Nobody is perfect but I'm pretty fucking close.
Jag är en tjej på 28 år som bor i Alingsås tillsammans med min sambo Tommy, vår dotter Vanja och vår son Lukas. Vanja föddes 27:e maj, 2007 och Lukas såg dagens ljus för första gången den 21:e januari 2009.
I min "blogg" så skriver jag om lite allt möjligt från Vanjas framsteg och den nya medlemmen i familjen, Lukas, till aktuella händelser i världen, om jag så känner för det. Oftast handlar det dock om vardagslivet och reflektioner från min sida.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
O captain! My captain! Our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the stead keel, the vessel grim and daring.
But o heart! Heart! Heart!
O the bleeding drops of red!
Where on the deck my captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O captain! My captain! Rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up! for you the flag is flung, for you the bugle trills:
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths, for you the shores a-crowding:
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning.
O captain! Dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck
You've fallen cold and dead.
My captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will.
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done:
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won!
Exult, o shores! and ring, o bells!
But I, with silent tread,
Walk the spot my captain lies
Fallen cold and dead.
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