A while ago

I remember pale spring mornings with the sun beating my eyes without mercy. I kept them closed. 

I'm always in the wrong season.

Is it possible to sum up this year when what I've really learnt is that everything can change over the course of a day?

I loved those pale spring mornings. In summer, I will remember these bleak Arctic cold days fondly. 

I'm always in the wrong season and there's no better place to be.

Poems I wish I had written, part fifteen

He is more than a hero
he is a god in my eyes—
the man who is allowed
to sit beside you — he

who listens intimately
to the sweet murmur of
your voice, the enticing

laughter that makes my own
heart beat fast. If I meet
you suddenly, I can't

speak — my tongue is broken;
a thin flame runs under
my skin; seeing nothing,

hearing only my own ears
drumming, I drip with sweat;
trembling shakes my body

and I turn paler than
dry grass. At such times
death isn't far from me.

- Sappho

Poems I wish I had written, part fourteen

Waiting
John Burroughs

Serene, I fold my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
I rave no more 'gainst time or fate,
For lo! my own shall come to me.

I stay my haste, I make delays,
For what avails this eager pace?
I stand amid the eternal ways,
And what is mine shall know my face.

Asleep, awake, by night or day,
The friends I seek are seeking me;
No wind can drive my bark astray,
Nor change the tide of destiny.

What matter if I stand alone?
I wait with joy the coming years;
My heart shall reap where it hath sown,
And garner up its fruit of tears.

The waters know their own and draw
The brook that springs in yonder height;
So flows the good with equal law
Unto the soul of pure delight.

The stars come nightly to the sky;
The tidal wave unto the sea;
Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
Can keep my own away from me.

Those two words turned out to be the same

Trust, Middle English truste (“trust, protection”) from Old Norse traust (“confidence, help, protection”), which is now Tröst.

I find tröst in one I trust

Thank you for the protection, confidence and help.

Poems I wish I had written, part thirteen (For Ana)

maggie and milly and molly and may
ee cummings
10

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea

Just words

If I was to go to the willowtree.

My not so secret secrets

When I was but a little girl the women of my family decided to pass on their heritage of things they felt makes it easier to deal with men. Some of these things have served me well over the years, some have well, not worked. I've always been proud of my generosity, so I'm spreading the words of the (slutty, charming, irresistable, manipulative and capitvating) women of my clan.

1) Never come between a man and food.
2) Never come between a man and sports.
3) Never come between a man and his friends.
4) Never come between a man and his mother. (I always included the whole family in this)
5) Never come between a man and sleep.
6) Never come between a man and TV.

That's basically it. I think the point of it was to not seem pushy and needy, but instead there have been times where it made me feel lonely and neglected, so the rules only work to an extent. For the next generation (if there'll be one) I'd like to alter the rules a bit to be the following. To see how they work I'll try them on myself.

1) Show respect, respecting without showing it is pointless.
2) Show understanding, understanding without showing it is pointless.
3) Show love, loving without showing it is pointless.
4) Apply 1-3 both to him and yourself.
5) Expect him to apply 1-3 to you as well.

Their advice is a bit more concrete, but I always felt they implied I should come last, step out of the way and not demand much for myself. Also, I look at the track record for the women who said these things and I can't help but to think that yes, maybe they were on to something, but if the advice was perfect, wouldn't their loves have been the greatest love stories of all times?

♥♥ Happy Birthday, Milo! ♥♥

Instead of sharing how I found you I'll share what you are. My Milo is pure and gentle kindness. The torn wallpaper, the eaten plants, the broken pots, the destroyed belongings are nothing, they can all be replaced. The Fur of Destruction is one of a kind and I'm so grateful I get to play with you, pet you, pick you up and kiss you every day.

I love how you're always in the way, I love how you wake me up by kneading on my shoulders, I love how you meowingly bring me toys, I love how you get so incredibly happy when I come home, I love how you sleep on me, I love how kooky you are, I love how you plop down on my face, I love how many hugs you want, I love how you get ecstatic when you're having treats, I love how you do everything with intensity, you're either hardcore snuggling, hardcore sleeping or hardcore playing. Half of the guests I have come to see you more than they do to see me.

And now you're three. I lovelovelovelovelovelovelovelove the Milo. Happy birthday you goofy cat!

How's this for a Tuesday?

I'm standing on the brink of having the time of my life. It's as if I've always been waiting. I've missed before, but never longed with such intensity.

I second that motion

How this is right now

I keep intending to make a proper post, I start and such, but then, vi kan väl vänta tills imorgon?

Second chances

A quick session with google teaches me that "Instant success" provides me with 8,240,000 results while as "Instant failure" gives me 6,370,000 results. That must by logic mean that instant success is more common that instant failure. Not really. It doesn't give away how many times something else has been tried without the wanted result. Simple example. Ads for any kind of weightloss related item such as drugs, diets or excerise. We're often fed the line of "I had tried every diet, from eating cardboard to drinking gasoline, but with this I have insant results". I wouldn't call it instant if you had tried something similar, but it's the idea of succeeding at something right away that holds a certain lure. The fact that there is an answer out there that will take the worry out, and sometimes even the hard work. But the question remains, can we have success without failing?

Yes, of course we can, but they're not failures until after the fact. Before you start the game you're still winning, it's not until it's over that you have lost. But then you can play again, and maybe that time you will win. For myself I can't say I've done anything that didn't take a few attempts. Sure, I've had success in details, but in the bigger picture I've always failed. I choose not to see them as failures, but only finding a way that didn't work. A trail and error kind of thing. It's how I generally get by. Like the one in a relationship is successful at it, but not counting the amount of exes, they just didn't work out. Simple.

There's really nothing in life that doesn't offer second chances. Only death. You can't change the way you die, because you are after all dead and then you don't have anything to do with life anyway. This also goes with making mistakes, obviously. They're never mistakes until after the fact, when you have to face the consequences (59,400,000 results), the fallout of what you've done. But they're fixable too, everything's fixable. When it comes to people that's only half true, you can't go back in time and start things over, same with job interviews, if you didn't get the job you just didn't get it. Does it mean it's a waste of time to try and risk failure, risk making a mistake? No. Everything you do builds on to who you are, it makes you even greater than you were before. So the bigger mistake would have been to not try at all.

At times it's as easy as deciding between fixing your make up because you smudge the eyeliner, or wash it all off and start over? Depends on the error. Some people you let go of, some jobs you let go of, some ideals you let go of but there'll always be something to fill the void, it can be hard to see, but not impossible. Sometimes you just say "I'm sorry" and mean it, sometimes you work a bit harder to get to where you want to be, sometimes you find that maybe something else suited you better, something else was more convincing and true. When you've been in those situations a couple of times you know what to do. Ha! Making the same so called mistakes over and over is good for you!

Habits change over time with the smallest quakes, it occasionally rumbles and storms when it all falls apart for you to build anew, either way you come out the other side. And if you don't, you're dead, and if you're dead you can't read this, so you know I'm right.

