Zodiac

I was born on the 12th of July. So therefore I am cancer. During the circumstances I think that is in a dark and not at all humoristic way kind of funny. Or ironic. Or something like that. A fitting play with words.

I saw something on TV the other night. Some old guy had written a letter about boys growing up to men and men becoming fathers and husbands. Maybe not the best fathers and husbands, but they did their best. That's just it. I haven't done my best. There is so much I could have done if I just had had the energy or the sight or understanding or whatever. If I just had had the guts. The backbone. We've done so much shit to each other and the only reason to it (maybe not the only, but a big reason) is that I havent been able to say when things have hurt me. So much that could have been different. If I just had had the guts to say when I was hurt. To say stop. And I got used to it. Like I always do.

And now I feel like cancer. Now I am cancer.

In a weird way I'm looking forward to leaving, just so I won't be such a cause of pain and problems, because I can't bear that. I've destroyed so much already.

In another way I still don't think I have realized that this is real yet.

With any luck I'll get some professional help in a couple of weeks.

Chicken Race

I wish I could be proud of my weaknesses and faults. No. Not proud. Honest. I wish that I could be honest about them and realize that they are pieces and parts of me. That they are also me. That I wasn't so ashamed of them that I denied them and tried to overcome them by sheer willpower (because that way obviously don't work anymore, if it ever did).

Vik Hädan, Sathanas!

The feeling of crying by yourself, of just giving in to your loss is gone.
It doesn't feel 'good' now.

Mockery By Cards

I copied this from a swedish online journal at helgon.net. I don't know if my translation is that accurate, but you'll just have to live with that.


"Monday May 1 2006:
Each day I feel like I've grown a little, or that I have returned in some way. That I more and more is my own person, that I have seen a bit more of the truth, that I dare a bit more. And each day the rest of humanity feels so far away. I don't know how to explain it but sometimes I feel like I've gone too far and I haven't understood that I have thought something crazy until I've seen other peoples reactions to it. This can be about the most basic things, like concert about your fellow man or something. OK, I sound like a psychopath, but I think that people makes "caring" and "caring about" equal. Did that make it any clearer? Nah, didn't think so. I actually don't know what I want to say more than that I don't think I have reached my destination yet. Not at all. And that scares me a bit, considering how alone I feel. But I guess that is the price you have to pay. That and the feeling of being inferior to so many intelligent people scares me. But what scares me even more is the feeling of being the only one that understands. Do any of you feel this way? I feel like I'm up in a flagpole and these two feelings (along with a lot of others) are winds that threatens to blow me of the flagpole. Sometimes I suspect that I'm going to have a psychosis but then I change my mind. Not because it would be totally improbable but because in some way it would be flattering and I have not deserved it...

I know this sounds really serious and fucked up, but I am not crazy and I am not an emotional wreck. I'm just thinking.

I think that tarot reading fucked with my head a bit. But in a good way. Pretty flattering in some ways. And truthful in others."


Fucking hell... I remember that tarot reading and in retrospect it is more of a mockery.

Fucking hell... The mistakes of my fucked up life is really like a little parade in front of me all the time. I mean, this was written almost 2 years ago! How could I NOT see how fucked up I was or was going to be?


Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. I really really hate it and despise myself right now. Weak little shit.

Boss Nigger

Stuff like this brightens your day:


Not that this video had anything to do with it, but I went from bad to OK in about 3 seconds. Amazing what a little private writing does for the soul.

Time to go to sleep. I feel like I could sleep for a century. It feels pretty good, actually.

Ol' Blue Eyes

I had a nice evening last night. A bit strange, but nice. It left me with a kind of weird feeling, though. I know I am not a hater and I know that it is not hard to make me forgive, genuinly forgive. But at times (and especially now) those aspects of myself make me wonder how real my feelings are. Especially since it makes me happy to know that she's happy. It really does. But is that feeling in conflict with my sadness? It also makes me wonder (and this genuinly concerns me) if I let people in? The past months have shown me that I don't, but I don't want to think that the fact that I can and will forgive this is because I didn't let anyone close enough to hurt me.

