At heart I might be as mystic as a lone wolf. Twilight time is the most beautiful time for me. Shadows are my domain. I have always been an incurable romantic and will never stop. I write a lot of poems and stories, sometimes I scribble down thoughts on napkins before I lose them.

I was brought up with children’s books like Peppi Longstockings by Astrid Lindgren, The Moomins by Tove Jansson and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl. As an adolescent I loved to read the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams and I have always been a great fan of Scifi books by Arthur C. Clarke, like Rendevouz with Rama amongst many others.

I also read poetry time to time. One of my fauvorite poems is “The Hedgehog” by Nils Ferlin. Here is a stylized short story that I wrote back at school:


My name is Amanda. When I woke up I was alone. Everything was dark. I only heard the rain whisper behind the windows of this jail my parents locked me inside. I put on a lamp. I crawled up from bed and walked to the bathroom. I went in front of the mirror and stared myself into my own eyes. My eyes looked tired. My face was pale and my cheeks were warm and red. I smiled. Then I opened the window and climbed out on the ledge. The rain drops tickled my skin. I hesitated, but looking around everything seemed so unnecessary. Even the traffic lights were grey. Like a white dove I spread my wings and jumped out…. I had finally woken up.

Here are a couple of my poems:

“The last battle”

The hard radge of the motorsaws,
woke up the small wolf,
into a sight so devastating.
The screams of the wolf’s
old friends echoed through the land.

By the touch of these
money-greedy machines
the ancient protectors of life
fell dead to the ground.
The humans stole the soul
of the great forest,
they are killing this land.

The small inhabitants of
the forest feel the dreadful
pain of mother-earth.
No more feeling scared,
away on the run their way leads
towards some distant salvation.

As darkness falls
the cold rushes away
even the last dwellers.
Now the wolf is totally alone
as the wind whistles over
the dead land.

The wolf diggs for shelter,
but the pain of desparation
time after time makes his trials fail.
Into the small start of a hole
the tired wolf laid down,
and slept away…

Some time after, a new day dawned,
as the morning sun rised,
in the same spot a little
twig of hope was born,
a flower called the simbelmyra.
It gives hope through
this baron forsaken land.

“The Distant Country”

There is a far away land,
a personal X-anadu,
where you in your dreams
each night can return.
To get to this secret kingdom
that has no other alike
you have to climb through
your soul’s greatest fear
because this wonderful
land, you will only find deep
in the depths of your own heart