Behind The Glass With Charlotte Eriksson

I’ve written four books about leaving, songs and poems, had an endless romance with starting over, packing light. But have you ever tried returning? Have you tried going back to make things right? Have you ever left a city small and sad, determined to never return but then you’re out there for a few years, roaming the streets, intertwining with people. You make a few rounds, collect some hearts, some wounds, and one day you come to one of those lakes where everything is still and quiet. The clouds are reflecting on the surface and it’s like you see your own thoughts and past and habitual ways in the sky, everywhere, telling you something. This lake can be real or not, either way this is what it feels like. You run and run and run and run and suddenly there’s a still lake reflecting clouds on the surface. You sit down, because lakes like these tell you to do so, and you sit there for a while, tilting your head, seeing your own ways from different angles. Maybe that tragedy wasn’t so tragic after all? Maybe t