On the other hand I haven't exactely gone through this emotionally unscathed, to say the least.

And it also makes me wonder about the flagellant thing... I don't know I don't know I don't know anything. Is forgiving a way to let go? Am I forgiving for my sake or for someone elses? Have I really forgiven anyone? Do I get some kind of pleasure of putting my head on the proverbial block? I think I do at times. I think it is my way of letting everything be. I'm just worried that it is a cheap way out, that it is a cowardly way out.

When I am happy (or at least not as down as I usually is/was) it feels like I don't remember my feelings. I can think back on the night when I was down on the kitchen floor crying and screaming and I don't remember what it felt like. Well, sure I remember what I felt, I just don't feel it. It feels like I'm outside looking in. It has always been like that. I have always been like that. Sometimes it makes me wonder what I am. Who I am. I don't know about that one either. I hate that I don't know myself, because it makes me feel that nobody else can know me. Truely know me. I had a talk with darling S. about that and she feels the same way about herself. It feels weird. And it feels weird that it seems that we are so alike that I wonder if we can help each other. And especially if we can do it now. The next month will be interesting, though.


So, with all this in mind it was actually something of a relief to feel all the sadness I have felt today, to be the little mess I am today. Pretty fucking weird, huh?

Today I put on a Frank Sinatra album in the store and spontaniously, to my own surprise, burst into tears when "I did it my way" came on. It reminds me of my grandmother (on my fathers side). She died some years ago and I haven't cried for her. It didn't really make any difference for me if she was alive or dead. We weren't close at all. I was actually sadder because I saw my father cry at the funeral (I can't remember ever having seen him cry, before or after) than I was at the loss of her. Anyway, she had a couple of requests for her funeral: no psalms, no religious mumbo jumbo and they had to play "I did it my way." So that song is very much her song. It really surprised me that that song had such an effect on me today. It really surprised me that as I came to think of her I realized I missed her.

These last three months have been hell, in every way imaginable. Everything in my life has changed. But weirdly enough, it feels like this is the first time in over a year that I actually feel anything. I feel human. I feel real feelings. Sure, they are awful, but I see them and I feel them and I dare to acknowledge their existance.

I talked a bit to N. about that. And about feelings. And about break ups. And about life. It seems that we both pretty much went through the same thing, although her situation was worse.


"For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels
and not the words of one who kneels"




On a related, but different note... I feel very naked. Not really physically naked, but I feel like I'm the naked emperor, sort of. Or will be. I don't know, I don't think I can explain it any better than that.

I feel so small right now.

But this to shall pass.

Rope

But whaddayaknow? I went to sleep and slept undistrubed and without waking for maybe 6 hours. Even Suzies rummaging woke me up. And the anger from last night and all the other nasty feelings have given way to a clearer way of thinking right now.

Time to take a shower and go to work.

Furoris

I'm starting to feel annoyed, pissed of and a bit taken for granted.

This is not an OK night. Demons everywhere.

Hell...

I've deleted everything in this entry. It was just full of apologies. Full of me saying I'm sorry for big and little things. Everything I could remember. But then I felt that it became a bit to personal in respect to other peoples feelings. I mean, if I am going to say that I'm sorry for something specific I must say what that specific thing is. And those things are not mine to disclose. Plus, I should apologize in person.

It's just... I'm sorry. For a lot of things (some worse than others) and to a lot of people (some better than others).









NP: Thåström - Fan Fan Fan






Blääääääääääääh! I just want to scream.

Can your pussy do the dog?

Right now I miss him to death. But I don't know... Earlier today I tried to cuddle with him but he just walked away and laid down next to his sister and tucked his head in into her belly and it just broke my heart a bit. But I caught up with him later and then he seemed pleased to see me. I guess and hope he was just pissed of at me.

