i feel like i'm fighting
the worst version of myself
in-between these four walls
i have just begun to call my home
how an awfully stubborn
unbendable point of view
with the tiniest glimpse of hope
lost in a pile of desperation
where nobody listens
but everything said
is wrong, harmful, stupid
for once, my pattern
of packing up and moving away
to the other side of the valley
the current town, or Sweden
wouldn't give me much
i'd still be there
the amount of space is decreasing
with every windmill put up
next to the elephant
in this dusty room
published on
the 29th of February 2026
that's right, never
Inspiratsiookean 