanks so much, you made my life harder. and the ties between my mom and i are strained and tightened, even more than they were before all of this shit. been back a week and i already feel like calling it quits.

something sinister to it, pendulum swinging slow. a degenerate moving through the city with criminal stealth, welcome to enemy turf. harder than immigrants work, golf is stitched into my shirt. get up off the pavement, brush the dirt up off my psyche, psyche, psyche…

march 9


sunday was earl sweatshirt and i was worn as fuck when i woke up. i quickly shook that off, thanking the stars that i hadn’t drunk much the night before. hangovers are not as easy to shake. so the day really began come evening, when kiki came over. that’s when i broke out the beer, and she broke out the tequila. i soon followed her lead, and she followed mine a little bit at the end. tequila is shady as fuck, okay. it doesn’t sit bad in the stomach, but it definitely doesn’t sit good. it’s just weird. i think i called it devil’s sweat at some point, and i stand by that statement. almost-two beers and apparently one shot for me, the rest of that second beer and apparently one shot for kiki, and we were both beginning to feel that familiar warm fuzziness. buzzed. and to the subway we went.

one train ride later, we began to walk towards our destination. i am (probably too) proud to say that i managed to remember the way to the club, despite 1. having been there only once. 2. having the worst sense of direction in the history of anything ever. so we reached our destination and got in line. when scoping the scene, we realized that nope there are no hot males and jesus why is everyone so white? fucking hipsters. on a positive note, we only saw about a handful of “swag” people. now that i think of it, there were a lot of skater dudes (white tee, long hair, chucks) there too, which is fine i guess. so we hung out and i think that this is where i started getting pumped. before, i’d been like, oh whatever it’ll be cool we’ll listen to some good music and just chill…

but then we got in, and checked in our jackets and joined the crowd… and there were a fuckton of people in front of us, and they were pretty much all dudes. there was some really good music playing, and kiki and i were dancing, getting hyped, and people were just like bobbing their heads and feeling cool… and i just felt a little aggro. not angry, not at all, but like hah fuck you i’m going to stand in front of all of you, no way in hell am i going to stand behind you. so when taco came out, and then earl himself, shit got real. we just pushed, and jumped, and pushed some more. and slowly but surely, we managed to get up to the front, to the point where we had circa three people in front of us. and we were just thrashing around with the dudes, giving as much bruises as we got. it was sweaty and gross and pretty great.

bottles were being smashed and everything was sticky. one dude said to another that the shards of glass was making it hard to mosh, “everyone’s wearing chucks heh.” yeah okay. a+ moment was when earl said this is for the girls, or ladies, or whatever, and he sounded a little sarcastic, but then sunday came on and that’s my favorite song and i was just like yesssss this songggg. a+ moment was when earl and taco fucked with each other because aw they seem like such bros. a+ moment was that i managed to get up to the very front when they were doing the “let’s touch hands with the crowd” thing and have both of them take mine. it was like solid proof that yep, we’re at the front. mission accomplished.

after the concert, kiki and i went to a 7-eleven and bought some water and a cold hot chocolate that’s called basically idiot in swedish. i hadn’t had that shit in years, but it’s just delicious as i remember. kiki got a hot dog and then we went back downtown, home to the ghetto. i was pretty spent, and by this point, my soaked hair had turned into a sweat-crusted half-fro. so one shower later, i was ready to turn myself in (after skyping with kiki for about two hours). all in all, a great time. these days, going out means taking over the night, and i’m so ready to do it again and again and again and again. i want to conquer everything.

march 8


saturday was international women’s day (females, congrats, you’re the fucking best), so after work, i got dressed up and headed uptown. a latte and some roaming later, bff and i met up with some other friends to go to the demonstration/manifestation/thing for women’s rights in society. it wasn’t very organized, but the atmosphere was really great. actually, the atmosphere could be felt on the streets the whole night, a lot of celebratory young people. after hanging at the demo, a few of us went to this club/venue to try to score some last-minute tickets for a huge feminist party that was going to take place later that night. we’d been a bit too casual, thinking that you’d probably be able to buy tickets at the door, while everyone else had been on that shit like a month before. luckily, we weren’t the only ones thinking like that. former classmate a and his girlfriend h had tickets, but not their friends e and e2 (romantically involved).

