Ahh.

Lovely.

A song

Your body is a landscape

It's a landscape and a wonderland. The steps you've taken saved in your cells and the smells of damp, crisp flavoured air embedded in your lungs, continuing your travels with you. You're a physical testament to the places you've been and the things you've touched. The lines on your forehead are a map of your detours with your scars as fireworks on your arrival.

Are you a desert or a foreign land? A mountain or a hill? An ocean or a waterfall? Is your skin full of butterflies or tigers? Or are you simply the surface of the moon?

I'm the asphalt floating by two story houses with driveways lined with hedges and a cold blue sky and leaves in change, a distant sound of traffic and a scent of autumn rain drying in the wind.

Burn this fire

If the forest was to catch on fire while the men were fighting for their land, would they lay down their weapons to put it out or would they put their heart into the slaughter hoping there'd be enough time for the victor to escape?

There are things in life worth fighting for and possessions is not one of them. If you look up the Swedish word vämjelse it translates to disgust, but if you look up avsky it gives you so many more options to choose from. Should this moment be spent to find the perfect word to express vämjelse? Loathing? Abhorrance? Disrelish? I'll never feel the English expressions gut stabbing effect in the same manner I do the words of my mother tounge. Perhaps I've forgiven words too easily because I simply don't fully understand the abomination they represent.

Words are powerful things, but some of them hold more fear than others, some of them are things we commonly as humans have learned to unite to avoid. Fire. Run. Small words containing so much of our history. Our survival have depended on our understanding of those, but now, at times, it's heroic to run straight into the fire, right into the pit of disaster. What happened to those other small words? Love. Lust.

It's possible to combine them yes, four words holding most possible outcomes for human interaction. Add a couple of "to" and "from". Try. Run to love. Love from lust. Lust from fire. Fire from lust. Run from love. How many times do we not find ourselves as part of it and we trust our instincts to make an appropriate decision. It's hard to believe that run from love to fire is in our best intrest.

So, why can't we stop saying those disgusting things and lay down our differences and let the world be a peaceful one? Yes it's another plea on my part, my tiny attempt to show that I will not respect you if you can't stop setting the world on fire not with your words, but your lack of understanding for the mess you make. So please, just stop.

In lyrics

I was really startled before, I thought something was going on outside, but it was just a bluetit enticing the cats. Humans are equally easy to distract, willing to accept just about anything they're told. Natural followers due to the love of the path of the least resistance.

We all rebel on occation, but surely, isn't it really against ourselves? But it can't help but make me wonder who the leaders are if people are generally followers. I have a tendency to be a bit bossy at times (yes, take a break so you can finish laughing before you go on) but it's a process, just like everything else. When two leaders are put together they must do a few rounds to see who's the bossiest. You can have an endless amount of followers while there's only room for so many leaders. I've done this on occation, and I quite enjoy the challenge. We're animals in that sense, pack animals, some claim it's civilization. Maybe it is, I don't really care as long as I get my way.

I didn't really see myself as a leader, I still don't, in all reality, but people do tend to listen to my suggestions and go with what I say. (Yes, darlings, I am seeking help for my addiction to commas!) Maybe it just means I have good ideas and I'm not afraid to stand up for what I believe in.

Today I believe in the weakness of mankind and it's inability to solve even the simplest of tasks, even if they're necessary for societies' wellbeing. Trust me, it's in all the lyrics of all the songs. Just listen.

"Love will turn you around"
"What's with that sod face, has your heart been beating at too a slow a pace?"
"And you're still out there, darling, clinging to the wrong ideas"
"Would you lay with me and just forget the world?"
"I know it's gonna hurt your pride though, to have to put away your knife so, I come back here tomorrow night, alone, and you can take anything, you can take anything that you want"
"I change shapes just to hide in this place, but I'm still an animal"

Surely you don't need X university credits to read what lines like that really say. Surrender, let someone else do it for you, nothing but you concerns you in this world.

Critical thinking

In a way there's nothing that is "knowledge". Just use the easy thing of what you know about yourself and what others know about you. The rest of "knowledge" is similar. What universities teach you isn't necessarily knowledge, it's tools for you to gather your own knowlege and tools on how to deal with it. Repeating something a teacher has told you isn't a proof of you having learned anything at all, it's just a sign that you have accepted a certain amounts of facts. Whether or not those facts will lead to knowledge is up to you. Sound familiar? Places, dates, names, wars, events, revolutions, political parties, words, words, words. It's all good to have in your memory when you watch Jeopardy, but what does it lead to?