So, to sum it up, you'll always get a second chance in life, one way or the other. Everything will be just fine. I promise. And honestly, has anything ever turned out exactly the way you planned?

(You can only change what you do to yourself and others, you can't change what others have done to you, only make sure it doesn't happen again)

Poems I wish I had written, part twelve

Things
by Lisel Mueller

What happened is, we grew lonely
living among the things,
so we gave the clock a face,
the chair a back,
the table four stout legs
which will never suffer fatigue.

We fitted our shoes with tongues
as smooth as our own
and hung tongues inside bells
so we could listen
to their emotional language,

and because we loved graceful profiles
the pitcher received a lip,
the bottle a long, slender neck.

Even what was beyond us
was recast in our image;
we gave the country a heart,
the storm an eye,
the cave a mouth
so we could pass into safety.

Enjoy the Silence Remix Reinterpreted by Mike Shinoda - Depeche Mode

I kind of like this version better. But not really. Just kind of.

Lines

Occasionally lines flash through my head, ones that aren't very useful for much of anything. I do however collect them in my own bank of things I could say. I suppose it ties in with that I intend to one day have the perfect thing to say for everything I'm faced with or something to build something else on top of. I'll let you sample. Unless they've been honoured with quotationmarks it's a Molly original.

I don't need to quote you for you to know I hang by your every word.

If what you just said was a raspberry I'd eat it all up, even though it was kind of sour.

You're just a lifesupport system but what kind of life you're supporting I do not know.

You fill me better than air does a balloon animal.

Everybody's somebody's leftovers.

I'll just take this pink elephant for a walk.

"Stars should be shared, they are far too big for just one person."

Sometimes you eat the cookie, sometimes the cookie eats you.

The butterflies are laying on his chest like armour.

♥♥ Happy Birthday, Knit! ♥♥

One fall day in 2003 I saw a bunch of kittens jumping around, round bellies and triangular tails, by the outside building. Of course I had to go over there with some food and of course only one kitten was brave (or hungry) enough to come out. He was laying on the paper plate, arms stretched out, growling as he was eating. I couldn't help but pet him, and later on pick him up, just a litte bit to see what it was like... I could feel every bone and he reminded me of a small bird. Later that night he was found again. In the drive way, meaning he crossed the whole yard, wobbling. He couldn't even walk like a real cat yet. I was just going to let him stay in the house over the night, after all he was very tiny and the night could be quite chilly. But when I came down to the drive way he was nowhere to be found! I looked under the cars, checked the grass, and then I looked down by my foot, and there he was. My wonderful little Snowball. My intention really was to let him back outside the next day, but by that time his mother was gone, the other kittens were still there, but he was much smaller than them. Only weighing 125 grams he needed me almost as much as I needed him.

It's been seven years, he's all grown up but he's still my baby Knit. Have a happy birthday you marvellous thing!

Oh em gee

Oh my word, I feel compelled to write a blog full of complaints. I have many. Well, two at least, but that's plenty enough.

1.) That damn blog I keep going to that always annoys me. It annoys me that it annoys me. It annoys me that I go to it in the first place. I can get annoyed by the content, but I even more so by the grammar and spelling. I'm oh so tempted to correct it all and put it as a comment. But I know that the keeper of the blog tracks her visitors so I can't do that. Give me the strength to overlook stupidity. Now, I know I do my fair share of grammatical errors and quite creative spelling at times, but not in my native language. Have you no pride, woman?! Rhetorical question, of course you don't. Part of why I don't like you very much. Am I a snob? I must be.

2.) Dogs. I just don't understand them. I don't understand why people like them. They're seriously smelly. They have to go outside all the time. They make a mess! They need to eat at regular hours or they whine. They jump on stuff. It's the whining I really can't stand. The whining and the smell. Yes, I get the irony, I'm whining about them, and honestly, I could probably stand to take a shower. Difference is I will take a shower whereas dogs don't care. They're fine with being dirty. They're that stupid. Have they no pride?! Rhetorical question, of course they don't. Part of why I don't like them very much. Am I a snob? I must be.

Poems I wish I had written, part eleven

Från en stygg flicka
Karin Boye

Jag hoppas du inte alls har det bra.
Jag hoppas du ligger vaken som jag
och känner dig lustigt glad och rörd
och yr och ängslig och mycket störd.

Och rätt som det är, så får du brått
att lägga dig rätt för att sova gott.
Jag hoppas det dröjer en liten stund...
Jag hoppas du inte får en blund!

(From a bad girl

I hope you're having a rotten time.
I hope you're lying awake like I am,
and feeling strangely glad and stirred
and dizzy and anxious and very disturbed.

and suddenly you'll hurry up
to settle down and sleep like a top.
I hope it takes you longer than you think...
I hope you don't even get a wink!

Translated by David McDuff)

Sometimes

Sometimes it's more about wanting to impress someone than wanting to be impressed by the same.

It’s only wrong when it’s done to you, not by you

I had the pleasure of watching the traffic going by, and I couldn’t help by re-noticing the amount of honking horns. Cars getting honked at for being too slow, or taking a shot at the car going straight wouldn’t make it to the crossing before they turned themselves. Then I thought, my goodness isn’t it self-righteous to get annoyed by that? It’s hardly like you’ve never done it yourself! I suppose we all do it when we drive, those little things we’re not really supposed to do, just because we don’t want to wait, and that other car seems to be slowing down so gogogogo. Occasionally there’s some poutyhead that’ll honk about it, but meh. Also, I noticed that cars tended to speed up only so that the car in the wrong would notice it fully, then of course the sound of that horn. The likelihood of the one in the right having at some point doing exactly the same is pretty high. I know I've been on both sides. But I can guarantee you, I have never honked just because someone wanted out of the street in order to not have to wait for the next green light. So, why is it that something’s only wrong when it’s done to us, not by us?

It’s fine when you don’t call your friends, you’re busy after all, but if your friends don’t call you they’re being selfish. It’s fine when you go on vacation and leave your workload to your co-workers, but you whine when you have to do theirs when they’re away. It’s unfair when the store won’t take your expired coupon, but it serves anyone else right, they should have checked the date better. It’s horrible to have your own heart broken, but breaking someone else’s is just part of life, you didn’t intend to be mean did you? Of course the clerk should stay at work for an extra 10 minutes so that you can get your stuff, but you’re out the door a minute before your shift ends.

In a way I suppose that’s the core of things again, how selfish we are. We want it simple and beneficial. Perhaps we could be as generous as we are selfish and let others get those things we want for ourselves. What does it really matter if you show up a minute later because someone was driving too slowly, or what does it matter if you have to wait ‘til the next day to shop for the things you don’t really need in the first place? Those things with strangers surely even out in the long run. Sometimes you’re the one in the wrong, sometimes you’re the one in the right. Sometimes you’re the one that gets the benefit, sometimes you’re not. Plain and simple.