I don't know. I feel like I'm writing the wrong things here. I don't know I don't know I don't know... It's so hard to let it burn. It's so hard to see this situation and just let it be. Just let whatever amount of control you could have or could be given go out the window. It's hard to be happy for someone else right now, although in reality I am.

Maybe I'm just selfish.

God, I'm bored. No, I am not bored, but I have a need to be distracted and for about 4 hours I'm going to have to fix that all by my self.

Rip

I wrote a little something in my livejournal, and I don't really know why I wrote it there. It just came out I guess. Or something. So I figured I might publish parts of it here.



Mentally, I don't really know what is happening. I think I might finally be on the track to letting go, and in some ways that makes me even sadder. I guess that I've come to realize that I can't fight this. Or maybe I don't have the energy to fight this, to fight this fire. So I just let it burn. Burn itself out and just... I don't know. Just try to let it be. In a strange way I feel like I'm trying to settle my affairs, like I'm writing some sort of will. Have everything fixed before departure. Not just in a practical manner, but in an emotional manner (hence my behaviour 5 days ago when I gave gifts, or maybe rather some sort of peace offerings. Probably not something too common in this century. Maybe. It was an act that had more to do with me giving than anyone receiving.). I don't want to have any debts left unpaid. I guess this might sound quite depressing, but it isn't. Well, the situation is but my acts are not. For me they are an honorable way out, and I guess in some way I have to do it just to get some peace. At least that is what it feels like now. I guess that what I am trying to say is that I am trying to be something of a gentleman and a man of honour, but I might not be so honourable since (as I said) it has more to do with me doing this for myself than me doing this for anyone else. I don't know. In some ways I guess I am an emotional flagellant or something, but right now it feels right. I guess in the end it comes down to some sort of manly pride or manly ritual or something like that. Maybe it is just me. Maybe it's jut the fact that now it is just the loss , the sadness of the loss and my ways of dealing with it left. I've sort of left everything else behind. Just letting it burn, hoping that something can be salvaged from the ashes.

I get very poetic late at night, don't I? Very dramatic.


So, I am home right now. Can't relax here either. The cats are breaking my heart, but what can you expect from cats? It doesn't feel right here. I feel like a stranger. But it is not that unexpected, is it? This won't be my home soon enough. I will be a stranger to these rooms. And I guess it will be alright, some way down the line. Now it just feels heavy.

And this immense wall of problems just came tumbling down a bit. I guess I have learned to hold the worst back, but still... Sometimes I hate this town. I feel like I'm barely holding on to the world. It is not as bad as it once was, but enough to breed and feed a demon in my stomach.

The big problem is that I just feel my old problems coming back. The fear of the world, the ostrich attitude. I mean, I guess they never really leaved me, but they are becoming more dominant and I am tired.

God, I miss it when it was good. But it is as it is.

Fuck i'm blind and stupid sometimes. A fucking idiot.

heh...

Do you see how A: the two latest Project posts contradict each other a bit, and B: how little I must have slept during the nights? I actually only sleep good during the days. Preferably like 6 to 14. Although lately it has been more like 6 to 10. I think it is called exhaustion, you know?

Did a teeny tiny bit of revisionism to the latest Project post, too.

I am so tired.


moar humorous pics

The New Project XII

I have had a problem with people. They scare me. Or, they scared me. Especially when I've/I'd been out with someone I care about (my cats, my brother, L.), because I have felt like I might (/will) end up in a situation where I might have to protect them or stand up for them. And I don't like confrontations, especially since I know myself so good that I know that under those circumstances I am not the most balanced creature and may very well act totally wrong and will probably have misinterpreted the situation toally. And when that has happened it has always bugged me. For a long time. I have lain awake for nights in a row thinking about how I've treated a stranger just because they did some stupid shit, some stupid mistake, did something that did not deserve me trying to verbally rip them a new one. Just about everytime I've been out and about during 2007 and 2006 I have been sure that something bad was going to happen and it would be my responsibility to stand my ground, to give it back, to protect. "Never surrender, never give in, never let the enemy win" as Blitz once put it. *