a went kind of awol after graduation, so we hadn’t hung out with him much at all before these past couple of weeks. he’d just gotten together with h, and isn’t really good at balancing relationships in general. so the people from that whole high school gang that bff and i actually had been hanging out with a bit after graduation were mainly ag and jo, and also ag’s ex v. but then a randomly texted me and bff a couple of weeks ago, asking if we wanted to come to the housewarming party he was throwing with h and e, because they’d scored this penthouse (rich people) that they had until the summer. so bff and i had been like sweet, a party, and gone knowing basically one person that was going to be there. while there, we got to hang out with a’s gang a bit and all hit it off really well and it was funny cause we’d all gone to high school together but interaction was unfathomable back then because of high school reasons.

um yeah, like i said, we left ag and jo at the demo with another friend, to try to score last-minute tickets. we didn’t succeed… or, well, we could have, but the deal was basically that if you went in (at 7 pm) you’d have to stay the entire evening, ’cause if you went out, you wouldn’t be let back in. this was going to keep going until 3 am and we hadn’t had dinner so we said fuck that shit and decided that we’d wing it and come back later. so the guys were like yo let’s get pizza and chill at our place for a bit. i called jo and she said that they were going to stay at the demo a bit more, and join us later (which they didn’t, because they wanted to grab a quick bite and go to the party early).

so we went and bought some pizza, a couple of (gross) beers (the liquor store was closed, no good stuff) and some cranberry juice. at the apartment, we ate and chatted, and thinking about it now, i’m a little baffled over how not-awkward it all was. after dinner, we made cosmos (cranberry juice – explained). but whoa whoa whoa, i totally forgot to mention: at the demo, while standing with ag and jo (before meeting a and co), i’d been like: “hmm, i have a feeling that i’ll drink something pink tonight…. like a cosmo or something. for women.” a couple of hours later, voilà – and no, it wasn’t my idea. i hadn’t mentioned anything. it was great though.

after hanging around a bit more, we went back to the club to see if we could get in but surprise, the bouncer said nó. so we walked like three steps to burger king to meet a couple of more of a and co’s friends that we’d met before, at the party, they’d just scored tickets off someone and were trying to stash a bottle of rum so that it wouldn’t get confiscated at the door. after the girl managed to stuff the bottle down her bra, she and her boyfriend headed off together with a and h, who’d had some complications with their tickets before. those two have a wonderful dynamic that plays out in everything they do together. so a forgets to print out their tickets, and h gets pissed off. a says that it’s fine even if they don’t get in, and h freaks out. really, calm down h, you’re gonna get in, but i’d totally be freaking out too. and a, you’re right, how big of a deal is it if you don’t get in, but still, put your back into it. it all worked out.

left at burger king were e, e2, bff and i. e2 had some friend “spinning records” at a bar down the street, so he said that he’ll hang out there for a bit and see you later. now, the rest of us had a few options. we had our names written on lists for two other parties, so we could go to one of those, or just really try to get in. we decided that we’d ask again, just because we could – quoth the bouncer, “nein”. we were about to move on… when a bunch of raging feminists came storming the square with torches. cool, we said and stopped moving. leading the way were women without shirts on and oh, femen, we said. not so cool. there was some angry shouting and i responded to the anger (inwardly) because it was nice to remember that fuck there are still a lot of things to be angry over. people gathered around to look, and a couple of the women shoved at the men and said no this is not for you, fuck off. the kinda neat part was that the police were helping them get the men away… the not so neat part was that the protesters were throwing torches in the direction of the police (i mean, i get it, but not right now?).