When it comes to people you know, you just have to make sure you like them enough to give something up for them and allow them the time to be a bit odd and forgive them for their shortcomings. Noone’s perfect, not even you. Again, it’s all in being considerate, not even if our behaviour towards others is flawless can we expect the same in return. Not even if there are proper rules to follow can we expect everyone to follow them. Think of it as a game where your kindness should always have more boxes checked than when you were given the benefit.

So, dear drivers I watched, those who honked, please untwist your knickers and smile, it’ll all come out fine in the end.

Moonchild

I can't provide you with the song, but I can with one of the lines from it. I sing it almost perfectly.

"What becomes of the broken hearted fools who claim that love's departed? But you're no fool." From Moonchild by Timo Räisänen.

It's lovely

Now make a pun out of this. I have the inside scoop, so mine's purrfect.

Poems I wish I had written, part ten

On My Head's Playground
by Joumana Haddad

(Translated by: Issa J. Boullata)

For a long time
I was their spear and its goal
Until the scream of sex
Filled my loneliness.

For a long time
They did not know
When I shone with my early femininity
On the bed of my childhood,
When I learned
To steal my own treasures in order to become rich.
For a long time
They did not know
When my body mellowed with its honey sheen
And found its narrow path.

For a long time
I invented arts and practiced instincts good for me
When I played with them on my head’s playground.
I played the coquette,
I flirted and dallied,
I refrained,
And I yielded.
For a long, long time
They sat in my imagination
And I devoured them
And they did not know.

Things my mother told me

Breakfast is the most important meal.

Well, I kind of suppose it is. But what's more interesting is looking at beginnings. They're fascinating. Is there a way of telling how things will progress by how they start? For instance, if you have more energy and feel better when you go into the day full of muesli and herbal tea does that mean that you will succeed with anything if you have proper preparations? Let me advice you as to what to do. Sit up, stretch your back, put one foot down on the floor at a time. Rinse the glasses before you put them in the dishwasher. Wait by the mailbox. Never run low on gas, you might have to take a long trip. Best is to be prepared. Maybe so. I still like to be suprised. Hunger doesn't suprise me. An occasional urge to devour pleases me in a suprising way.

That's bad for you.
I know, but I love it.

Always listening to music wearing headphones is bad for your hearing.

What came first, the chicken or the egg? At times we find ourselves in situations where the only logical response could possibly be "What the hell?". Go for it! Enjoy it. I promise you didn't get there because you're a little on the deaf side, you got there due to interesting choices and you now have the chance to make the most of it. Doing so with music makes it even better. A bonus is that it drowns out all those things you don't really want to hear, hence the headphones are glued to my head, they always have been. (Amazing that I've heard her say anything at all.)

It's important to be regular.

Not as important as being kind and consistent.

I need you to listen to me now, daughter of mine.

I need you to hear me. We all have a need to be heard. You shouldn't take advantage of the respect you're given by those who care by forcing them to listen to you. We have two ears and one mouth for a reason and that is that we should listen twice as much as we speak. There's also a difference between hearing something and actually listening to it. Don't be fooled by fake attention and don't be seduced by those who pay you mind for their own benefit.

You look like a turk. You look like your dad. You look like me. You look like the both of us. You look like neither of us.

A lot of things are bigger than the sum of their parts. As time goes by new things are added to a person, event or phenomenon. You should be grateful to be allowed to see the marvel of it.

Men are not to be trusted.

"The only way you can make a man trustworthy is to trust him and the surest way to make him untrustworthy is to distrust" - In active service in peace and war by Henry L. Stinson. I generally don't like expressing myself with quotes, but there are two truths laying just beneath the surface here, the first one being that everything that could possibly be said has already been said. The second one is that every person must learn their own lessons. Advice is nice. Support when you're learning those lessons by your own heart is better.

I wish she had said I would like more people to be like you, you're perfect the way you are.

The want list part 2.5

I wasn't going to surf the entire Internet to make another full list so soon, but stumbled across this, and as it has only been about a day since the last list, I'll just add this. C'est muy nice.

God isn't real.

I accidently proved that God doesn't exist by using math the other day. If good gives +1 point and punishing/judging gives -1 point and God is both good and punishing/judging the calculation goes +1-1=0. Zero is nothing. There is no God.

The want list part deux

First, something simple, like a perfect cup of coffee.

Then as it didn't make the other post, that panda umbrella.

Checkered floors. Yep, I'll take the staircase too. But maybe not the rug.

Supershiny hair. Major want.

Nice deep windows. Not necessarily as churchy as this one. I'll take it though.

A red coat. I know, I say it every year, one of these days I'll actually get one too. Come on colder weather, I want you, badly.

Hair clip thingies. I think they're cute.

Owl necklace. You know you want it too.

Plus some other stuff that's not very appropriate to put in a blogpost.

You know you live in the country when

- you know how many cars pass down your street a day.

- the church and it's affilliated buildings are the focalpoints.

- the priest calls you and asks why you never go to service and you feel it'd be awkward if you were honest and said you don't actually believe in God.

- the main forms of transportations are moped and tractor.

- you notice when the cashier in the store has new shoes.

- you shop at the dinky store because you don't feel like driving 12 mins to the supermarket.

- you feel bad for slamming your front door at 9 pm.

- your neighbour somehow feels he has the right to tell you need to shovel in straighter lines.

- your mailman asks you why you get so much mail from a particular company.

- the kiosk attendant automatically puts up what you usually buy on the counter.

- you check the window of the pizzeria owner's apartment through yours to see if they're open.

- everyone plays football because there's nothing better to do.

- the main weekend activity is car bingo.

- people ask you what kind of dogs you have when you take your cats for a leashed walk.

- your old classmates all live on the same street as you.

- a trip to Ibiza is considered to be educational as to what's going on in the world.

- the local paper's headline is "Graffiti on train" or "Man falls off bike".

- the library is only open twice a week, closed all summer.

- you can tell it's 5 pm because the streets are empty and you smell cooking.

- you see more sweatpants than dresses.

- you know which kid belongs in which house by the sound of their voices.

- people still shake their heads in wonder about the family with seven kids. The kids are now in their 50s.

- you're an outcast if you don't go to the Christmas fair.

- you wave at cars, not people.

- there are no buses on Sundays. Or holidays.

- you give directions such as "At the Holmgren farm, turn left towards the mill, at Svensson's flowery mailbox turn left again, then straight ahead past the Håkansson place".

- the cows wake you up every morning.

- most people wake up around the time you go to bed.

- you panic when you have to drive in a city.

- you can't crack jokes about anything that's happened in the past 20 years further away than 5 km from the store.

- people laugh at your clothes, then wear the same thing five years later.

- everyone knows who's sleeping with who.

- it's not called "sleeping with", it's called "you know".

- people avoid you like the plague when someone you know has died, but walk up and pat your shoulder at the cemetary.

