So, in my pursuit, my poursuite, of happines and integrity I am looking around for the optimal web-base photo-sharing community/site/thingy... (Any tips accepted with grinning teeth and crooked eyebrows..).
Added four of my test sites to the links on the side. All the site have been awarded with different pics, mostly old but many unpublished. Pleas give me any feedback you can think of, both for the photos as well as for the sites and their maneuverability, look, feel, anything..
And to the avid readers and my friends, I know you've all been wondering about this woman/goddess that I have ben (ben? who's ben? oh.. been.. noted 2006-04-21) graced with, so I recommend you go to the DropShots account and check out the two photos from the 12/4, depicting said beauty.
Word. Mout.
Another Ani Song
He says he loves her
He says he's changing
And he can keep her warm
And so she sits there like america
Suffering through slow reform
But she'll never get back the time
And the years sneak by
One by one
She is still playing the martyr
I am still praying for revloution
And she still doesn't have what she deserves
But she wakes up smiling every day
She never really expected more
That's just not the way we are raised
And i say to her,
You know,
There's plenty of really great men out there
But she doesn't hear me
She's looking in the mirror
She's fixing her hair
I have to turn away from this terrible drug
I had a bit of a confrontation with my self last night. You see, I was in a situation where everything was right, I mean that all known factors and were beneficial, and yet at what I felt should've been the peak and culmination of a great evening I turned a corner into complete darkness. Clarification: Right after work I met up with some friends, possibly the best, most intimate and kind friends I have here in Uppsala, and we settled in the semi-warming afternoon sun for the years first barbecue. A great meal was ingested. Laughter, smiles and all the kind words were exchanged. The chilling breath of evening ushered us inside and we kept on. Coffee and TV and videogame and guitar and back rub and more of the joking and the laughter. Hours later, I was sitting on the couch feeling completely alone and weird. I lost foothold, and instead of sliding or tripping it meant a stumble into a nothingness. A fall into a bottomless pit. No landing, no wind rushing past. Just empty, dark and quiet
In the dark I sat for a while, bewildered. What had happened. Why was I there, and everyone else outside. And then I felt a familiar breath on my neck. A monster from years past exhaling through fangs of ivory. Not far had I moved. Not far enough from the places I'd been, to escape this monster. But lessons learned are lessons learned. I rose, turned around to face the beast, and backed calmly out the door. I rode my bike through a trembling night home, the beast left sitting on a couch in my friends aparment.
In the dark I sat for a while, bewildered. What had happened. Why was I there, and everyone else outside. And then I felt a familiar breath on my neck. A monster from years past exhaling through fangs of ivory. Not far had I moved. Not far enough from the places I'd been, to escape this monster. But lessons learned are lessons learned. I rose, turned around to face the beast, and backed calmly out the door. I rode my bike through a trembling night home, the beast left sitting on a couch in my friends aparment.
The boy who cried stress
A week ago since last posted.
-
I know a million things are supposed to happend. But I have the Fear, and I want to run a way. It's the way we humans are built, you know. Fight or flight, that is our choice of reactions to any situation. Any situation that is not a simple and habitual chewing of cud. I like the way someone said that the predator without natural enemies would compartmentalise his world. If it moves - it's food. If it doesn't - it's a rock. Well, I am no predator and I feel like I'm surrounded by enemies and natural disaster. Where to run; into the forest fire, or towards the wolves.
I sink down next to a cool and comforting wall. Rock. Rock. Rock.
"It's always like this', he tells himself. 'The Fear and then a rush of Courage and the clean sweet feeling of being born'. He'd read that somewhere in an old western. But the Fear can go on and on until you can't stand it. It's going to break you, and that's when the Fear breaks. You hope." -BurroughsDays seem to pass at an alarming rate. At least when I regard work. Always it becomes harder to actually achieve the goals set for this day, this week. Instead, a headache of guilt and stress settles in my cranium. I see days pass, deadlines approaching like so many brick walls, and all I manage to do is hide in my dreams. The more I need to focus, the less I do. My head is in summer, in norway, on Eire. My arms are paddling water, walking a stick, pulling someone close enough to smell. My hands, my eyes, my nose; all are off on some separate and elusive adventure, leaving only a lonely heart to bear the load of every day life. My stomach tries to help, but only shrivels up and accumulates acids. I need an injection of Now. A realisation of Presence. A shot of adrenaline to the heart, once an hour, to burn me through all these papers, tapdance my fingers through this report.
-
"It suddenly occured to him that he was going to die. Not sooner or later, he knew that of course, but tonight."-
I know a million things are supposed to happend. But I have the Fear, and I want to run a way. It's the way we humans are built, you know. Fight or flight, that is our choice of reactions to any situation. Any situation that is not a simple and habitual chewing of cud. I like the way someone said that the predator without natural enemies would compartmentalise his world. If it moves - it's food. If it doesn't - it's a rock. Well, I am no predator and I feel like I'm surrounded by enemies and natural disaster. Where to run; into the forest fire, or towards the wolves.
I sink down next to a cool and comforting wall. Rock. Rock. Rock.
Beeefcake!
Well, I'll just let my guard down here for a second and say that
I wish she would just call
I wish she would just call
Lately I'm listening an obscene amount to
I wish she would just call
I wish she would just call
Lately I'm listening an obscene amount to
Diane Cluck:
"And red ants are moving with their sick and withered comrades
They carry the bodies of the withered in their mouths
Because it is no big deal
Hey, what else is there to do
But set your sight on something and pull your tangles through
Oh I would have gone crooked but for you
-
Hey I feel steady and I feel good
Light and emptied of last night's food
Theres a mountain ahead
When I'm ready to go up from the edge of the turnaround road"
How to jump the Grand Canyon with an office chair
Yesterday my lady left the country for the Isle of Green, Eire. I'm stupid enough not to get what's happening yet, and so I am still not on the floor, crying. Maybe I wont be. Maybe now, I've suffered through thtat, grown past it, matured. I mean, I realise she's far away, and I wont' see her for a while, but that still is eclipsed by the glowing light of happiness that it is to even know her. To have kissed her. To have held her.