once that was done, the three of us were ready to move on again… but then we had a nice idea. we figured we might have been able to get into the club using the entrance next to it, in the same building. so we snuck in there and started running through the different corridors, up and down the stairs. we tried every door, every code (even googled), but nothing. two girls came out of some door (kinda weird) and tried to help us, but nothing. we even called a, and then ag, who were inside, and asked if they could sneak around and open the door from inside (they couldn’t). eventually, we felt that okay let’s do something else now. so we went to get a beer nearby… but were stopped by v, who’d come to try to get into the party as well. he asked the bouncer and the bouncer said fucking no, so we all finally left the scene. we asked if v wanted to go to the other party with us, but he said he’d hang out with some of his bros at another bar instead. he seemed pretty low in general.

e, bff and i scurried off to carmen, a bar in a basement with no phone reception. there, we chugged a beer… some of us, two (e). then we were like alright we should probably actually get to that party… so we got on the train, and rode all the way up to the other end of the red line. some jumping around and instruction navigating later, we arrived at the party… where there was a line. okay, we said and stood at the back of the line. no we didn’t, we slowly but surely managed to cut our way to the almost-front (don’t judge, use and abuse). we still had to wait a while though. so we stood in the cold, outside of a warehouse, cursing and screaming at the glass wall whenever a group of guys were let in because fuck this isn’t your day, while a bad quality version of destiny’s child blared out of someone’s phone.

eventually, we got in, and it was really warm. and really sweaty. there were small rooms, with white cubes inside, that smelled like sex and there was a silver couch with two girls on it that probably also smelled like sex. there were two dance floors and the music was so good. so we fucked around until about 3, and then we felt pretty happy with our night. so we danced to the bus, and then to the subway, and then we had to wait for the train for like 30 minutes (what else is new). we just talked while waiting, and e was saying how much she liked hanging out with us. this is where i realized that bff and i had been hanging out with this girl, that we’d never had a real conversation with before, for an entire night. they’ve all turned out to be such genuinely cool people. and i mean, just the whole thing. i’m just looking at the universe, like what? if i told high school me that see those people by the lockers over there? yeah you’re gonna hang with them, i’d be like yeah okay you’re on crack. it’s just weird. but it’s nice. i just never expected that kind of thing. i’m glad that life manages to throw me really cool surprises every now and again.

lägg dig bara ner/just lay down


du gör allt det där du gör, för bra för att bli nekad i dörren när du stör. 
jag är körd när vi nuddas, det brister för mig. gränser som suddas, jag är klistrad vid dig. 
för jag kan inte sluta vilja ha det där du sa vi skulle va, som aldrig blev av. 
okej att planen övergavs – men varför ringer du mig?

julia spada


p é n é t r a t i o n

p é n é t r a t i o n, by sergey neamoscou

a friday night and a dingy bar. inside, middle-aged people attempt to salsa, awkwardly jutting their hips with eyes unfocused. music that isn’t salsa is playing and the floors are sticky with spilled inhibitions. outside, three people stand without jackets, two females and one male, cowering away from the rain; huddled together, hunched into themselves. cigarettes hang between their lips, two burning and one unlit. the lights drift through the window behind them, casting auras around contours. the man asks the bouncer for the lighter and holds out his hand; black polish shiny and chipped.

“oh, this is one of those fancy ones.”

“a zippo”, one of the women mutters, painted lips moving rapidly.

“yeah, you just have to flick it open and it’ll burn for you.”

the other woman looks up, stormy eyes piercing the others’. “it’s very convenient.”, she states.

“it was really expensive, so be careful.”

“yeah yeah, of course.”

the sound of metal hitting concrete is harsh, unforgiving.

the woman throws her head back and laughs, mouth framed by red. the sound bounces off the buildings, walls bricked and windows dark. the three finish their cigarettes, speak about thin air. the other woman has her eyes shut the entire time, tides low in a stilled sea. each drag is a prayer, puffs of absolution coming out a gauzy grey. when they’ve stubbed themselves out, they stand for a moment, linger in silence. then they say thanks again for the light, and head back inside. the air is damp and cold. the drops have stopped falling.