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.