It's scary nonetheless, these months ahead, being forced to face the ever present fact that no one, ever, really can say what's going to be in the future. Something you easily forget when the days are linked like a chain and not separated by a Grand Canyon of Time. I know things will change during this time. I know we both will. But I have no idea what that will mean for our relation. For the chemistry of combustion between us. Was the abyss of her leaving a catalyst to our Love. Or was it an inhibitor. Will things burn brighter next time we mix. Will they simply separate, like oil and vinegar.
"it may look like I'm brooding
not getting much done
but, oh, there is a cure here
the light is very pure here"
It's scary nonetheless, these months ahead, being forced to face the ever present fact that no one, ever, really can say what's going to be in the future. Something you easily forget when the days are linked like a chain and not separated by a Grand Canyon of Time. I know things will change during this time. I know we both will. But I have no idea what that will mean for our relation. For the chemistry of combustion between us. Was the abyss of her leaving a catalyst to our Love. Or was it an inhibitor. Will things burn brighter next time we mix. Will they simply separate, like oil and vinegar.
"it may look like I'm brooding
not getting much done
but, oh, there is a cure here
the light is very pure here"
musings in the morning glory
Waking up
the feeling of emptyness and distance is still with me
it's like my own stomach is rebelling against me
against any sense really
so I need to do something
I turn on the cdplayer
flip to a track I know well
turn the volume well up
and let it echo across the white bare walls of my apartment
so comes the relief of emotion
flood gates open
realisation that what I need is sensitation
sensitation to anything, to everything around me
everything that can become clouded over by dark thoughts
bad self esteem
all these roads I've been down too many times
to have any excuse to go back there
I need a boost
a voice that lifts my chin
and lets me see the light that comes through
reflecting brightness on a virgin cover of snow
So even though my plants are dying
euthanasia
and my things are scattered as if by a smart bomb gone stupid hit my living room
erupted
tossing cds, tshirts, socks, bills, books, cords, newspapers
in all directions
And maybe it's hard
but there's always a choice
what to accept as a mood
and what not to let enter into your mind and take over
I have a million things to enjoy today
can't keep this up
the only thing is i miss the only thing i don't have within arms length
it's strange how someone so quickly can find a place in your life
so naturally
that their absence leaves behind a void
a space only they can fill
-
ah! no more of this brooding and rambling. time for breakfast!
the feeling of emptyness and distance is still with me
it's like my own stomach is rebelling against me
against any sense really
so I need to do something
I turn on the cdplayer
flip to a track I know well
turn the volume well up
and let it echo across the white bare walls of my apartment
so comes the relief of emotion
flood gates open
realisation that what I need is sensitation
sensitation to anything, to everything around me
everything that can become clouded over by dark thoughts
bad self esteem
all these roads I've been down too many times
to have any excuse to go back there
I need a boost
a voice that lifts my chin
and lets me see the light that comes through
reflecting brightness on a virgin cover of snow
So even though my plants are dying
euthanasia
and my things are scattered as if by a smart bomb gone stupid hit my living room
erupted
tossing cds, tshirts, socks, bills, books, cords, newspapers
in all directions
And maybe it's hard
but there's always a choice
what to accept as a mood
and what not to let enter into your mind and take over
I have a million things to enjoy today
can't keep this up
the only thing is i miss the only thing i don't have within arms length
it's strange how someone so quickly can find a place in your life
so naturally
that their absence leaves behind a void
a space only they can fill
-
ah! no more of this brooding and rambling. time for breakfast!
I had so much to say and when i finally had a chance to say it i stood there silent like a dumb m*therf*cker
Right now, it's 1:30 in the morning. I am a bit lonely, tired and out of juice. Lately, I've not had time over to read blogs, write in my blog, read books, write, well not a whole lot of stuff I guess. And the quonundrum is that a bunch of write-worthy stuff has been happening, such as the UN-employee that fell asleep in the irish pub, the first snowboard 180° in 4 years, my new camera, the brick wall ahead with my best shot at a great relationship in .. well.. Its great, let's leave it at that.
Too tired. Next week I'll be going to Oslo.
Some lines through my head lately.
"Les absents ont toujours tort"
"Somewhere between devotion and indifference"
"Querer asi
Yo no soy capaz"
"I try to stay awake
but it's 58 hours since that I last slept with you"
Too tired. Next week I'll be going to Oslo.
Some lines through my head lately.
"Les absents ont toujours tort"
"Somewhere between devotion and indifference"
"Querer asi
Yo no soy capaz"
"I try to stay awake
but it's 58 hours since that I last slept with you"
Steal. Copy. Imitate.
I read this on http://ignoremi.blogspot.com/, but since I could'nt find a proper way to link to it, I just copy-pasted. Feel free to ignore this post.
--->
--->
"Read this on Xin Le's blog. Seems like those emails you forward to others. Have a read anyway.
Five (5) lessons to make you think about the way we treat people.
1 - First Important Lesson - Cleaning Lady.During my second month of college, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions until I read the last one:"What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?"Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50s, but how would I know her name?I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade."Absolutely," said the professor. "In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say "hello."I've never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.
2. - Second Important Lesson - Pickup in the RainOne night, at11:30 p.m., an older African American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 1960s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance, and put her into a taxicab. She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his address and thanked him. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man's door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A special note was attached.. It read: "Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband's bedside just before he passed away... God bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others."
Sincerely,Mrs. Nat King Cole.
3 - Third Important Lesson - Always remember those who serve.In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. "How much is an ice cream sundae?" he asked."Fifty cents," replied the waitress. The little boy pulled is hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it."Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?" he inquired.By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient."Thirty-five cents," she brusquely replied.The little boy again counted his coins."I'll have the plain ice cream," he said.The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies..You see, he couldn't have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.