So I've secluded myself. Because it has been such a horrible feeling, knowing that something will happen one of these days, knowing that I would feel even more worthless if I didn't stand my ground against the smallest trespassing against my loved ones. I hate that feeling. Constanly on my guard, constantly having the wall built high, constantly protecting myself against everything, constantly feeling like I have to, like I couldn't live with myself if I wasn't. So I made sure that I wouldn't risk being confronted with those situations unless I had to.

So I guess I built the wall against everything and everyone. Because she seeing me week, she seeing me like that... I don't know. It shouldn't be a problem, it shouldn't have been a problem. But it was.

People scared me (they still do, but I got bigger problems now). And I despised them. I despised them for being dead creatures. The thing is, I wasn't (and isn't) any better. I killed myself. I died behind those walls. I built them so high the sun couldn't reach over them. And it hurt so much I built them even higher, telling myself I could only depend on myself, I could only depend on what I wanted to be, what I built/pressed into the mold. And it made me blind. Just as the sun couldn't reach over the walls, I couldn't see over them.

I have been so incredibly angry, and afraid. And I am sorry if any of you have paid the price (I know you did). That is a part of the explanation of why I haven't gone out or anything. Why would I go out and be around people who I despised and feared solely on the basis that I felt that since they where humans they would on some level despise me and I would have to confront that? Why would I go out and spend money on things (ie alcohol) that would only make me feel worse because it would make me do something stupid (or at least something that would make me feel bad the morning after). And then trying not to drink, spending a night out with friends (good friends!) sober and waking up the next day and feeling bad. Bad, because it felt like I imposed myself on them, like I took up too much space. And beeing in places where I should have belonged on some level and only feeling that the majority around me was ignorant idiots living small small lives (not my friends, though.) and couldn't possibly relate or even respect what I was and am and that I had to fake it. And then being in other places where I didn't really belong and definitely felt despised (if I was or wasn't in reality isn't important) just because I thought/felt they really thought I was like the people I mentioned earlier. And then going other places trying something new and feeling that everyone looking at me must know that I am posing and that I am not even doing it good enough...

It just broke my heart. And in the process of trying to avoid that I broke other peoples hearts.

One of the things that make me so sad and angry is that I didn't really see it. I took it for granted. I took it as the way the world worked. It was normal, and the path I was on was maybe not the happiest but it was a path of truth and honesty and not shying away from reality. I really thought that. That the world hated me and that was the way the world worked and all I could do if I wanted to stay honest and true to myself was staring this "truth" in the eye and not shy away. The thing is, I did shy away. It changed me, I guess. I changed myself. I mutilated myself. Chopping of my sensory organs, putting out my eyes because I couldn't stare it in the eye. I had run out of energy. No pride left, or it wasn't enough any more. My back was broke.

And all the other shit like money, work and shit... I don't know. It just got to be so much, realizing that I was (and is) in a material dead end. I remember L. and me having a discussion about this going back to the old place (so this was years ago and I probably wasn't even 23) after a night of some drunkeness and I told her that I felt like my life was over. That I wouldn't (no, couldn't) move anywhere, that I was stuck and this was all there was to it, if I was lucky. That I felt wasted. And I remember her telling me that I wasn't even 25 and I had a whole lot of time to try and do something with my life, trying to cheer me up. I don't remember if she succeeded that night, but I miss that time and I miss that place and I miss that place in time. One of the places I could have broken this chain.

I don't know if I make any sense.