It'd be silly to think that one person can know everything and please everone's desire for the hunt of understanding the web that we would actually call, if not knowledge itself, but close to it. It's easier for a teacher to put out a test and expect his or her own phrases to be repeated, it'd be a bigger task to actually value the other thoughts brought up. Is this why in the academic world repeating well selected words is at a higher value than new ideas? Ideas and the urge to move forward is, ironically, what that world is built upon. Curiosity and creativity are two pillars that shouldn't become hollow and later on collapse.

Just like a poem can mean more than the poet intended the things taught aren't but seeds to be planted in the garden of the mind. We must water those seeds and let them grow into something splendid, and in doing so we can't answer questions in well prepared phrases, we must be humble to the fact that we don't know everything and instead develop a way of thinking that lets more ideas become the fertilizer for our mind garden so we can blossom and later on pick a flower and pass it on to someone else.

I'm not arguing that it's impossible to know things, but everything depends on the angle and what those facts are going to be used for. History is my favorite child for this "Many think that history has been written once and for all - that we already know everything we need to know to understand our past and and future. That is wrong. The picture must constantly be questioned and reevaluated." I think it was Dick Harrison that said it, and it's my translation from Swedish.

Language is another aspect of this. Nothing can be expressed exactly the same in two languages. Simple words like "yes" and "no", surely. But just think how many different things the phrase "Over there" can mean, so, what you're looking for is "over there", you just need to find it depending on your current position.

A moderate selection.

Sometimes I feel as if the whole world concerns me, sometimes I feel like nothing in the world concerns me at all and at other times I feel as the whole world should be concerned about me.

Inspire me

I'm sitting here, been sitting here, waiting for a wiff of inspiration. Perhaps I spent it all on productive things. That's more than likely a better approach to life. Spend your energy on the things you're supposed to do. But, what's the fun in that, where's the suprise?

Even though it doesn't technically fall in the category of productive productions I've been working on a story as well, but I think I like the idea of it more than I like the end product. We'll see. I have no ambitions really. I'm way too old for ambitions.

Speaking of too old. I was pondering what we to preserve our apperances. Do antiwrinklecreams actually help, and if they don't would we really know the difference? I mean, we only know the end result of the choices we did make, not the ones we didn't. That logic tells me that perhaps it doesn't really matter anyway. We're just (maybe) delaying what's coming to us anyway, and why would it be so scary to become what we're ment to be?

Lately I've thought of old people like the end product. Like it takes us all life to get to that stage. Not everyone enjoys the luxury of growing old. Some die way too soon. Maybe a death of someone oh too young when I was oh too young to know what it'd do to me long term has coloured my views. I've never felt immortal and the end has always been present. It could be for that simple knowledge that I like to be a bit cautious.

Anyway, until I get inspired, that's pretty much what all I've got.

Waiting

Waiting can be so many different things. Like finding a picture on google of a cat that looks like it's waiting, and then realizing you don't have time to wait any longer, the time is now. So much for that.

Those things we say

Clichés are probably clichés because they serve some kind of purpose. There's some kind of essence in there that speaks to mankind. Well, they're all really basic things, about really basic things, most of them, while others are about heartbreaking things. Perhaps it's as simple as some of them are used because we can't think of anything else to say, like an automated reply. They somehow protect us from what's really going on or buy us some time to figure it out.

Personally I'm tempted to reply to all clichés with "Elaborate and exemplify", but I have a feeling that'd annoy people.

There's a dissertation from Umeå universitet called Fega pojkar pussar aldrig vackra flickor, Könsrelaterade ordspråk i nordnorrländsk agrarmiljö belysta ur språkligt och kulturellt perspektiv by Daniel Andersson. (Couldn't think of a longer title could you, Daniel, hm?) I haven't read it but the title translates to Cowardly boys never kiss beautiful girls, gender related proverbs in northern Norrland's rural farmer environment from a linguistic and cultural perspective. The idea is that the proverbs are memories, on how to behave in certain situations, and which actions are the better, it also points out which qualities are typically male or female. I'd like to read it, but it'd probably anger me.