4 - Fourth Important Lesson. - The obstacle in Our Path.In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the king's wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but none did anything about getting the stone out of the way.Then a peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. After the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many of us never understand!Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.
5 - Fifth Important Lesson - Giving When it Counts...Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare & serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes I'll do it if it will save her." As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheek. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded.He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right away".Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.
bittersweet
Coffee is such a fascinating thing
I mean, I like coffee
and I love expresso
or mocca coffee
but unlike a lot of slightly pedantic people
I would never say that I can only drink espresso
or that coffee should only be drunk black as night
instead
I find
that coffee is such a beautiful thing thanks to all the variations
hot swedish coffee from a thermos with a cheese limpa sandwich on a sunny, snowy slope
a mocca with a lot of warm milk and lots of sugar, in the morning with a sweet cake
an afternoon espresso, one sugar, drunk in one or two mouths
machine coffee, with all it's faults, offering a still moment of contemplation and movement
even instant coffee, to lazy for a pot when I am only one person, has its own charm
like today
when I am at home sick, just waiting for the day to reach a certain point when I have to leave
-
I mean, I like coffee
and I love expresso
or mocca coffee
but unlike a lot of slightly pedantic people
I would never say that I can only drink espresso
or that coffee should only be drunk black as night
instead
I find
that coffee is such a beautiful thing thanks to all the variations
hot swedish coffee from a thermos with a cheese limpa sandwich on a sunny, snowy slope
a mocca with a lot of warm milk and lots of sugar, in the morning with a sweet cake
an afternoon espresso, one sugar, drunk in one or two mouths
machine coffee, with all it's faults, offering a still moment of contemplation and movement
even instant coffee, to lazy for a pot when I am only one person, has its own charm
like today
when I am at home sick, just waiting for the day to reach a certain point when I have to leave
-
Infection
Cups of tea
vitamin C
days worth nothing pass by
no one calls
i've been watching some bad comedy to pass time
Anchorman - bad
The Incredibles - so-so
American Pie presents Band Camp - sucked immensly
tried to play some guitar, but i just get annoyed at the bad sounding Yamaha
i used to think such a thing to be a tragedy
but i would actually have more fun going to work
then i guess, not in this state, when nothing is really any fun
my head hurts slightly, i feel winded, warm, my joints ache
thinking is hard, i can't concentrate
all i want is to sleep, but somehow also to stupidly enjoy this time, watching movies etc.
doesn't work
will go work tomorrow, no matter
got to prepare for next week, giving a talk
today, at least something positive
a mailman forced a package through the mail slot
containing three cds
one of them in a broken cover
ungently handled during shipping
The White Birch . Star is just a sun
Mi and L'Au . Mi and L'Au
Regina Spektor . Soviet Kitsch
just realised the white birch song i so love, satellite, is not on the cd
bugger, but well, it seems good enough anyway
take care
see ya
vitamin C
days worth nothing pass by
no one calls
i've been watching some bad comedy to pass time
Anchorman - bad
The Incredibles - so-so
American Pie presents Band Camp - sucked immensly
tried to play some guitar, but i just get annoyed at the bad sounding Yamaha
i used to think such a thing to be a tragedy
but i would actually have more fun going to work
then i guess, not in this state, when nothing is really any fun
my head hurts slightly, i feel winded, warm, my joints ache
thinking is hard, i can't concentrate
all i want is to sleep, but somehow also to stupidly enjoy this time, watching movies etc.
doesn't work
will go work tomorrow, no matter
got to prepare for next week, giving a talk
today, at least something positive
a mailman forced a package through the mail slot
containing three cds
one of them in a broken cover
ungently handled during shipping
The White Birch . Star is just a sun
Mi and L'Au . Mi and L'Au
Regina Spektor . Soviet Kitsch
just realised the white birch song i so love, satellite, is not on the cd
bugger, but well, it seems good enough anyway
take care
see ya
Duritz
We spend all day getting sober
just hiding from daylight
watching tv
just look a lot better in the blue light
-
i am color blind
coffee black
and egg white
pull me out from inside
i am ready
i am fine
-
we couldn't all be cowboys
so some of us are clowns
A long days journey into night
oboy. if i could write a title like that, i'd be a happy man.
but, wait. i Am a happy man. (albeit, hungover, mortally tired, raspy in the throat,...)
does that mean i can write that title.
-
it's such a great title. i feel likt that's all this day will be. a slow move, a slow motion sequence from a film. watching "this life", an old bbc series. effing amazing. real. good drama. great acting.
-
-
and the light of day is passing by without me. but not unnoticed. it looks like a beautiful day. but people like me stay in. watching tv. feeling better. eating yesterdays crisps, drinking yesterdays cola.
and people like my girlfriend work all day. taking care of people who can't take care of themselves.
who are the people who deal with these days. make them go past. what am i talking about?
-
lunch is looking like a good idea. but then again. the couch is very comfy, and i think i have an episode or two left on the disc.
i thoroughly enjoy this kind of day. except for the feeling that i could've done more with it. this constant pressure of maximising. never wasting a sinlge hour. a single minute. so much i could've done today. and yet, all i look forward to is to go to bed. to sleep. perchance to dream. my dreams have been weird and real lately, so that's an adventure.
-
but, wait. i Am a happy man. (albeit, hungover, mortally tired, raspy in the throat,...)
does that mean i can write that title.
-
it's such a great title. i feel likt that's all this day will be. a slow move, a slow motion sequence from a film. watching "this life", an old bbc series. effing amazing. real. good drama. great acting.
-
'I did not regularly watch This Life, but I caught the final episode and was appalled at the drugs, booze and worst of all, simulated sex between homosexuals... We should complain more often and perhaps our comments would have some weight in preventing such trash being shown.' :Daily Mail
-
and the light of day is passing by without me. but not unnoticed. it looks like a beautiful day. but people like me stay in. watching tv. feeling better. eating yesterdays crisps, drinking yesterdays cola.
and people like my girlfriend work all day. taking care of people who can't take care of themselves.
who are the people who deal with these days. make them go past. what am i talking about?