- you can forget to lock your back door for a week and nothing happens.

- you've never been to the restaurant because it's only open from noon til 4 pm.

- if you have dark hair and eyes people often ask you where you're really from and look confused when you say "Stockholm" and then ask "Yes, but originally"

- you don't count unless your family goes back at least four generations in the same place.

- people mispronounce the word "originally".

- people say "det lade sardin på stämningen" instead of "det lade sorti på stämningen" and are utterly serious.

- you're considered exotic because you can tell the difference between a papaya and a coconut.

- you can ask any random person for your phonenumber in case you forgot it.

- there's no cellphone reception except for one provider.

- everything's done "for the community", may it be donating money to Haiti (yes, they just realised it happened) or going the speedlimit past the daycare.

- it's all really just a small collection of houses among trees and fields.

- you feel compelled to write a list like this.

Eels - Spectacular girl

Nice with some new stuff.

That's really uncomfortable

Not only the draft from the door when you open it not wearing any pants, but to see it's not who you expected, and asking yourself why you got the idea to open the door barely dressed at all. The bending down to empty the washer, the wet clothes on your arms, the stupid door you have to open to get to the dryer, the button on the dryer. All those annoying things you were trying to avoid, putting off, but had you done them you wouldn't stand in the doorway trying to cover yourself.

July.

Originally posted on September 13 2003 (In a place where September was like July)

It smells like home. With no other air than the one that has touched me life smells like my skin, my shampoo, my deodorant and my detergent.

It smells like summer. Air heated up by the sun, almost as if it was once shy, resting over grass who wishes to sleep and trees not realizing how short the life of their leaves is.

It smells like memories. What has been floats by just as quickly as the toughts of the future. It always feels the same when summer ends, something new is expected. Brush strokes over my mind leave traces of me on everything I've touched.

Beauty and nationality

I just read the silliest article about which country is the most beautiful. If you wish to read it for yourself, do so here, you won't get any wiser. However, while Sweden slipped to a 6th place and the examples given for what Swedish beauty is I noticed something else. It's the idea of beauty that must have changed while the classic blond hair and blue eyes isn't valued as highly. Countries such as Spain, Italy and Brazil have better positions. (As far as I could tell Norway wasn't on the list at all) Other classically blond countries like Holland and Germany finished last and second to last.

Why is this? There must have been a shift in the concept between the blonde and the brunette. Does it have to do with that the natural blond comes from a recessive gene that'll die out, and is ment to do so due to what we're attracted to? Something else it makes me wonder about is how much nationality we can read into someone's apperance. Do I look like the typical Swede? I know I don't fit the stereotype of it. I'm not overly tall, my eyes aren't blue, I'm not blond and my bosom should be left out of this. Does this lessen my swedishness or does it instead enhance the new type of Swede? The one that will come about with new generations while our immigrants become just as Swedish as us due to having their children here and them growing up here. I have generally said that if your parents were born in Sweden and you were as well, you're just as Swedish as I am. Even though I have more generations born here it doesn't make this country any more mine than anyone else's.

Another aspect is the internationalization process. Sweden's always been on top of technology, for instance we're the country with the most computers per capita in Europe, we also have something like 11 million mobile phone users, but only a 9 million people population. There is a simple explation to that, can you figure it out? What I was getting at was that we're now exposed to so many different looks, it's not all what's around us. And with Sweden being so accepting of imported music, movies, tv-shows and gossip we've just as accustomed to the darker hair and complexion.

This is something that has happened in my lifetime, or even during the years I've been an adult. Maybe I do owe the emo kids with dyed black hair some credit. I don't really believe we're attracted to the exotic per se, sure, part new mixed with something familiar, or attraction becomes too animalistic. Something I'm personally fine with, but is the average levelheaded Swede ok with that, apart from when they go on holiday and hook up with some monkey looking man they can't communicate with. Yes, that's right, the study verymuchalmostcompletelyIhadtolookseveraltimestoseeamalenamefocused on the beauty of women. At least the world of beauty hasn't changed that much, it's still women who are judged on their apperance.

And, oh yeah, Greta Garbo wasn't blond, neither was Ingrid Bergman. Even Sweden has blond in a bottle.

About me - the ego post

This picture was chosen because it's so crappy and that in itself is great enough.

I am the most marvellous, entertaining, witty and clever boring person you'll ever meet. I have a huge ego and the personality, taste, intelligence and compassion to back it up. I love analysing things. I don't always know whether or not to use American or British spelling due to using both versions, having been taught one and learned the other by proxy. I lovelovelovelove cats, especially my own. I believe in the good of mankind and I hope for world peace as well as try to base my decisions for (yes, I ment "for" not "in") life on how to find peace of mind. Peaceful people create peace and we should all work towards that. I spend oodles of time in front of the computer. I listen to music for at least 10 hours a day. I often sing the songs I'm listening to. I sing when I clean. I sing in the shower, but only sometimes. My insecurites are superficial and trouble me in double as I hate being shallow. I'm originally from a suburb south of Stockholm but I've lived here and there on two different continents. My Swedish accent is rather neutral but I tend to speak too fast and use words randomly. My biggest fear is whales, my second biggest fear is the dark, both in a physical and philosophical sense. I never have any money but I seem to always get by. My best friend always tells me I'm too nice and let people take advantage of me when I love them. (She said this right before she asked me if she could borrow my copy of Pan's labyrinth, which, of course I let her.) I love playing games. Everything's a game. I make up complicated rules and end up breaking them all in order to be able to continue playing. If you want to know what I'm doing you should probably ask what I'm playing. I was first published at 18. I had achieved all my goals in life by the time I was 22. I love cartoons, especially Timmy time, Spongebob and Fifi and the flowertots. I love documentaries, both on TV and the radio. I love crime shows too, like Midsomer Murders and Lynley. I'm not keen on dogs, but dogs like me. I love swinging in the park. I believe in justice for all. Justice is a man made concept but I think we have evolved past the stone age. I'm a pacifist and in part an existentialist. I do not believe in God. I cannot believe in God. I believe in my own theory of atoms (something I'm sure I'll get back to, eventually). I have never touched a gun. I prefer being cold to being hot. My favorite flower is daisy and my favorite colour is red. I dislike living in clutter. I once sold my father's car. I love airports. I daydream an awful lot. My nightdreams are extremly vivid and entertaining. I have curly hair but straighten it. I remember the most random things. I believe that everything is art. I'm shorter than my mother. I have an imaginary friend named Ellen. We also have an airguitarband. Ellen sings. I find people amusing, sometimes for the wrong reasons. My favorite season is autumn. I like simple foods and bakery goods. I'm not much of a cook. If I feel I'm getting enough back I'll give more than I have to give. My favorite jokes include tomatoes and mushrooms. I squee a lot. My university experiance includes subjects like world history, cultural theory, comparative literature and critical writing. I don't believe in conventional careers. Before I could write I drew stories. If you have a problem I will find you both an explaination and a solution, but I'm not always as great at doing that for myself. I'm very polite. I'm not very good at parking or going in reverse. I have three siblings but have only spoken to one of them in the past 10 years. I love unicorns. I don't trust easily. I sometimes wonder what'd happen if all the banana peels were filled with fish. I love the forest. Creativity, intelligence, understanding and patience wins me over. Molly isn't my real first name. Molntuss isn't my real last name. I've made a decision to be more open. I believe in taking things one step at a time. Thank you.