In part this is what I mean, that as long as we use these expressions they remain true. Language effects our way of thinking. I don't completely agree with Julia Kristeva when she means that language is a male tool and that women are capitives in it, not sure why I don't really, maybe it just implies that men and women never communicate. I'm seeing this from a female perspective, obviously, I don't know if my language is male or female per se, and also according to Kristeva females have an area that's not accessible to men, a set of rules and behaviours men can't understand, while as women are way more familiar with how men act and think, because of the power perspective. The oppressed know more about the oppressor than the other way around, and with not being a man I will never fully understand this.

As far as miscommunication goes I can see that there's an issue, but I'd like it to be more about a person than a gender. I can't understand all men just like I can't understand all women. Is this where clichés fill their part? "I don't understand what the heck we're discussing, let's switch to weather talk"

Also, at any point you label someone you risk mislabeling them. Taking on the bigger perspective again, it's not only a men-women relation, there's also the generation aspect, cultural one, class (I'm not naive enough to think classes don't exist), and then also the plain psychological things a satisfying and safe home, same with work. I put no fundamental perception in what you are and where you come from, I value how you are in relation to me. If we can find a level to work on you're a good person, if we can't I'll probably ponder why but noone can get along with everyone.

Yes, that must be what clichés are. Social lubrication, that's a purpose as good as any.

Trips and tips

Now, let's take some trips for Halloween, we'll start here, with the Museum of medieval torture instruments in Prague. http://www.prague.net/medieval-torture-instruments. It's really incredible what people could do to each other. And still can! I'm not buying it for one second that people are more violent today than we were back then. I think we're just denying a rather important part of ourselves when we claim to be more civilized nowadays. We're really not that civilized. We just like the professionals to handle it. You know, the ones that really know how to kill people. I still say let's make armies illegal. Oh how uncivilized of me!

When we're done looking at the instruments of torture and we're trying to wash the agonies of the past off we can do this! http://www.jack-the-ripper-walk.co.uk/ following in the footsteps of Jack the Ripper. Seems neat, huh? They even show real victorian photographs. I assume it's similar to that one. Or maybe not. That'd be so uncivilized.

Onward, homeward!

And this. By golly http://www.stockholmghostwalk.com/ A mix between actual events, like the Stocholm blood bath and stories about ghosts. Special events for Halloween naturally. As if Old Town wasn't scary enough as it is. Nice website too. The Jack the Ripper people should take a lesson from them. Stylish and bloody.

Speaking of blood. How about Romania? Bran Castle museum

http://www.brancastlemuseum.ro/indexfrm_en.htm. So what if vampires are just a myth? It still looks scary as hell, and at the same time suprisngly pretty. The whole setting seems lovely. And it does give you a sense of history, doesn't it? All myths start somewhere and for some kind of reason. I would love for there to be some kind of mystery left in the world that we haven't discovered yet. I'm doubting it's so however. It's a common theme in culture, the blood thirsty monsters. What can be more interesting to ponder is what they represent to us, our darker side, or just that uncivilized bit that craves the blood of innocent victims? Or maybe we simply wish we had a good reason to not be out of bed during the day and we could safely hide in the dark and be feared for what's not known about us.

Then I have a couple of recommendations if you're into bones and skulls and stuff. The first one is Catacombs of Paris museum http://www.catacombes-de-paris.fr/english.htm But they're closed. For Halloween. How odd is that?

The second one is http://www.cappucciniviaveneto.it/cappuccini_ing.html. Apperantly the munks brought the bones with them in 1631 when they moved, they're the bones of past monks. How bizarre. But it seems some people like bones... Yes, that's what the pattern is made from. Human bones. Hey, at least they found a good use for them!

Other people's blogs

It can be an amazing trip to be invited into the head of someone else, so many write about fun, interesting and mindboggling things. At times I think the only reason I blog myself is so that I can feel that my writing isn't good enough for much of at, but then I come across the ones that make me giggle. Maybe not always the contents, well, yeah, often the content, and the picture it forms in my head of the writers.

Concider this (one) my bitch post(s). There are two bloggers that I'm thinking about especially. I can't say that I really know them, nor do I have a personal relationship with them, so what I'm basing my currect knowledge about them on is their blogs. They do however have a few things in common.
A) They can't spell.
B) They can't punctuate.
C) They badmouth people in their lives.
D) Everything that goes wrong is someone else's fault.
E) They're either completely out of money or have lots of it and buy, what I would concider to be, unnessecary things.
F) They have bad taste in music.
E) Their English is pitiful.
G) They both bred at an early age
H) They are in complicated relationships.