-
lunch is looking like a good idea. but then again. the couch is very comfy, and i think i have an episode or two left on the disc.
i thoroughly enjoy this kind of day. except for the feeling that i could've done more with it. this constant pressure of maximising. never wasting a sinlge hour. a single minute. so much i could've done today. and yet, all i look forward to is to go to bed. to sleep. perchance to dream. my dreams have been weird and real lately, so that's an adventure.
-
Cufflinks and hub caps/Trofees and paper backs
In spite of the morning post, todays song is Soldier's things by Tom Waits. His lisp scratches my heartstrings like a two-day beard growth.
Does it sting your face to run in the snowstorm
I just handed in the lab hand-in assignment that I have struggled with this week. Or the Hand In Ass, as I like to call it. It was a bitch, but being a phd student just changes your perspective immensly on studying (well, mine anyway), making it so much easier since I'm doing relevant things. Things I want to learn and want to understand, and know WHY I am learning.
I feel a slight cold approaching, but that's what you get (I get.. again with the pronouns..) for swapping saliva with sick people. Was it worth it? Does a cat's lips move when it reads? Yes, it was entirely, profoundly worth it.
Have worked a lot this week so today I am going home early. Picking up my snowboard in town, and then home for some house-cleaning, relocation of furniture, wash-day ("nothing clean, right?"). and some planning for tomorrow, and then, depending on my state of coldness etc. either an early night or something spontaneous.
I feel a slight cold approaching, but that's what you get (I get.. again with the pronouns..) for swapping saliva with sick people. Was it worth it? Does a cat's lips move when it reads? Yes, it was entirely, profoundly worth it.
Have worked a lot this week so today I am going home early. Picking up my snowboard in town, and then home for some house-cleaning, relocation of furniture, wash-day ("nothing clean, right?"). and some planning for tomorrow, and then, depending on my state of coldness etc. either an early night or something spontaneous.
"That's not the electric light my friend
That is your vision growing dim"
Wondering
two years ago
before you felt so familiar
before i could remember
your last name
i remember now
how our bright spring green deepened
with the years the seasons changed
and we were lush as the underside of august
the streets looked like water
they swelled and they shimmered
and they stretch like the sea
and dressed in my best shining skin
and my squinty eyes
i put the miles behind me
and it took us so long to get here
you gotta write between lines
you gotta read between the years
and fleetingly we see ourselves pass
driving a good thing
and wondering how long can it last
-difranco
More dreams
Lately, my dreams are all about failure and dissapointment. There was the Hotel Rwanda/Bird flu scenario, where I made some random act of insecurity as help came, and ended up left behind in a shellshocked tennement building, killer viruses buzzing around, bullets hanging in the air. And then I dreamt (ah..) that I finally got my nikon camera. But when I got my hands on it, it turned out to be used, the text worn off the buttons, the casing rattly. And as I was trying it out, chasing pictures, nothing turned out any good. Every motif I saw slipped through my inept fingers. And then the last one, dreaming that it was already saturday night, and I hadn't prepared anything to eat. People already coming in. As I began to scour the shelves for alcohol, as a way to remedy my bad hosting, strangers started to barge through the door, with long hair and leather jackets. A large bottle of gin broke on the tile floor. Looking at this scene I had a profound sense of doom.
The bassline of addiction
Today, this afternoon, I am drinking too much coffee again. It's like with alcohol. You can see it, feel it, know what is going to happend. But you don't stop it. Don't stop yourself. Why? Indeed. There is something in the consumtion (self destruction), conceptually set apart from the obvious effects (intoxication, exhiliration) that lure you. That lure me. As far as I know, you could be one of those. Who don't. Don't drink coffee. Don't drink alcohol. But I am not one of those. I am weaker in some ways than that, wouldn't say no. Wouldn't say stop. Until I know for sure the damages outweigh the benefits.
Fat Bastards R Us
Goodevening
I'm back in Uppsala after a quick spell in the North. And I feel that I want to write a little something here and now, cuz I suspect that I may be busy during the week.
-
Going up was originally planned to bring my snowboard down here, but in the end that's the one thing I didn't manage... It will be sent to me on tuesday though, so no worries.
Getting up on friday night I learned that both of our (my parents) cars were out of order. My brother picked me up in his girlfriends moms car.. And so, instead of speeding off to a friends house, I had to subvert him into joining me at my folks. He came out and we listened to some vinyl, played cards and chatted away. Mostly, nothing seriuous was said, and time was mostly spent reminiscing about last summers turn around the north of Norway and the Lofoten islands. And dreaming about a Great Return, Norway - the Sequel. Then of course, I had to tell him about my Girl (can I call her "My"? or should it be "the Girl who I am with", or rather more accurately, "the Girl who is with me"?) and I gave him a few choice adjectives to sum up.
Unfortunately he had to leave the next day to go somewhere for a funeral.
And my other best friend living in Övik was - to my surprise and awe - missing, having descended to Dalarna for the (in)famous Vasaloppet cross-country ski race. 15000 people race in this event each year, skiing the 90some km from (eh.. forgot) to Mora, retracing the trek made by the swedish King Vasa in the whateverHundreds (if you want accurate details, I suggest wikipedia.org or why not vasaloppet.se). She clocked 10h:16min as she reached the end. I say, it's bloody insane. But nontheless, or just because of that, it's darned impressive.
Anyway, this left me without friends, or people to hang out with, and I was "stuck" with my parents. Which, I guess, was ok. In that sort of boring way. But being tired and since it was still only for one day basically, it reallly didn't bother me. And chance would have it so that this very weekend was the opening of a friend's art show in the Örnsköldsvik Museeum. So, I went to see this opening, small and intimate as it were, saw some really great art and got to meet some friends of the family that I hadn's seen in a long time.
