Broken English

I've been reading a lot of international blogs, mostly Swedish, through Google Translate. There's something charming about the imperfect translation that keeps me hooked.

"When I stand here alone in the dark in front of the open window with my fingers against the window, brass and feel the damp cold play it anyway does not matter. The slight scent of almträden in the street below is genuine. My fear of what will happen is genuine. For there it is. My fear is the fear of dying. But not to die I would die. Dramatically overthrow through dining room window. Lying with my white bommulsklänning as a cloud of snörök against the glittering black asphalt. Or be in CANDELABRA lights flickering over the off-white bathtub while the dark blood that pulsates from the wounds on my wrists mixed with Rioja wine in the bath water .... "

-Black Ascot