The state of things

Other person: You are overanalysing things that I neither know about nor care about
Molly: What the hell, you don't care about every winding corner of my mind? I have to make a passive agressive blogpost about this

Consider it done.

Battle of the cynics, again on the topic of love.

It's summer and hot outside. I say I'm hot. It's true when I say it. It won't be true in the snowstorms that come in January. If I've just eaten I'm full. It's true when I say it, it won't be true the next day. I'm tired when I've been up for twenty four hours. It won't be true after I've slept. I loved someone, it was true when I said it. Time went by and it wasn't anymore. It didn't make the times when I said it lies.

Another aspect of oneself in relation to other people is that we're all selfish. There's no getting around it. We do what makes us feel good. We simply do not do things we get nothing out of, not even self punishment. Why does the anorexic starve herself? Because hungerpains are better than the anxiety of eating. Why does the runner run until he's sick? Because giving it all that you've got is a great feeling. It's fairly simple, really. As complicated as people are, we're not really as complex as we think, nor as special in the sense that we have new things to offer every person we come across. We love the same way which is why we say similar things. Again, it doesn't make me a liar if I tell more than one person how I enjoy that particular touch. I'm selfish. I want what makes me feel good.

Admitting to be selfish is a relief, as then you know what to expect from others as well. You make them feel good and they want you around. If you don't, well then rejection is on the horizon. Naturally there are more things to take into consideration, it can also be a nice feeling to think "I knew it" once that rejection comes. Being right feels good as well.

I suppose the cynical part of it is to remain level headed. There are very few people we can expect everything from. Noone's perfect and everyone will in some detail fail us, but as usual, if the positive bits outweigh that it shouldn't even be an issue. We have to look at everything realistically, we owe it to ourselves to do so, as after all we're the one that matters to ourselves the most.

Does this make me emotionally stunted? I don't think so. I think it makes me honest and easy to deal with. People are a bit like bank accounts, while they keep making deposits of positive they're good to have around, and if they have over time made a lot of positive deposits they can make bigger withdrawls at their lower points in life, it's up to you to decide how much they can though, as you're the director of that bank. But at the same time you have to make sure you are the type of bank others want to open accounts in. It goes hand in hand with trust, trust is earned, not bought. This is where the parts about other partners come in. No matter what kind of relationship you have there will always be potential others, for both of you. There's really nothing you can do about that apart from being and remaining the better option. If you're left behind it should be for someone greater than you. See it as inspiration to becoming even greater than you already are and know that your next partner should match that. If you're left behind for someone lesser than you, well then your partner didn't deserve you in the first place.

To put it plainly. Be the master of your own world.

People as lexical categories

Noun: any abstract or concrete entity
Or thing. Easy to identify. Point at them and that's what they are. A what you see is what you get category of people.

Pronoun: any substitute for a noun or noun phrase
Not that many, but very meaningfull. Used often. Carries a lot on their shoulders. Things would be hard to understand and/or meaningless without them.

Adjective: any qualifier of a noun
Identifying. Points out things. Makes the world more nuanced.

Verb: any action or state of being
Those who do, but don't know how. Occationally those of less intelligence.

The basics. I'm certain you know at least one person in each category.

Beating a dead horse.

We all know what Kodak is. Some also know who George Eastman is. There we have it the Eastman Kodak Company. He was a very successful man. He never married and he donated oodles of money to charity. Good for karma, tell me how you're enjoying Nirvana mr Eastman? The story of his death is also worth a mention. He was getting caught up, so he wrote a note saying "My work is done. Why wait?" and shot himself. Productive in life and in death. Very impressive if you ask me. Now, it does make me wonder.

No perfect way to end anything. Like that song I posted months and months ago holding the line of "I always cry at endings", most things look better in retrospect. But sometimes the fear of what we stand to lose is overshadowed by what we stand to gain. Yes! I know! I'm slowly but surely becoming an optimist like the happy customers in infomercials or the after picture in a poorly written article in Amelia. Does being an optimist even rhyme with being a cynic?

It doesn't make you shallow to want to be happy. It doesn't mean you don't try even if you were to fail. Sometimes what you want isn't what you're ment to have. At times it's simply not worth the fight just so that you can say "at least I didn't quit". We all quit, everything ends, it's how much you enjoy yourself during that counts. In 40 years your children won't remember that toy they never got, they'll remember how you picked them up and spun them until they were wheezing with laughter. Your lovers won't remember the diamonds, they'll remember how you smiled when you said good morning.

Think like a cat. If you're hungry, eat. If you're tired, sleep. If you're snuggly, curl up next to someone. When you love someone look them in the eyes. If we take more pictures, like I'm sure George Eastman intended us to do, take pictures of those things you want to remember instead of what you think others want to see. Those tiny moments that make up a life.

Summer, how I hate you.

You're the fickle mistress of an entire people. They worship you as if you were a goddess, they wait for you, long for you, plan for you, celebrate your arrival. What do you offer in return? Scorching heat or pouring rain. Mosquitoes, wasps, peeling skin, naked children, flipflops with socks, closed hospitals, caravans tipping on bridges, ice cream stained asphalt and arguments in cars.

No, summer, I'm not charmed. No flowers can compensate the autoreplies I get from e-mailing the university. No heat can justify me in a bikini on a square. I hate you, detest you, loathe you. You're the barbed wire I have to crawl through to get to the air at the end of the tunnel. Autumn, I will embrace you this year in ways I never have before.

As a mistress you have twisted their heads, summer. They can't see you for what you are, you lying good for nothing whore.

Slight information

I'll return with more. I promise. Just need a bit. Thank you for your patience.

I love YouTube

If nothing else is, this should be enough;

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A team of highly trained monkeys has been dispatched to deal with this situation.

If you see them, show them this information:

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Today

Today I smell like sunshine, I'm blinded by the heat and the birds will need a speech therapist if they keep this up. With all that, this comes to mind



Don't worry, love, I get the irony. Especially as irony is the love of my life.

The pen is mighter than the sword - an example.

Hello. I am writing this, but not using a pen. Tip tap on keys and instant results in perfectly shaped letters in an order Gutenberg could only have hoped for. Zoom, zoom. Either way, I'll tell you about the first time I heard the expression of that the pen is mighter than the sword. I was just a child and totally misunderstood it. I looked at my pen and noting how small it must be compared to a sword. How could it be mighter than hard clinging steel? Needless to say someone kindly explained it to me to mean that words can be more powerful than violence. Thank you! This post will have several layers to it, I actually considered putting a label on it to be Watch out for subtext, but I figured that clearly signal for subtext would give the ironic result of there not really being any subtext. Sidenote. Always with the sidenotes.