Then we went home, had dinner and watched the disturbing and good film Hotel Rwanda. I spent most part of the film feeling ill and abused. I am, to be honest, a very badgery coward of a person. I prefer to bury my head in what I like, - smell it, touch it, - and ignore all the horrible things in the world. I say to myself it's to keep from going insane. And watching this movie was quite the opposite to this strategy. And on top of it, all these events are in a sense history, not going on right now and therefore nothing I could possibly influence or change.
And then I went to sleep, but the movie and the newsflashes about the feared bird-flu mutated and joined forces in my mind, creating my first nightmare in what must be close to 20 years. I was in a city, under oppressive occupation and ravished by a horrible and dangerous epidemic spread by birds. I had to get out before it got me. People around were both dying and preforming rebel acts, the enemies in the dream being forged together into One Great Threat. Death. No matter if it was by militia bullets or bacterial invasion, death was the outcome. So we hid in burned out buildings, holding our breath, living crowded together in rooms only accesible by rope-ladders. When finally help came it was under the guide of my professor from work, which is another strange component, and at that time something made me turn back to fetch something I cannot remember what. I ducked back into the hiding place, climbing up to fetch whatever it was. Rushing back, I reached the street but it was empty. In the distance I could se tanks and soldiers moving under a blue, bright sky. But my rescue squad had left, and I was on my own. And so, I woke up.
Weird and wild stuff, and I haven't even been able to compose it well. Also I chose to leave out some very disturbing details.
Today was spent in a car, slowly snaking down the coast in a schizophrenic weather with equally unstable traffic conditions. Now a grid-lock and snowstorm. Now sunny and flowing. Now zero visibility and icy roads.
Finally back home, the long ride made me miss my possible appointment with my Love, so Iäm bitter and bored. And tired.
This weekend I also made the mistake of letting my mother cut my hair. At first I thought, ok, that'll be fine. But it wasn't. So now, back here, I took the kitchen scissors and butchered my head even more. Can you say Bad Idea? No, actually it's better now that this morning, but I'm still unhappy.
Mr.Sweeney says to always finish with a quote, since everything's already been said and probably better by someone else so here goes:
Sleep tight, and don't let the flu-virus wielding bed birds bite
I'm back in Uppsala after a quick spell in the North. And I feel that I want to write a little something here and now, cuz I suspect that I may be busy during the week.
-
Going up was originally planned to bring my snowboard down here, but in the end that's the one thing I didn't manage... It will be sent to me on tuesday though, so no worries.
Getting up on friday night I learned that both of our (my parents) cars were out of order. My brother picked me up in his girlfriends moms car.. And so, instead of speeding off to a friends house, I had to subvert him into joining me at my folks. He came out and we listened to some vinyl, played cards and chatted away. Mostly, nothing seriuous was said, and time was mostly spent reminiscing about last summers turn around the north of Norway and the Lofoten islands. And dreaming about a Great Return, Norway - the Sequel. Then of course, I had to tell him about my Girl (can I call her "My"? or should it be "the Girl who I am with", or rather more accurately, "the Girl who is with me"?) and I gave him a few choice adjectives to sum up.
Unfortunately he had to leave the next day to go somewhere for a funeral.
And my other best friend living in Övik was - to my surprise and awe - missing, having descended to Dalarna for the (in)famous Vasaloppet cross-country ski race. 15000 people race in this event each year, skiing the 90some km from (eh.. forgot) to Mora, retracing the trek made by the swedish King Vasa in the whateverHundreds (if you want accurate details, I suggest wikipedia.org or why not vasaloppet.se). She clocked 10h:16min as she reached the end. I say, it's bloody insane. But nontheless, or just because of that, it's darned impressive.
Anyway, this left me without friends, or people to hang out with, and I was "stuck" with my parents. Which, I guess, was ok. In that sort of boring way. But being tired and since it was still only for one day basically, it reallly didn't bother me. And chance would have it so that this very weekend was the opening of a friend's art show in the Örnsköldsvik Museeum. So, I went to see this opening, small and intimate as it were, saw some really great art and got to meet some friends of the family that I hadn's seen in a long time.
Then we went home, had dinner and watched the disturbing and good film Hotel Rwanda. I spent most part of the film feeling ill and abused. I am, to be honest, a very badgery coward of a person. I prefer to bury my head in what I like, - smell it, touch it, - and ignore all the horrible things in the world. I say to myself it's to keep from going insane. And watching this movie was quite the opposite to this strategy. And on top of it, all these events are in a sense history, not going on right now and therefore nothing I could possibly influence or change.
And then I went to sleep, but the movie and the newsflashes about the feared bird-flu mutated and joined forces in my mind, creating my first nightmare in what must be close to 20 years. I was in a city, under oppressive occupation and ravished by a horrible and dangerous epidemic spread by birds. I had to get out before it got me. People around were both dying and preforming rebel acts, the enemies in the dream being forged together into One Great Threat. Death. No matter if it was by militia bullets or bacterial invasion, death was the outcome. So we hid in burned out buildings, holding our breath, living crowded together in rooms only accesible by rope-ladders. When finally help came it was under the guide of my professor from work, which is another strange component, and at that time something made me turn back to fetch something I cannot remember what. I ducked back into the hiding place, climbing up to fetch whatever it was. Rushing back, I reached the street but it was empty. In the distance I could se tanks and soldiers moving under a blue, bright sky. But my rescue squad had left, and I was on my own. And so, I woke up.
Weird and wild stuff, and I haven't even been able to compose it well. Also I chose to leave out some very disturbing details.
Today was spent in a car, slowly snaking down the coast in a schizophrenic weather with equally unstable traffic conditions. Now a grid-lock and snowstorm. Now sunny and flowing. Now zero visibility and icy roads.