They've become my real life soap opera! There's always some kind of disaster, and the bad typing, spelling and grammar just makes it one big joke.

What I'm wondering about though, is if they realize just how foolish it looks to some. I know what they wear, eat, think about, watch on tv and how their relationships are doing. Perhaps some things are best kept private, or perhaps it's just a sign that these people have nothing else going on in their heads apart from themselves. I won't even start about the pictures posted...

I shouldn't judge, I'm really no better myself, but at the same time I know that anger fades and there's no point in blurting out things you'll regret later, not only about other people, but about yourself as well. Just because noone's looking at you when you're confessing doesn't mean noone hears you.

A song

A tree

Generations

A generation isn't the time from when one is born to another, perhaps it used to be, but surely now a generation is a group of people who grew up with the same children's shows, same toys, same music and fashions. A generation in this sense forms within a gap of four or five years.

Mine starts somewhere after Vilse i pannkakan and ends somewhere before Dawson's creek. I'm quite glad I could see the irony of Barbie girl while it was a hit, not quite so content with the fact that I for a brief period listened to Lili & Sussi. I was a child, please forgive my ignorance. My little ponies, Care bears, remember when summer lasted forever?

My time was somewhere in the mid 90's, perhaps early 90's, that's where I shaped my tastes the most. I was still young and impressionable. So yes, I wore big shoes and knitted sweaters at times. Bright colours at others. It was Radiohead, Oasis, Blur and Nirvana. Remember My so called life? Remember portable CD-players? Remember those days on the train with stained seats and trees rushing by taking you far into the heart of dakness?

How does a generation with themesongs titled Loser and Creep ever make it?

Point taken and reconstructed

At times it's important to understand the logic in statements you don't agree with. Take it as a test, to argue for the opposite political view. You'll be able to see something new in your own convictions and you might also grow to respect your counterparts more.

The sad fact is that we can't always agree on everything. No two people can ever agree on everything, and for some reason it's the louder party that comes out on top. For that I apologize. I read this http://www.dagensarbete.se/home/da/home.NSF/unid/52DF5EEAB183030FC12570EA00354523?OpenDocument and I noticed I am a bit like that at times. But in my defense, it's something I've grown into over some time. In fact, I used to be the complete opposite, I used to listen, and know what was being said was complete BS, but I didn't speak up. Now I do, most of the time.

For those of you who still haven't learned Swedish, it's about besserwissers, or know-it-alls. Those who correct you when you're wrong or always need to top your story. You know you hate them. I don't try to top stories though, but from my perspective, why should I listen to someone lecturing about things and being completely wrong? That's the basis of it for me. I spent years and years and years listening to reasoning, and when someone tells you to listen to "reason" what they're really saying is that their point is more important that yours and you're a bit dumb for thinking about it your own way.

I try not to interrupt opinions, everyone's entitled to have an opinion or two, but it's when that opinion is based on incorrect facts that I like to put my two cents in. For example, I'll make it easy, or easy enough.
- Dracula is a great movie!
- Did you know it was a book to begin with?
- No.
- Oh, well, I prefer the book myself.
(a bit tacky of an example. You must have lived under a rock on the moon not to know Dracula was a book first...) Símple as that. I like facts and opinions. I like opinions based on facts more than anything. You can't argue with emotions. It drives me nuts when someone uses "I feel ..." as a part of an argument.

I don't mean to sound like a complete inconciderate jerk here, I just don't have the patience to listen to stuff I don't care about, and to me, my opinion matters more than yours, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of seeing it from your perspective. You should try it sometime! "I hear what you're saying, but I don't agree, and I have no intrest in discussing it further."

Nightmares worth publishing.

At times I'm rather convinced I'm at my very best when I'm sleeping. I have vidid interesting dreams inlcuding music, irony and get this, several plots in the same dream. Maybe I'm injured by what I spend my days doing, but even when I woke up crying from fear I thought to myself, in that brief moment before you decide you're too tired to do anything other than falling asleep, I should really work on this and make it a good story. Shit pommes frites, think I remember all the details? Hardly. But it was scary. Very scary, it's that nearly untouchable that makes it unbearable. Not quite knowing what's going on but at the same time being fully aware. Yes, I do see the connections to the hours I spend being awake.

