I don’t know who you are any more.
I don’t want to be become what I’m not to you.
She waits for the dream to arrive and the nightmare to end.
I didn’t want to be a Vimmynicatijk.
I don’t want to be labeled like that.
I am not a Viking. I am not a man. I am not a Norwegian. I am Scandinavian, but we are not the same.
Nights are nights for a reason.
Days are slow, descends into night.
The day is not mine for giving.