Finally back home, the long ride made me miss my possible appointment with my Love, so Iäm bitter and bored. And tired.
This weekend I also made the mistake of letting my mother cut my hair. At first I thought, ok, that'll be fine. But it wasn't. So now, back here, I took the kitchen scissors and butchered my head even more. Can you say Bad Idea? No, actually it's better now that this morning, but I'm still unhappy.
Mr.Sweeney says to always finish with a quote, since everything's already been said and probably better by someone else so here goes:
Both from "Haunted" by Chuck Palahniuk
"Every apostle or disciple, as much as they're running to follow their savior, they're running just as hard to escape something else"
"Can you pretend to love me for the rest of your life?"
Sleep tight, and don't let the flu-virus wielding bed birds bite
A long line of failures
Whenever you feel down and out, lay the needle down to track 2 side A of Leonard Cohens Death of Ladies Man and be soothed by the soft voice of the man..
Yesterday I went out with a friend who was here visiting, well actually taking a course at the university for His PhD studies. We went bowling and I scored a 151. That is enough to make me happy.
And to top it, earlier that afternoon I went goofing around at the book sale and bought three books. One was a small retrospective of the famous french photographer Robert Doisneau and then another photography book; some sort of anthology of a magazine called "Aperture". Marked down from 550:- to 129:- I just pretty much had to. And then Ibought the book called Motstånd that I've seen or heard something about, but cant't think of what exactly... we'll see what it is.. Glad to have these really nice photo-books though. Some inspiration, waiting for my new camera.
"I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel
you were famous, your heart was a legend.
You told me again you preferred handsome men
but for me you would make an exception.
And clenching your fist for the ones like us
who are oppressed by the figures of beauty,
you fixed yourself, you said,
"Well never mind, we are ugly but we have the music."
I don't mean to suggest that I loved you the best
I can't keep track of each fallen robin
I remeber you well in the Chelsea Hotel
That's all I don't even think of you that often"
Yesterday I went out with a friend who was here visiting, well actually taking a course at the university for His PhD studies. We went bowling and I scored a 151. That is enough to make me happy.
And to top it, earlier that afternoon I went goofing around at the book sale and bought three books. One was a small retrospective of the famous french photographer Robert Doisneau and then another photography book; some sort of anthology of a magazine called "Aperture". Marked down from 550:- to 129:- I just pretty much had to. And then Ibought the book called Motstånd that I've seen or heard something about, but cant't think of what exactly... we'll see what it is.. Glad to have these really nice photo-books though. Some inspiration, waiting for my new camera.
"Diamonds. She'll pretty much have to."
Boring test
| The Free Thinker 69 Anti-Normal Points |
You are quite strange indeed and not very normal at all. You are cool. We have a few things in common, so send me a message. You are very open minded, creative, and intelligent. People like you and secretly want to be you, because of your overwhelming coolness. Just watch out the world doesn't suck out your originality. |
My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The How normal are you Test written by Piscessnake on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test |
Telephone conversation
Terrance:"hello"
Scott:"Terrance,this is Scott"
Terrance:"Oh hey,it`s Scott"
Philip:"Tell him he`s a smelly bastard"
Terrance:Philip says hello Scott"
_Just about the funniest thing i can think of
motioneless in the middle of the floor
I am having a shitty weekend. But only on the inside.
Friday night, went out with some friends to kalmar nation. good fun. missed both the bands cause i was drunk and completely lost in conversation. and also i didn't care about the bands, never having heard of them before. in all i guess it was a good night, i like the people i was with, but i was just a twist to pissed.
which i felt the day after. with a pounding headache i went downtown with my photofriends and joined in a photo-marathon: 12 themes, in order, to be captured on twelve consecutive frames of film. quite a challenge and fun. pictures will be scanned and posted when i have them.
then, last night, we had a photo-party and went out at the norrlands nation. the party was good. and i had a great little pocket of time with my Girl, between the time she left her dinner and when she had to start working. we snuck into a dark, small, upstairs kitchen. metal benches. people passing by outside.
but then, she started working and the night started sucking. the music was horrible. i had gotten sober. i felt out of touch with my friends. and my girl had let slip that she had to meet two other people on sunday, and i felt that cold feeling coming that means we'd not have any time for us. so i went home. to sleep.
and then i've spent this day hoping for her to call. walking a bit in the sun. baking some pastries with my friends. but just feeling like shit.
the Girl did call, but with no invitation or anything. so, now i'm a little grumpy with her, but she promised to make it up to me tomorrow.
i'm not that cool when it comes to being stood up, when it comes to being a low priority. not cool at all. it just drains me.
and then there's the fact that it's february, and i had too much to drink on friday. it just stays with me. drained and gasping for air.
i know it probably doesn't make sense to have this kind of weekend and feel like i feel, but there it is. the Girl is so important, and i just feel like i'm not. yeah. cocky ladiesman, eh?
night
-
i see the moon and the moon sees me
and the moon sees the one i want to see
Friday night, went out with some friends to kalmar nation. good fun. missed both the bands cause i was drunk and completely lost in conversation. and also i didn't care about the bands, never having heard of them before. in all i guess it was a good night, i like the people i was with, but i was just a twist to pissed.
which i felt the day after. with a pounding headache i went downtown with my photofriends and joined in a photo-marathon: 12 themes, in order, to be captured on twelve consecutive frames of film. quite a challenge and fun. pictures will be scanned and posted when i have them.
then, last night, we had a photo-party and went out at the norrlands nation. the party was good. and i had a great little pocket of time with my Girl, between the time she left her dinner and when she had to start working. we snuck into a dark, small, upstairs kitchen. metal benches. people passing by outside.
but then, she started working and the night started sucking. the music was horrible. i had gotten sober. i felt out of touch with my friends. and my girl had let slip that she had to meet two other people on sunday, and i felt that cold feeling coming that means we'd not have any time for us. so i went home. to sleep.