Now, this expression is actually kind of, sort of in a way the perfect example of that we don't always say what we mean and that language isn't as logical as we'd like it to be (what on earth was that flying past my window I wonder if it'll rain today I really wish it'd rain and scare everyone inside but it'd be sad for those getting married today why's today supposed to be so romantic anyway funny how I pick the words I know how to spell like back in the day where I only used really short words because I was afraid of misspelling still kind of am I suppose yeah those bushes are really growing wild I need to do something about that it'll be later though I have to finish what I started here why am I not writing that guy on tv really needs a haircut not that longer hair is bad but that just looks uncomfortable I have to add conditioner to the shoppinglist by the way I forgot last time good God I hate this commercial) We don't actually mean that that little pen can beat a sword, what we mean is that worlds will live on and can argue better. Just as you say you're starving when you have skipped lunch.

Language is all about uncertainties, and we're reminded of it often. All those vague expressions we toss out there "I'll be there in a little bit", "that's beautiful", "it's late". They don't really mean anything do they, but at the same time they mean pretty much everything. If you have at one point put your heart in the hands of someone else you have also let yourself succumb to it. An often tossed around phase is "I love you", but we never really know what others mean by love. It's impossible to feel what others feel. So maybe it'd be more honest to say "I feel something for you that I personally identify as love." The more generic the phrase the more we're expected to take it at face value and expected to know what it means.

Over time I've also learned that not everyone has the same perception of words at all. Not all weigh them back and forth to at least attempt to find the perfect mix, the same tint to match the blue moods, the red and the green. What do you mean when you say "It's green"?

Another level of it is, just that, what I said in the beginning. We don't really use pens anymore to write something and when's the last time you saw someone walking around with a sword. Those expressions remain while the world changes. It must be impossible to learn it all, all those things we intend to say when we say everything else.

Ha.

Horton hears a who

Love this movie. Love some of the things said.

Katie: In my world everyone is a pony, and they all eat rainbows, and poop butterflies.

Morton: Horton, the kangaroo has sent Vlad!
Horton: Vlad? Vlad, Vlad... I know two Vlads. There's the bad Vlad... And then there's bunny Vlad, the one that makes cookies!
Morton: ...Yeah, Horton, she's sending you a bunny with cookies. I think it's safe to say it's the bad Vlad.
Horton: Yeah, good call.

Horton: [thanking people] And Morton, for being the only one who stood by me. Well not right by me; he hid in the bushes sending me good thoughts. He's small.
Morton: Dude, you are a warrior poet.

Narrator: [epilogue] And so, all ended well for both Horton and Who's, and for all in the jungle, even kangaroos. So let that be a lesson to one and to all; a person is a person, no matter how small

View of a woman

I'm a big believer that every thought of the present has been thought in the past, sometimes it just takes time to develop the ideas and make them mainstream. A very easy example of this is how women are viewed. I'm a bit conflicted, all great philosophers, from Aristotele, Plato, Darwin and Martin Luther all thought that women weren't quite people at all. How did that idea even come about? Western history is written by straight, white males from higher classes. We know that much and there's really no point in discussing the structures behind it, even if it'd be a giving discussion indeed.

I'm just trying to wrap my head around the thinking. Did they think a dog could give birth to a cat? Or a lion to a donkey? Could a woman, if not human, give birth to a human that later turned into a man? If a woman was an animal what does that make the man that desires her? Maybe children weren't human either, perhaps one became a person only when he became physically a man. But still, how did that come about? Magic? Also, did the men love women? Or did they love them in the way I love my cats? That's kind of strange too, I have no lustful feelings for them at all.

It's fairly easy to point out how the opinions were, but those opinions must have been part of a larger system of thoughts. You can't know anything without context. We need context to have things make sense. And this part I simply don't understand.

Or maybe, love is a modern feeling. But I doubt that too, Sappho wrote about love. But she was a woman after all. Was the idea that women are capable of feelings of love and men of lust? Did noone love their women?

Or maybe we're just kidding ourselves, perhaps there is no love at all. Maybe we look for other things. Maybe a relationship is a physical convinience, as dull as that sounds. Someone to feed and be fed by, to please and be pleased by. You catch my drift, I'm sure. Perhaps love is just the extention of ourselves. I really don't think so, although the idea of a woman not being a person does lead to a series of other questions.

I'm not going to get all feminist here. There's no point at all. Only when we no longer have a use for the word feminist will this be an equal world, and I doubt that'll ever happen

The historical disasters

History holds quite a few disasters. Wars, plauges, earthquakes, revolutions, tsunamies and social outcastness. Not forgetting something like the Titanic. To stick to that for an example for a bit. How long does the disasterness last? It's really sad all those people died, but by now they would all have been dead anyway. World war 2 is heading the same way, I suppose. Can it only remain a disaster while people are still around to carry on the legacy of it's horrors? In a way I think so. We can read about the black death wiping out a big part of the population, but without eyewitnesses it's kind of a dead story. A bit almost like a fairytale. Only to be remembered by words. Also the world was a very different place back then. That makes it even harder for us to relate to them. I have no direct relationship with any of these things. My life has been pretty safe when it comes to historical disasters, they haven't bothered me.

How does this relate to personal matters. Perhaps I let strange things bother me because I always get stuck in my own perspective. I haven't experianced wars. Not even any really nature disasters. Just a few storms with power black outs for a couple of weeks. Really no biggie if you compare. To me the personal disasters are the disasters. In a way I don't think it differs that much from the bigger picture. Even world war 2 was such a historical disaster because it consisted of a lot of personal ones. Every loved one taken away. That's something we can all relate to. It's only the way they went that differs really. The uncertainty of where life is heading might have been a bit overwhelming at times, but then again, there's safety in numbers right? Maybe it felt a bit better if you knew millions of other people were in the same shitsituation as you, you wouldn't feel so lonley.

It kind of reminds me of that book by Camus, The Plauge where one of the characters is concidering suicide before the town gets sick, and well, when they're all sick he finds some kind of peace of mind. Like they're all sharing his misery and that makes it easier to bear. I think that's why humanity keeps coming back and surviving these things. We do it together, we share the misery and we fight together to find a way forward how much we hurt individually.

In that context it's easier to understand the peaks of depression in a general population. When a society is doing well and things are good it's a double curse to be sad and empty. You don't have a place in that and you stick out even more. Karin Johannisson writes in her book Melakoliska rum that melancholy is a lack. Perhaps in a healthy society the lack that causes melancholy is a sense of belonging and being made abundant by the world you live in. Not saying that's the whole cause of it, and it also raises the question of what came first the melancholy or the sense of not belonging. I'm hardly qualified to answer that question! Though I think it's safe to say that there is a connection between mental unhealth and a lower position in society, shown for example as unemployment and/or lack of funds.