* and yes, I know L. doesn't need anyone to protect her. She can probably protect me better than I can protect her and I know she gets upset even if I try. It isn't about that. It is about the fact that you stand up for the ones you love no matter what, and I was afraid of the consequenses of doing that. It became so extreme, it became so much. There was so much violence and and fear and bad self esteem that I couldn't really take it. I couldn't shake it of, I couldn't shake peoples (eventual) stupidity and malice of me so I was in a spot where I would feel like evil, uncivilized shit if I did something and feel like humiliated shit if I didn't. In the end I couldn't stand up for them when it was needed of me, because I was so afraid. I eliminated the choice, so to speak. I procrastinated away a life.

...and this is something I should have seen ages ago.

Been reading old diary notes from my helgon.net-account. Fuck me. I have been a mess for ages. I really have. They all tend (for more or less several years) to deal with either alcohol, misanthropy, money problems, fear of my life or/and self loathing/hatred.

But they also reminded me of good times. That was nice, actually. And sad.


And I also came to think about some more reasons why things went the way they went. Maybe nothing big, but I remember the feeling and I remember how that feeling made me act and maybe what that lead to.

...this isn't all I see.

The day went by without a hitch, more or less. I spent quite a while crying this morning, but for once it felt good to cry alone. Well, it didn't feel good to have to cry, but you know what I mean. These past months it has been hard for me to cry. I have cried a lot, in places and in times when I didn't really want to, and it has been hard and it has been not enough and it has only come when I can't hold it back anymore. The only times it has been close to enough is when there has been someone there to comfort me, and even then it has been such torment. It has been panic. It has been fear. A fear of accepting. A fear of loss. A fear of opening up, not knowing if you'll be catched when you cant help but fall, not knowing if you'll get help to pick up the pieces (like it's always been). And now it feels like the fear of acceptance and the fear of loss is fading and left is just the loss and the hard facts, and the feelings I have about that. And then it doesn't feel so bad to cry by yourself.

Do I make sense?

It feels... I don't know. It is a different kind of sadness right now. My sadness.

I just fear what tomorrow will bring. Everything still shifts so rapidly. What I want one day contrast against what I feel the other day and vice versa and back again and I really don't know where this will end. And my feelings can really fuck me up. But I will live through that too, in one way or the other. We will live through this, if I have any say and if I can have any kind of control over myself and the situation. But the control over myself has become easier, because I don't feel like I'm fighting right now. Actually fighting, in one way.

I have to get some time of to go to Uppsala. I'm neglecting important people. People who came to me because they felt I needed them, not because I told them or asked them. If there is one good thing I have learned from this it is the fact that there actually is people out there who love me, who care about me. I actually didn't know that. Sure, I know some people like to hang out with me, but that doesn't mean that they'll actually be there for you when it is hard. I hope I can love you all back just as much as you deserve. I hope I can be there for you when you need it. I hope I won't let anyone down. I hope I know what to do and how to do it. And I am sorry, so sorry, for not having seen your pains and not having been able to help you in the past (and that goes out to multiple persons). I am so sorry. I hope I can see and appreciate what you are giving me and what you are trying to do for me.

And I hope I'll find someplace of my own to live. That would be nice.

I got to get rid of that Blasphemy-post one of these days.

Yeah. Well. I guess that is about it for today, then. Time to hit the sack.

Four of Swords

I don't know what to write here anymore.
I feel like The Project is not enough. I must do more, I must do something else. But I don't really know right now how to take it further. There is so much going on and the only one I feel like I can talk to about it or anything... Well, I don't want to make her more sad, I don't want to add to her burden right now. She deserves her peace, and for once, since I realized the need for it, I feel like it actually can wait a little while. In a strange way I feel like I did in the beginning of january, when I just felt like I had been given a pause, a break. I remember sitting in a café and just feel like "nothing has to be done, nothing can be done. You lost the race so just sit down and relax now."

At least that is what it feels like right now. We'll see what happens later. I get so stressed out when I am not at home. It just feels like I'm in a waiting room, waiting to go to work again or something. It feels like that when I am at the old folks place too. Not that I do anything different here or there, but still... It feels different. Harder to relax.