and then i've spent this day hoping for her to call. walking a bit in the sun. baking some pastries with my friends. but just feeling like shit.
the Girl did call, but with no invitation or anything. so, now i'm a little grumpy with her, but she promised to make it up to me tomorrow.
i'm not that cool when it comes to being stood up, when it comes to being a low priority. not cool at all. it just drains me.
and then there's the fact that it's february, and i had too much to drink on friday. it just stays with me. drained and gasping for air.
i know it probably doesn't make sense to have this kind of weekend and feel like i feel, but there it is. the Girl is so important, and i just feel like i'm not. yeah. cocky ladiesman, eh?
night
-
i see the moon and the moon sees me
and the moon sees the one i want to see
Too much caffein
..today. nothing is easy to grip.. i feel jumpy and tired at the same time. . gott agoot ggootatta go. but where I dutnnot know,.. better eet out of the naauighberourhood.. before they hfacall the ppolice .. but i ddindnt meean to do ooit .. it wasnt nt ntpo not muy falt . wehher to fo.. go .. hiidn under the highwsy ofverpass., lcakk lack of provgreess.. all th mucsi is noicesse i nmu y head. radical .. freee and rasdiacal..
if haevte to get to th eapp tlasce thaap t la taggat that plöacace oolapclea´plcpalce plawcppalclplcppp pl pplcpp place plca a plöc´p plca place . to tht place ,. i ened nedd that styuff .. for my heatlh .. have it inunder hcontrlo . uncsd uinder oncntrol .. stop schoutin g oi m right ghere.. tririh tri i ..
call me whe in t its over.. .i cahnt stande the sight.. death is to big for me... he still cant' see or hear anyting . . hewont knwo. call me when itäs over.. ill be att the cafe. dringking coffeee more coffe.. i ca'nt bee here but i wwill stay .. I will stay awaske,,, awake..
at least the sun is shining
if haevte to get to th eapp tlasce thaap t la taggat that plöacace oolapclea´plcpalce plawcppalclplcppp pl pplcpp place plca a plöc´p plca place . to tht place ,. i ened nedd that styuff .. for my heatlh .. have it inunder hcontrlo . uncsd uinder oncntrol .. stop schoutin g oi m right ghere.. tririh tri i ..
call me whe in t its over.. .i cahnt stande the sight.. death is to big for me... he still cant' see or hear anyting . . hewont knwo. call me when itäs over.. ill be att the cafe. dringking coffeee more coffe.. i ca'nt bee here but i wwill stay .. I will stay awaske,,, awake..
at least the sun is shining
Today I got a hug from an engineer
Got back online tonight, after a phone-battle with the technical support from my internet supplier. Well, actually it was more like we were a team, all fighting technology. And we won. Finally the guy on the other side of the line talked to his tech guy and they rebooted the internet switch for our connection. And voilá, now I'm back.
And it was all in a day's work. I've been on a roll all day. Fed up with a machine that's been acting psycotically aver since summer, I started fingering it. And Loe and Behold, I stumbled on... a screw that was loose, causing a short for a position-switch. Well, anyway, a f*cking screw, people. We've had people come from Italy to look at the f*cker... software, hardware, u name it. A screw. Two turns with a phillips, and Robert's your fathers brother... It cracks me up.
Then, as if that was not enough, together with a few collegues we've achieved some outstanding results from an goofy experiment I've performed. Just like that. It's so good that I cannot talk about it because of potential patents etc. Hahahah! You don't know how cool that feels. One of the engineers hugged me.
So, tonight I had a Deanston, played Baldurs Gate II, and did nada else. Will go back in to work tomorrow, to further experiment with that shii-at.
So far, peace, Im out...
And it was all in a day's work. I've been on a roll all day. Fed up with a machine that's been acting psycotically aver since summer, I started fingering it. And Loe and Behold, I stumbled on... a screw that was loose, causing a short for a position-switch. Well, anyway, a f*cking screw, people. We've had people come from Italy to look at the f*cker... software, hardware, u name it. A screw. Two turns with a phillips, and Robert's your fathers brother... It cracks me up.
Then, as if that was not enough, together with a few collegues we've achieved some outstanding results from an goofy experiment I've performed. Just like that. It's so good that I cannot talk about it because of potential patents etc. Hahahah! You don't know how cool that feels. One of the engineers hugged me.
So, tonight I had a Deanston, played Baldurs Gate II, and did nada else. Will go back in to work tomorrow, to further experiment with that shii-at.
So far, peace, Im out...
Check mate
They have cut my internet connection.. I can't reach out from home.. Darkness washed over the Dude.. hopefully back in a few days.. be brave... be strong..
Movie banter
Movie comments.. I get this, I guess you could call it inspiration, when I see soulys blogg. She has the energy to include content now and then and not just blurt out whatever reflections may be the day's. So I want to be that way. I'll try by commenting some films I've seen recently
The best recent film experience must be the formidable "Me and you and everyone we know", if not for it's fantastic title, then for the sheer beauty, the quiet smiles, the lovely story, the actors and the slow humour. I recommend it warmly to all those who are tired of being able to predict every scene, movment and comment of a standard hollywood feature.
An unsurprisingly disappointing film was the warrior film "Jarhead" with it's slightly critical rendering of a Desert Storm survivors confused and un-warlike stay in Iraq. Directed by Sam Mendez, I had expected a better choice of story, and some more depth. But there wasn't a whole lot. Soo in the end, i guess it was entertaining enough, but mostly for some good actors and a few jokes. And, I guess this is were movie-going becomes really a subjective experience, the best part for me was definetely when Tom Waits whisky voice began to whisper "This Box.."
then, on saturday night I was stranded in my apartment with nothing but the TV and my demons to keep me company. Needless to say, I locked my demons in the closet and sat in the living room with the volume up on the tv-set, watching. I ended up watching "Bringing out the Dead" by (I was surprised to read before the film, and still surprised after...) Martin Scorsese. It was the story of a burnout ambulance driver during a few nights in NYC. It was, kinda funny, kinda interesting in a filmmaker type of way, good actors again (Nicolas Cage, Pat Arquette) but there just was no point and no heart. Didn't like it. Wouldn't see it again, which is generally how I rate films in my head. Good films are films you want to see again. Again I was surprised that good directors choose stories that I dont like...
