agnes obel

18 months. 540 days. 32,400 minutes. 1,944,000 seconds. created from debris. only with the leftovers. the rebounds. the side we see is bright, white. but the surface is dark, with only a reflectance to make her pretty. showing the same face,  never changing.  when it kisses the light, only then do we get a glimpse, only every 18 months. 540 days. 32,400 minutes. 1,944,000...

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this year has been the hardest, the suckiest. fine is the suckiest word, its the opposite of here. here is the only place left on the map, where you feel safe. you can feel your past, so present so present that you can feel your baby teeth, and you can feel the air just above the ground because your feet can't touch the...

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one. your dad's gonna be there when no one else is. two. do not fear to lose what needs to be lost. three. you can't be fixed by the same person who broke you.  four. letting people in is a good thing.  five. broken hearts still beat. six. broken crayons still color.  seven. go for it. whether it ends good or bad, it was...

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i open my palm and my lifelines look like branches from an aspen tree, and there are songbirds perched on the tips of my fingers, and i wonder if beethoven held his breath the first time his fingers touched the keys the same way a soldier holds his breath the first time his finger clicks the trigger. we all have different reasons for...

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why are we always waiting for the big changes? why do we hang on to the blacks? the whites? why not get excited about the greys. get excited about the little things. the small details. get excited about the new outfit you're gonna wear for the first time, the thursday fourth period roxberry runs, when you get to the last page, the penny you find...

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i miss it.  i miss not caring. but i don't have to care. sure, yeah, it's easier as a child. it's easier to fall and scrape your knee, get food all over your face, color outside of the lines, when you're a kid. easier to imagine yourself as the next batman, or a firefighter, or an astronaut.  easier not to care what you get on...

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when i see hats, i see bardering. bardering for tourist hats on the side of the road, they're all the same. just different colors. when i see different colors, i see rainbows. trails in the sky for the lucky ones. but only for the lucky ones. when i think lucky, i think march seventeenth.   when i see march seventeenth i see green, and green...

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those teachers will never teach you about heartbreak. they won't teach you how to earn money,  they won't prepare you to move out.  you'll have to figure it out by yourself.  they won't teach you how to be patient, with the girl that spreads rumors. they won't tell you how to gain the confidence, to talk to the kid by himself.  you'll have...

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