Will we look at the starvation in Africa the same way? A chance for the planet to get caught up and a new level to exist on. I doubt people 500 years from now will have a problem with that, no more than I have with villages being taken over by nature because all the inhabitants died in a disease I'll never risk contracting.

Perhaps it's a simple human need to have disasters. If they don't happen to us on a grander scale we create our own. Yeah, I really think so

Labeling with some help from Foucault

First off, I'd like to add a disclaimer - I might have misunderstood Michel Foucault completely to make it suit my own ideas better. Live with it. Secondly I'd like it noted that a blog isn't a paper, it's simply a rest from my academic life where I can freely associate my own mind with things I've read. Now. Let's get started (watch this post not being as long as I had intended it to be...)

Basically, things aren't anything until we label them and how we choose to label might have dire consequenses. Take mental illness as an example. What is a mental illness? Personally I'd like to say it's something that makes a person unable to participate in, and be satisfied with the society we live in. It's fairly general. We can all see the lalaing fool punching at imaginary elephants as being mentally ill. But what if we take a bigger perspective, if we were to take Sokrates out of his time and put him in modern day Göteborg for instance, would he be able to function? I doubt it. Does it prove that Sokrates was mentally ill? No it doesn't. Is a woman mentally ill for wanting to live a life without men? Is homosexuality a disease? It all seems to depend on context.

Mental unhealth is also a product of the time, place and ideas we live in and with. There are no bulletproof waters here. In my opinion it also has a lot to do with values. A sick person has just as much value as a healthy one simply for being human. Though we're limited, no matter how open and understanding we'd like to be we can't absorb everything and be accepting and happy with it. It seems to be a human need to seperate people into two groups - we and them.

Which group we see ourselves as belonging to differs from time to time and even from situation to sitauation. It's all in the comparison. With that I come to the conclusion that there is no truth. There is no independent yardstick which we can use to measure life with. People consist of life, without that we're just matter similar to a plant. In comparison I can be old, young, big, small, happy, miserable, tall, short, intelligent, stupid, charming or a downer. So, which adjectives are actually me? The labels I claim for myself and use in my mind when I picture a "me"? Still that'd take a fair amount of confidence. There's only one of me telling myself something while as the world is full of other people that might be telling me I'm something else. This raises a whole other series of ideas and questions.

But if we are to stick for the labeling for a while, let's assume that in the beginning of time where didn't have contact in the manner we do now and we lived in isolated villages or tribes or whatever the window of what's normal could have gone two different ways, either everything was normal or nothing was normal. In connection to the previous idea of comparison it seems to me that city people think that small villages are accepting because everyone knows each other while as villagers seem to think that they can be accepted in a city because of the bigger diversity. Perhaps there's no real getting around the aspect of comparison after all, even if I'd like to leave that to the side. So, what I'd like to know is if there was a way of feeling normal, did they set the standard for normal by who they cared for? Was the king's son normal because he was the next in line for the throne even though he was that lalaing fool?

Which authorites do we have in what a good person is? Religion perhaps. But what if one bishop had a different idea than the one in the area next to his? Would he have labeled all other people but his "bad" just because he could? It seems difficult to reclaim a sense of being an acceptable person if you fall into a category which traditionally is seen as bad.

Another thing, this whole tradition bit. It can't be the absolute truth, after all. Society consists of people and it must have come with someone. A charming loudmouth more than likely. Seems the louder and more convincingly someone speaks the more followers succumb to the teachings. They don't even have to be rational and satisfying, a loud voice seems to keep the voice of reason quiet in all of us.

Foucault does the same with sex. Our modern idea of sex is something than the act itself. I read something by his about it a while ago. I wish I could remember exactly how it went. But the way I remember it now when it's been scrambled about my head along with my own understandings for a while is that gender is a construction of history, not a given fact. Of course I agree with that. Just look at the formation of the middle class. Given tasks for everyone, a wife to be a mother and the caregiver for a household, not necessarily a person. She was there to please her husband and make people out of their offspring.

More information isn't always the answer to a bigger understanding. Sometimes the understanding alone should be enough. When you get that sting in your gut and you feel like you're about to say something stupid and stereotypical you should probably listen to it. There is no truth in genders either, just tradition, and like I said before it's made by us. We're really the only ones that can change it by not using expressions like "It's always been like that" or "It's supposed to be like that". What is, has been and will be is under constant reevaluation.

Let's use Christmas for an example. It might seem that we have a set way of doing it, but it really evolves, constantly. Although we eat particular christmasfood, preform certain rituals, such as giftgiving or seeing relatives it's never quite the same. We can't recreate a certain event at a different point in time. It's impossible! Christmas in Sweden in the 21st century is different from Christmas in Sweden in the 19th century even though not that many generations have passed Every little shift creates a different outcome, similar to a branch which grows in different directions.

With this being said, we should use utter care when we label something, even though we might need them to make sense of the world and to remember who our true friends and values are we can't be stale and unwilling to change our minds.

Time changes and time changes us

Potential space

2002 was the first time I heard of potential space. The definition was, well still is I suppose, a place where people don't know how to act and the social rules we obey on a daily basis don't exist yet. We know how to act in a store, at a party, at work, in traffic or at a trainstation. In a potential space we don't. We sort of wander aimlessly and try to figure it out, and usually have a pretty good time doing so. A bit like in a warzone when the people came back to find their home to be something completely different. Perhaps that's a bad example but it's the one I have at hand at the present.

What if we were to thow out the past. Completely. All of it. As if the whole population suffered memory loss. There's be no memories and we wouldn't know each other. The whole universe would be potential space. There'd be no history. I haven't decided on the exact details I would like, but I'm assuming we can't speak or read either. We'd be corrupted by that.

If the whole human race would have to reinvent itself, how would the world be, with that second chance to set everything straight. I'm pretty sure we'd grunt a lot, communication is a human need. Perhaps we'd all starve to death. At least here in the dark north we would. There'd be no food in the winter so we'd lack the nessecary skills to feed ourselves. In the long run perhaps that wouldn't be that much of a loss. All the knowledge would be gone.

Would we go through the same growing pains as humans already have? Would the same areas be the dominant ones? Would religion even exist?

Or! Something that would be easier to use for an example to get my point across. What if all the books disappeared, except the ones dealing with science. there'd be no Poe, no Shakespeare, no Almqvist, no Dostovkeskij, no Dante, no Marklund, no anything. And first and foremost, there'd be no Bible, no Koran, no Torah. All the imaginative stories would be gone and we'd have to start from scratch in that department. Yes, I think I like this example better, in the first one we'd all probably just die. How depressing.

So, if we had no concept of religion whatsoever, would we invent it or would we just carry on our merry way dropping different sized balls from a tower to see if they fell at the same speed? Perhaps we'd all just be really coldhearted if we only had science.