And to end, I want to tie a comment back to the experience of watching "Jarhead". I realised, as I neared the end, that the way movies move me is nowhere near how intensely I experience music. Which is to say that I can easily like or love a movie based on it's music and the way the music is woven into, or set as backdrop to, the story. One example is just "Jarhead" with the one-dur-ful Tom Waits song coming in at just the right moment. To me it was more like that the movie screen gave me an excuse to completely let the song envelop me. Another example is the Spanish film "Piedras", a semi-good drama about couples and love and loss, but which just got a big place in my heart due to a very good soundtrack and the sledgehammer beauty of an Ani Difranco song at just the right moment. Finally there are examples like "My life without me", "A la verticale de l'été" and "Kissing Jessica Stein" whos soundtracks are what brings them from good to Wonderful films.
--In the spirit of the visual media junkie I am.. some Zapp Brannigan memorables...
The best recent film experience must be the formidable "Me and you and everyone we know", if not for it's fantastic title, then for the sheer beauty, the quiet smiles, the lovely story, the actors and the slow humour. I recommend it warmly to all those who are tired of being able to predict every scene, movment and comment of a standard hollywood feature.
An unsurprisingly disappointing film was the warrior film "Jarhead" with it's slightly critical rendering of a Desert Storm survivors confused and un-warlike stay in Iraq. Directed by Sam Mendez, I had expected a better choice of story, and some more depth. But there wasn't a whole lot. Soo in the end, i guess it was entertaining enough, but mostly for some good actors and a few jokes. And, I guess this is were movie-going becomes really a subjective experience, the best part for me was definetely when Tom Waits whisky voice began to whisper "This Box.."
then, on saturday night I was stranded in my apartment with nothing but the TV and my demons to keep me company. Needless to say, I locked my demons in the closet and sat in the living room with the volume up on the tv-set, watching. I ended up watching "Bringing out the Dead" by (I was surprised to read before the film, and still surprised after...) Martin Scorsese. It was the story of a burnout ambulance driver during a few nights in NYC. It was, kinda funny, kinda interesting in a filmmaker type of way, good actors again (Nicolas Cage, Pat Arquette) but there just was no point and no heart. Didn't like it. Wouldn't see it again, which is generally how I rate films in my head. Good films are films you want to see again. Again I was surprised that good directors choose stories that I dont like...
And to end, I want to tie a comment back to the experience of watching "Jarhead". I realised, as I neared the end, that the way movies move me is nowhere near how intensely I experience music. Which is to say that I can easily like or love a movie based on it's music and the way the music is woven into, or set as backdrop to, the story. One example is just "Jarhead" with the one-dur-ful Tom Waits song coming in at just the right moment. To me it was more like that the movie screen gave me an excuse to completely let the song envelop me. Another example is the Spanish film "Piedras", a semi-good drama about couples and love and loss, but which just got a big place in my heart due to a very good soundtrack and the sledgehammer beauty of an Ani Difranco song at just the right moment. Finally there are examples like "My life without me", "A la verticale de l'été" and "Kissing Jessica Stein" whos soundtracks are what brings them from good to Wonderful films.
--In the spirit of the visual media junkie I am.. some Zapp Brannigan memorables...
"If we can hit that bull's-eye, the rest of the dominoes will fall like a house of cards...Checkmate."
"We don't know anything about their race, history, or culture, but one thing's for sure. They stand for everything we stand against."
"if I said you had a beautiful body would you take your pants off and dance around a bit?"
Drömsjuan
This man is my copilot, along with Lrrr, Bender, Stewie, Brian and The Evil Monkey that Lives in Chris' Closet.
Paid to kiss your feet
Pay attention. You will get no second chance.
Friday afternoon. I wish I was a kelloggs cornflake, and I am sooo tired, just fantasising about my bed and sleep, and warmth. But outside, where I have to go now, it's cold and dark, and probably wet and windy as well. And then, of course, it iis friday night and I haave said that I would go out. Which I will, and probably have a good time also, but right now, man, I just want to stand for an hour under a shower, feeling the power of warmth and not the warmth of whisky sours.
Pfff.
oh, folks, but hey what the hell. ignore my complaining please. i am just a fool in love. just a tired little fool, too happy to even be blasé. usually i've always been that kind of dry sarcastic fellow that could bring about laughter by observing some obvious irony. these days, guys, i actually bubble and smile and make people feel good around me. is this something lasting? i really don't know. as far as i have experienced life so far, nothing lasts, not depression, not summer, not love, not christmas, so why should happiness be any different. it will metamorphose, melt, evaporate, sublimate, condense, agglomerate, and then run siropy down the walls of my container.
-
oh, and kick out the jams, m*therf*uckers
-Let's here it from David Gray:
This years love had better last
Heaven knows it's high time
And i've been waiting on my own too long
But when you hold me like you do
It feels so right
I start to forget
How my heart gets torn
When that hurt gets thrown
Feeling like you can't go on
Turning circles when time again
It cuts like a knife oh yeah
If you love me got to know for sure
Cos it takes something more this time
Than sweet sweet lies
Before i open up my arms and fall
Losing all control
Every dream inside my soul
And when you kiss me
On that midnight street
Sweep me off my feet
Singing ain't this life so sweet
This years love had better last
This years love had better last
So whose to worry
If our hearts get torn
When that hurt gets thrown
Don't you know this life goes on
And won't you kiss me
On that midnight street
Sweep me off my feet
Singing ain't this life so sweet
This years love had better last
This years love had better last
This years love had better last
This years love had better last
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