The thing was, that even though I managed to fall back asleep I had another nightmare, even worse than before. I don't know how it is when everyone else is dreaming as I am after all, and thankfully, only capable of being in my own head, but I somehow felt the breath of a rotting zombie on my neck and I looked in the eyes of warewolves while I could smell them. I could feel the boys pain while be was being raped in a barn, I could touch the cold metal of the bus that had been rushing towards me when I jumped to the side and reached my hand out. I couldn't save the boy, the passengers nor the teenagers dressed in neon colours who fell prey to zombies and warewolves. But I could hide, I could spot the hero in my devil haunted scenario. It was someone with a knife and a suit. Blood splattering all over the crisp white shirt as he panted from exhaustion, one by one he slit them open and their reaking flesh covered the perfectly shaped gardens.

I didn't see power in him, I saw frustration and fear. The same as I felt, I was desperate to call out to him, to tell him he wasn't by himself, but I was too scared to give away my hiding spot close to a brick wall and I was painfully aware that if I moved I'd be spotted by the creature lurking on the other side of the hedge, pining for my blood. So instead I watched him in his endless fight, hoping it would end soon. It didn't. It lasted for what felt like an eternity while he grew more and more tired, it began to appear to me that he would stop, he couldn't do this on his own, and no matter how hard I would have tried I wouldn't be able to help him more. We were all going to expire before the sun was up.

As I had come to the conclusion that I was going to die regardless I got up and started running, into the battlefield filled with people and creatures, I slipped on their bowels, their brains, tripped over their limbs and skulls. I fell and slid in the still warm mess and landed by his feet and looked him in the eyes realizing he was one of them. His cheeks were but sunk in black holes and his chest was open making his shirt stick to his organs, and he only said one thing "I'm sorry, I had to get you to come out" and then he stabbed me. I could see the blade penetrating my skin and even though it was pain in a manner I have never before experianced I laughed, a raw laughter. I felt important, all these guts and body parts, all this slaughter only to kill me.

As I felt life slipping away from me the battlefield cleared and the sun touched the treetops at last, I closed my eyes and prepared for my death (how many times I've died in dreams I can't bear to count). I felt ok, all I wanted was the madness to end. And it did. I didn't die, and when I woke up the sun was high in the sky and it was as if nothing had happened at all, just a man dressed in a suit pulling a knife out of my chest before he vanished into thin air.

And even though everything seemed ok I heard voices I had the night before, teenagers preparing for the big zombie party at the old barn tonight and I realized my dream hadn't only ended, it had just begun and I was stuck in a crappy movie like Groundhog day. So, the same scenario repeats itself, with small alternations where I try to avoid what's waiting for me, the first time I tried to save the boy from being raped. I failed. The second time I tried to make the teens not go to the party. I failed. The third time I tried to stop the bus from rushing without control. I failed. And the last time I tried to take on the creatures all on my own. I failed at that too. By then I was completely beat and apathetic, but it still wouldn't stop. So yeah, sometimes waking up is good. Waking the dead, not so good.

There is no savior

There seems to be a connection between female independence and religious views. The idea is basically the same, waiting for someone to come fix life for you, may it be the one and only God, with a capital G, or a Soulmate with a capital S.

Both ideas make someone a subject, a submitted subject, and that is one of those things we should never allow ourselves to do, putting your happiness in the hands of a male figure is just half a needle short of disgusting and pitiful. There's nothing wrong with loving someone and finding a level where you work together, but it's the lines such as "I'm waiting for the one to make my life complete" that irk me. There is no savior. Even in religion they say "God help those who help themselves", so why can that be so hard to apply to love?

A couple of weeks back, on an episode of Lyxfällan, there was a woman, 40 years old, that had filled her one room apartment, no bedroom, just one room and a kitchen, with pink decorations and nonsense, she had storage rooms filled with garden furniture for when "the perfect man" came a long and bought her a house, she was in limbo. And for those of you that don't know, Lyxfällan is a show about people with financial troubles, so she was real, this isn't a sitcom. No matter how I'd like her to be made up, she wasn't. She couldn't start living until a man starter her life. Her personality had halted at that of a 20 year old, she wore her hair in pigtails and bit her lip, as if it was to be cute. I felt bad for her but at the same time it angried me to no end.

How can anyone do that to themselves? Just give up the power and not live, all because of someone that may or may not happen. We really know nothing about the future. We don't know who we'll meet and on what day death will find us. Isn't it better to spend each day being glad for what we have?

