#thefirstdayofmylife

I would tell you that I crave the feeling of spilling my guts and heart out to you because I’ve been giving up from the inside & it’s showing on the outside. People tell me I’ve lost my spark. They tell me I’ve gotten quiet, tell me about the exhaustion I wear under my eyes. They laugh when they assume I’m on a diet because I stopped bringing a snack or lunch to work. Family now notices I either don’t sleep for a few days or I sleep for almost 2 days. But no one cares to ask or bother - so why should I have to be the who crawls for aid instead of the people who claim to care not showing me at all? I don’t belong here. I would tell you that my lack of motivation is back to how it was years ago. I’m not going to work, I stopped applying for volunteer work, I stopped working out, and I have delayed my applications for college. I don’t have the ONE person who made anything in my life appear worth it. I lost my driving force, my smile & it’s replaced with the pathetic realization that everything is futile. No more support. No more push to be anyone great.Family is only good to mock your dreams/wishes/goals and hopes. Pain isn’t worth it anymore. Would be nice to be that golden child.  I would tell you that my mom has gotten bad again. I don’t know where her money is going and I’ve had to take care of almost a grand in bills while my dad holds that over my head; how much better his and my sisters life is - I’m going to turn out to be just like my mom . I don’t have anyone to sit with me on the headset and say “It’s okay… Just ignore it. You’re okay.” while she yells into my doorway that I’m an ungrateful piece of shit. So I stare dead into a wall and nod…I wanna scream and I want to tell someone to just take me away for awhile. I’m stuck and I mean it when I say I can’t do this much longer. It’s eating at me EVERY. FUCKING. DAY so much that I’ve broken almost everything, smashed walls in with my hands, feet or even my head. Just to stop fucking thinking for 5 fucking minutes.  I would tell you that I feel as if im going fucking insane and nothing is making sense anymore. I would tell you that I keep having the same fucking dream of you shooting your head in and how I wake up unable to breath, and that I check the last time you ever messaged me so I know it wasn’t actually happening. If I had the balls to, I’d tell you that I’m pretty sure you’re pretending not to know me, that it hurt me when you said everything I’ve done for you was out of “free will” and “just food” - that it still hurts when you talk about other people and I’d prefer if you just didn’t because I’m still dying without you and I still love you the same…. I’d tell you that even though I sent messages saying don’t respond to these voice messages I was still hurt that you didn’t care to help. I’d tell you I sleep with my lights on but with your snoring voice messages on just so I can nod off for a bit. I’d tell you that it kills me when you blatantly ignore something I say in text, but you’ll respond to the lesser of importance like a game we don’t care about because I know you don’t want to deal with it even though that comes in the “Being Friends” package, but in all honesty we aren’t. At least I don’t think so. I think you for some reason feel bad. Maybe you feel down on your self for making that promise to the “stupid moon” and you need to keep it even in the slightest to make yourself feel better - or you REALLY just wanted to play Destiny. I can’t bring up anything. I’m even afraid to ask “How are you?” because I’ll get the same old sugar coated bullshit you probably give everyone else ; the same shit I give everyone else too. Because let’s face it - we now are “everyone else”. You said you “miss” your “friend” but how do you even feel that if you don’t know me…. I’d tell you all that if I didn’t have the fear shit would be thrown back into my face even though I’m just reaching out my hand for once because I need someone to listen and not smearing you in pity or guilt. Why? because I haven’t once cut yet because of that stupid fucking tattoo because in my head and in my eyes you are STILL my sunshine, my best friend, my bear, my king. But our “friendship” has a price and I’m not allowed to be myself again - the broken fucking dorkball who could get a laugh, tear, smile, snort, snore, yell out of you with a single sentance, that one who when your granny was screaming at you, layed with you on the phone and you said “You’re the only person who can calm me down” - because that’s apparently not me. I would tell you I laugh every time you tell me you are a “different” man. When I KNOW YOU GET THAT COLD CRUEL WHEN YOU ARE FUCKING HURT. YOU SHUT OFF. YOU CLOSE UP. YOU TURN YOUR BACK. YOU SAY MEAN SHIT. BUT YOU ARE STILL THAT SENSITIVE NOT “HxC” DUDE UNDER THE MASK YOU WEAR. THE ONE WHO CARES ABOUT EVERYTHING, EVERYONE, AND HAS HIGH AMBITIONS TO DO BETTER - THE GUY WHO CRIED TO DISNEY/PIXAR WITH ME. I can list so much more but I don’t know you….. I’d tell you that I’m scared to go on my little trip alone. Anxiety ridden because of all of the above. Worried that something will happen - thinking of the “what if’s” almost all day. Detroit at 7pm? no thanks. Jumping from bus to bus? nu uh. I would tell you that I’m scared and being utterly alone doesn’t help in every aspect in which I feel it. I’m broke, losing my job, my home, my mind, my spirit, motivation and honestly my sanity. I would tell you that I miss you. I miss my best friend. I love that guy I use to know. I still need him. But as you said, hopefully someone comes around and gives me all this back. Helps me. Dusts off my bum and knees and helps me walk. Ya know every time I’m asked about what my new Fox & The Hound tattoos mean I’m laughed at and told “that doesn’t exist anymore!” - but I know it does, just no one wants to BE it…just wanna find it. I had it with you though. But I do agree I’ll never find it again, and if I do it still won’t fill that other half of me, or give new meaning to my tattoos; It’ll just make it blurry and hurt a little less. I’m giving up and I can’t do this on my own. I just want it to stop. I think about how much greener it is on the other side; where the lights are back to being turned “Off” and I can rest.

My mind is going a mile a minute nonstop everyday and I don’t know what to do anymore and I don’t know how to fix it. I’ve tried being positive and I can’t. I. Cannot. Do. This - anything. Referring to dealing with you in my head and my everyday life. I can’t do it. My shoulders are feeling too heavy, my chest rises so fucking slow and my anxiety is going to put me in an asthma attack sooner or later. This will kill me.

After a death

We had 30 min to come up with the idea, film and edit the movie... This time we challenged ourself by doing everything barefeeted! By and with Robin T Sverd, Sara Fargam, Mattias Edström, Anne Sofie Steen Sverdrup, Ann-Sofia Svejstrup Højsleth, Yannick Porter, Martin Dyrman Hansen, Nicolás Arroyo.