But what I really wonder about are the concepts of things like common sense and beauty. They seem to rest firmly on something we call tradition, something I've touched in a previous post. Tradition, and values are created by people but if we had to recreate those, out of nothing, how would they be. How would we decide what's polite and what's rude and well, would we ever agree on it? Would we even have them?

Actually the whole idea makes me a bit uneasy as I pride myself in being polite, friendly and nice. I don't always succeed, but I try. Sometimes I tie myself in a knot and develop a terrible migraine and throw up a couple of times because it feels like I have some kind of devilish creature stuck half digested in my midregion, but that's besides the point. I still try to obey by the rules, the unspoken rules of society.

I figure it'd go something like this, first off we'd all be really selfish and take what we need, as a law isn't sience. Then some brainiac would say "hey chum, this isn't working" and we'd have laws. Someone would take a stick or something and start beating people up who didn't agree and to avoid pain we'd obey. Most of us anyway.

Then there'd be riots, because we'd all get to talking you see, noticing not everyone agrees. That would in extention lead to nations. By then everyone would be rather comfortable and feeling a little bit easier, they would have found people that were similar to them and that they could grunt with, hm, or maybe the would have developed speeach. Wait, did we speak in this example. If I didn't say so we would by now.

Then it's the whole aspect of love and such activities. I'm sure that in the beginning, where we enjoyed anarchy we would have gone where our whim was taking us but that doesn't work in a longliving society does it? We have to be able to trust people, depend on others to help us out. So for the sake of that let's say we hook up all couple like, but without the tradition of who we're supposed to be with. We would at least get to keep that freedom, for a while, surely it'd change over time when some smartass gets the idea to decide who we can love, how much and why, and let's not forget, in which manner.

By then it'd pretty much be like now. Perhaps we simply need these rules to not have anarchy. We need to feel opressed and shameful for everyone to get a piece of the action. But at the same time I doubt that the areas we concider successful would be the one that did the best, nor the people who did the best. Remember, we had no memory of feminism, racism, colonialism or any other -ism, those are all inventions of the human mind.

Hopefully we'd start creating stories anyway, maybe Borges was on to something about rewriting Don Quixote. Ok, time for me to confess my colour, what I really want said is that I think that somewhere in our windling brains there's an absolute idea, and the world around us is just a result of the electric sparks over time, so with the potential of potential space worldwide, seems I'm cynical enough to think we'd end up pretty much where we are. Just with a lot of unemployed priests.

The boy that didn't want to grow up

When I was a child with only two TV channels there used to be a cartoon about a man who didn't want to grow up. I think it was called Mannen som inte ville vara stor (The man that didn't want to be an adult) I tried googling it but didn't find anything about it. Instead I ended up on a bunch of crap blogs written by men who don't want to grow up. Amusing in itself I suppose. But anyway, they kind of illustrate what I'm about to illuminate, or well, comment on at least.

At the time I watched that cartoon I didn't understand it at all. Why wouldn't anyone want to grow up? Being an adult seemed great! You'd always get your way and you could buy what you wanted, decide what you'd eat and watch and when to be home and all that good stuff. Needless to say now I know better.

It's a sign of the time, being stuck in the middle generation. I do believe it's hard for a geneneration to claim their adulthood when the parentgeneration still conciders themselves to be somewhat young. They're most definatly overlapping now. My favorite example, Amelia Adamo thinks that the 60s is the new 30s. How can someone in their late 20's have anything to say about that? You can't rebel against something when they're basically trying to be you.

We can all individually rebel against our parents but we can't rebel against a part of the population. Anyway, this argument isn't leading anywhere, really, it's just facts. There are not as many little old ladies anymore, they're still buying expensive jeans and tanning in their 50s, so maybe I should just focus on why and perhaps even find something to blame.

Though I feel I should add that I don't blame them, if I had a chance to turn back time and remain myself at my best moments even when my body tells me those times are gone I would. Though that option is now being taken away from me. More power to those who claim the space that isn't theirs!

So, basically it must have something to do with health and for how long we can remain independent and the top generation. Even though the age for retiremnt here is 65 people live 30 or so years after that. That is a long time. Retirement doesn't mean you're going to sit in your chair and wait for death anymore. We're having kids at 45! The whole spectra of age has shifted due to the longlivity of the people in the rich west. Good healthcare, lack of disasters and wars make us safe and healthy.

Also it adds pressure. It's not ok to look and act your age. This goes with the post about beauty, really. If you look "old" it's your own fault as there's help out there to purchase. I silently wonder how many would have the old-lady-hairstyle and be happy with it if they weren't constantly fed the fountain of youth myth. So instead of sighing when I see them I should pity them for not being allowed to age gracefully.

I have a personal relationship with it, I feel harsh at times, but what am I to do when it's so ridicilous. Women in their 60's aren't as strong as those in their 20's and I had to point that out to someone in her late 50's about a week ago. The other side of the phone got quiet when I said "Well think about how the age 61 seemed to you when you were 28, the body breaks down eventually". I felt mean and coldhearted. But at the same time it's something I can say when it hasn't happened to me yet. Let me keep my youth and don't feed me your decay as I try really hard to not rub my unwrinkled hands in your face. I will get old myself, unless I get hit by a bus before that, but give me the chance to enjoy (as if I've ever enjoyed anything) every age I'm at without the double standard of being loyal to your body not bouncing as it once did.

Honestly I feel judged, belittled and headpetted by my parentgeneration. You're old, accept it. (When you start calling your own age the new XX's you're just in denial) Bones are going to break, hair is going to change colour, you're going to be tired, angry, worn out. It's perfectly normal. Don't make the mistake of worrying about the wrong things, and don't plan funerals just yet. There has to be a middle way.

Remember, as long as you keep the younger adults children in your eyes you can't expect us to carry your burdens and clean up after your childish mistakes.

Anyway to go back to the 60's being the new 30's. You can't take one age out of the whole spectra. See if that was to be true I'd be a toddler. So be careful, you don't want to incapacitate everyone that happens to be born after you because of your own fear of death. Every generation makes its own mistakes. Just like mother cat walks away from her litter we need a bigger gap between generations. Only now it seems that the children need to walk away from their parents because we share too much space.

An example of that is how the younger are beginning to leave Facebook now when their parents are finding their way there. We need privacy, some things shouldn't be shared between parents and children while in some aspects we should share everything with those who love us the most.

I don't even want to find my brother online which is why I blog in English under a penname and remain quiet when he talks about the communites he's a member of when I realize we go the same places. Hopefully I'll never run into my mother online, even now when she's finally coming to the conclusion there are still things out there she needs to learn, and I know she'll get all excited and make the mistake of joining them all.

Either way, that cartoon was made by people from my parentgeneration. That should have been my first clue to that I'll be kept a child forever so that they can still feel young. I'm not making an apology, the king is dead long live the king!