When things are hard, you can only really count on yourself, and in that I mean, all you can do is to expect only yourself to be there for you. If someone else is by your side that's a bonus, not a right. You have to be fine with who you are, with or without a partner.

Maybe I'm just a cynic, or maybe I'm just realistic. I don't want to carry the troubles of someone else, and I don't expect anyone to carry mine for me. That's just a big of part of love as happiness is. So maybe it just saddens me more than anything when girls/women/females give up their human right to be a pillar of their own.

The general public.

How general is a public, generally, so to speak? No matter how you do statistics there's always someone who doesn't fit in. And even if you concider yourself kind of average there's always some kind of number telling you that you aren't.

In general, to get a more complete picture of something you need to look at more factors and take them into concideration, but when it comes to being general and common it just marginalizes more people. A tad ironic.

A general example; these things are concidered a pretty average thing a job, a partner, a car, a house, a tv, a child, a pet. Nothing extraordinary there. If you look at them individually, at a certain age a majority tend to have them, but if you add them up together the differential increases. If you start with the first, job, let's say 90% have one (keep in mind, I really don't know the numbers, I'm just making them up as I go along to prove some kind of point). That exludes 10% of the population. Then the second factor, a partner let's say 70% of the people with a job have a partner, then it excludes 30% of the remaining 80% leaving 56% of the general public (of course in this example I'm using adults, at a working age, right there I'm exluding big parts, the retired, the young and the sick). Third factor, a car. Depending on where you live, hm, maybe 75% have a car, so yet again 25% are excluded, leaving 40.5% of the initial group. Already below average. Then for the forth, a house, it's not the luxury of everyone to have a house, so let's say 50%, that leaves 22.5% of the group we started with. Then, the fifth, children, hm, let's take a high number, I think my point is still coming across, so 90%! Then it's 20.6% still clinging to the common. And for the sixth, tv, it's safe to say at least 99% have that, even if they have it on their computer, leaving pretty evenly 20%. And my favorite, a pet, number seven, I know that at least in Sweden about 80% of households have a pet, so I'll go with that, leaving us with a total score of 16%. Pardon my math and numbers at times pulled out of the air, it's just an example, not actual science...

In general, what I'm trying to say here is that that no matter how common factors are and how common a population seems, it's not as homogen as that. Not at all, only a rather small percentage fits into the mould. So being common is nothing other than being an outsider. The rebels aren't rebels, and the white picket fence is nothing but a symbol, like a fairy tale.

So generally, when people like to call upon the general public to support an argument, maybe what they really mean is that they don't have any facts other than their own feelings and thoughts to back it up.

Nobel peace prize 2009

I don't know... I mean anything is better than George W. Bush I suppose, but to give the next president the peace prize?

Is this just one giant middle finger to the right wing conservatives of the US from Europe? I think I'm going to have to concider it as just that. The peace prize is a hot potato as it is, it's hard to find a political ground where no trouble is started. Even though I can understand why it's around and why it's so important that it's around it might just stirr things that don't need to be stirred. Also to give it to Barack Obama...isn't that kind of like grading the student before the test is handed out? He hasn't even been in office for a full year!

Or maybe, it should be viewed as a plea to the American public to value peace higher than war, and stop honoring the professional killers they send abroad.

Nobel prize in literature 2009

Ah how darling to listen to it, Herta Müller. "who, with the concentration of poetry and the frankness of prose, depicts the landscape of the dispossessed"

I'd lie if I said I've read her books, I'll be frank and say I haven't. But, I will. How can one resist titles like The devil is sitting in the mirror, The pale gentlemen with their espresso cups, Traveling on one leg and A warm potato is a warm bed. Pardon the bad translations...

Congratulations! (no, I'm not jealous)

New Kent!

The new single Töntarna will be released physically on October 12, and the digital version was out yesterday. The new album Röd will come on November 6th.

It's been too long Kent. I need you to soundtrack my life! But thank you, it's better late than never. Life's different now from last time I got the kentrush. Thank you for that too.

Some words on the way

Welcome to the Molly helpcentral. We don't help mollies, we have a Molly on duty to serve you and today she offers the following advice.

First off, turn this on


Nutritional:
Eat a pear.

Physical:
Enjoy your shape and breathe.

Philisophical:
Worry just as much as you feel the need for, but if enough things tell you there's nothing to worry about you probably shouldn't.