But I guess it is time to let go of the illusions. It has to be done. And now it is, sort of. I actually got a kind of 'good' (well, not as pitch black as they usually are these days) feeling. I hope it stays. I hope I can make it stay. THAT, my friends, is hard.

Just let it burn now. Just let it. Please Alex, just let it burn away.

Alien Light.

Time moves very strange right now. Or, it has moved weird for the last months. It is slow. Very slow. And at the same time so much is happening. All the time, happening. Fucking up, evolving, crying, laughing, fighting, hating, loving, coming to terms, discovering that I have not come to terms and back again in reverse order (or any kind of order you want). Plus, the rest of my life... It feels like I have no time to do stuff either. But I don't do stuff. I work or I walk or I stare at the walls.

I had a nice evening, though. Even though I had no "date" or such Hootchy Kootchy rocked. It always does. I don't think I have ever been to a place where everybody is just there to have fun, where the whole place is just built on the concept of entertaining yourself and where everyone (more or less) makes an effort to make it better, to look better.

Plus I got compliments for 1) my waistcoat, 2) my glasses and 3) my shoes. I think I might have gotten some kind of semi-compliment for my trousers too. It's nice to get compliments there because it sort of means you have pulled it off, you know? Plus I got an invitation (sort of) to some sort of gentlemens club for snazzy dressers, although I don't take the bloke that wanted me that seriously.

Today has not been the best of days, though. But it is OK, I guess. Or will be. It's just hard to constantly realize that this will never be again. It won't come back.



And I want this coat. Precisely this coat.

Man in Black

"Anyone can be a bum. All it takes is the right woman, the right bar and the right friends."

-Bill Hicks

Nowhere Man

It feels like I'm never noticed. If I am in a crowd, I'm not the one you look at. Just one example: even from the periods when I was out and about on clubs or gigs or whatever there are no pictures of me. And if there is, it is because I am with people more 'noticeable'. I've been going to the same place for six years and I don't think I've seen one picture of me there. Not even in pictures taken by friends.
I guess I'm not that full of splendour. I've always dressed kind of discret. Don't want to impose myself on the world. Want people to appreciate the details instead of being flabbergasted by shiny things. I guess that don't work well in pictures. But this feeling of being just tolerated isn't getting better, exactely.

And now my logical reason for being anywhere has gone. And I would make myself invisible to the whole world if she'd just see me again. See ME, like she did.

I get used to things, that is my problem. Both good and bad. Taking things for granted, both depression and love.

I feel shame and humiliation.

*ka-blammo*

...and sometimes you just feel like shooting yourself in the face just because why not?

nah.

The New Project XI

Since we are up to 2 digits I figured I'd up the nerdiness and start using roman numerals. OK? OK. Maybe one day I'll change the old posts, but that would be revisionism and that is being chicken (although I am chicken).

I think about violence alot. To me, all power and all rights and all freedoms boils down to 2 things. Violence and power. And they are the same. The proper use of violence gives you power. Think about it: in the end all our rights and freedoms are guaranteed by the fact that we employ people (cops, soldiers, guards) that have the capability and the right to use violence against those who would trespass against us. Without the possibility to use violence against people who disrespect the use of "rights" and "freedoms" those "rights" and "freedoms" would be useless (I wrote moer about this and Thomas Hobbes some time ago. Check that out, it explains it a bit better.)

So I think about violence a lot. And I hate it. Because I don't like violence. And at the same time I love it. I think it is horrible. But there are so many people in the world that deserves something horrible done to them.

The past year I lay awake several nights every week just tensing up with rage and thinking about hurting people and just NOT BEING ABLE TO FALL ASLEEP. Because I was so angry. And in my head I did things that felt so good and that disgusts me so much. And I felt weak. Because I knew that I couldn't possibly do these things in real life. As in I don't have the physical capacity or know how, not anything else. I am perfectly on the clear that given the right circumstances I could do just about anything to another human being. I just hope that if that happens, when push comes to shove, I will choose death before dishonour. It sounds lame, but that is what it boils down to. I want to die proud. And if I die because I have done something that makes me proud, if that action is my downfall, so be it. So much the better.