Intellectual:
Angles

Beauty:
Shape your eyebrows

That's it, pretty much. Yep. I think so.

No man is an island

It seems, at times when we try to do the right thing it ends up wrong from a different angle. Oh sweet higher powers how I was that one without the ability to see things from other perspectives. I wish I was selfish. Even when I really want something I try not to always get my way because I know that in the long run it wouldn't benefit me. What good is it to get my way when it will come back to haunt me when I might want something even more.

What brought this on? I asked a favour to make life easier for someone I care about, and in doing so I had to make life more difficult for someone else. But the one I'm really making life difficult for is myself. If I could only, for a day or two make that voice in my head be quiet, the little voice of constant reason. Needless to say I never understood the illustration of a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, it's not that simple. It's more of a sky sinking down and crushing every bone in my body and I become a wet spot. When I start pacing I know it's come. When I want to cry I know it's here. But I can't cry, I can't surrender, I have to fix it. Have to make everything work out.

"I know they mean well" What's in an intention? Really. Absolutley nothing. What's having one's heart in the right place? If you don't stop and concider that bigger picture it's fireing a gun, killing a president and starting a war because you wanted to help someone clean up. I detest asking for things, even though I collect good deeds I'd like to say I do for others, but my accounts are running out, and I have nowhere to turn because I ask for favours on such rare occations that it seems like a bigger deal than it is.

I want to take care of myself, I want to take care of those I love, but I don't want anyone to care for me and I have a problem with letting people in, I don't want to be that weak burden that needs picking up.

In all honesty, I feel humiliated by having to ask for help, even if my heart was in the right place. (See how that doesn't make me feel any better?)

Damn Norweigans!

First they win the Eurovision song contest and now this http://hdr.undp.org/en/media/HDR_2009_EN_Summary.pdf, Norway is the highest ranked country in life expectancy, BNP per capita and education. Oh well. The numbers are based on 2007 so the effects of the financial crisis aren't part of it, which would explain Iceland's 3rd place. But my hat is off, now all I can do is educate myself further and make more money to try to beat them next time. But we'll never beat Norway, they aren't part of the EU, the lucky bastards. So I'm gonna have to sit here, with our 7th place while someone else decides what's best for me.

Though it does amuse me a bit that the US doesn't pop up until 13th place. Why it amuses me, I don't know.

There is a couple of things I think the UN should also take into concideration while they're making a list of quality of life, as this list basically is, how about investigating how many people per household? How many homeless? How many people with access to adequate healthcare? How about affordable daycares? How many per cent of women work full time? How much maternity/paternity leave? Access to libraries? Public transportations? What about enviromental factors like the state of the soil, water and air? The BNP per capita may say a lot, but it doesn't say that much about how much money is spent. How far do those thousands of dollars actually go? In some places you simply need more money to pay for the most basic of needs.

Because surely, those things matter just as much, or more than university degrees, people can be happy without a Phd in bullshit, while I think it's harder to be happy when you're not feeling entirely safe.

A tidy home makes for a tidy mind?

Sometimes I wonder about connections. At times I see these hyper made up people, but still with some kind of natural charm and I wonder what their homes look like, are they as tidy as the people who live there? Are their bankaccounts tidy? Their binges at the brink of being perfect? Simply does the perfection extend to all areas of life?

I clean mostly when I'm about to have people over and yes, I do tend to fix other stuff about myself at those times, even though it might have more to do with the company. Not so that I don't clean unless I'm having company, but I do the silly stuff, like wipe the floorboards with a rag. I can't be the only person that only dusts on top of doors when I'm about to be judged.

In privacy in usually just wear what's comfortable, although I tend to always straighten my hair. I hate when it's curly, I look like a troll! Maybe the straight hair means I empty the dishwasher? Perhaps I should leave it curly and see if the dishes pile up.

Then there's the question of shopping. Do these supertidy people only buy just what they need or do they have freezers full of food they'll never eat too? Do they always buy toilet paper with little patterns on? Do they remember to put the roll on the holder or do they leave it on the sink?

And first and foremost, what are these people hiding? If they seem perfect they surely must hold a deep dark secret, or just something so plain boring as germofobia. Suddenly they don't seem that interesting at all. I can see statues at the museum and I can google pics of perfect homes, while I'm the only one with occationally uneven eyebrows and a couch that seems to walk away from the wall without any help at all.