I just wonder if I ever can be proud.

Anyway, violence. Other violent thinking that have been taking up my time is the idea of provocation. Of artistic provocation. Of for example the stuff that Watain does, with old rotten blood, rotten carcasses, violence, total fanaticism etc. But when I think about something like that, the very idea to play some sort of metal and do that makes me tired. It isn't the right arena. Blood, guts, violence, bile, rot... It would be considered fun, or "true" or something. It wouldn't really be considered especially shocking. It would be what is expected, although the ante might be upped a bit. I have just felt that I would, in an artistic way, go up on a stage (any kind, not necesarilly fronting a band or anything) and make people feel sick. Feel disgusted. Feel threatened. And it isn't because I hate people. It isn't because I think they are worthless and stupid. Well, yes it is. But it isn't because I want to punish them for their faults. It is because I want to show them to them. I want to raise them up. I want to provoke them into understanding and joining or acting out against what I am doing. Thought and action. I want them to reflect. I want them to feel their safe little way of looking at the world in some way, just for an hour, too feel threatened. If they'd hate me for it, it would be just as appreciated as any other reaction, as long as they react, and as long as they react intellectually.

Do you understand? I have no desire to hurt anyone in the world. Not really. I just want to shake them up and down and scream "CAN'T YOU SEE!? YOUR WORLD IS A LIE! YOUR LIFE IS A LIE! YOU ARE BETTER (and worse) THAN THIS!"

Anyways, thinking like this, seeing this in your dreams and in your thoughts... It fucks you up a bit. I guess.

Hell... I should have shared when it would have made a difference. I guess I was ashamed of myself, of my thoughts. How do you explain to someone you care about that every day you ride the subway you fantasize about how some people would look if you shot them in the head? Not because I want to kill someone, I just wondered. Because it always looks beautiful in movies and intriguing and horrible in crime scene photos. These last weeks, I have been intrigued by the possibility of shooting people through the windscreens of moving cars. Just to see what happens. Would the car stop or would the driver push the pedal to metal as soon as he saw me?

Good thing I can't play Postal on my computer.

Hello Tiger

My grandads Tiger suit. Fits me like a charm. A bit short in the legs, but otherwise perfect (especially the jacket).
I used to wear it all the time in high school, but then I forgot about it and now it is my dads. I think I might have to steal it, or get one just like it made. The colour and the fabric is amazing. Quite rough and black on the greyish side. It is the kind of suit that lasts for a lifetime.

I look so good

I's about to spit!

I actually look like I'm about to spit. Disturbing.

I Have A Sad

Had a bit of... I don't know... Had a hard time falling asleep. Thought about violence a lot. And music. And provocation. In Extremis. Blood, violence and rotten meat.

And then I fell asleep and right before I woke up this morning I dreamt about sex. Made me sad.

I just want to fall asleep and when I wake up all this will be over. Everything. Just enough time to make everything stop hurting.

There are a lot of things I want to write here, that I won't write. Because they won't improve anything. Some misconceptions, some untruths, some feelings left unspoken. But I feel like nothing will change if I let the world know, not for the better anyway. The road we are on must be followed to the end and these things will not help the travels. It might make me feel better, but I have gotten more than I deserve already, so I think I will try and give something back. I owe her so much. Sometimes I can't pay her back, sometimes I break down and she once again has to help pick up the pieces and I am so sorry for that, because I know it is hard enough as it is. But at those times I don't have a choice.

Stars will explode in the sky

But they don't, do they?

I'm going nuts with this blogging-from-the-phone thing. Especially since my computer and phone obviously can't connect.

I'm feeling ill equipped to deal with these feelings, especially musically. The music I'm listening to... It is not mine. I feel like a thief.

In some ways I feel like Grenouille (although I have more in common with Jean-Baptiste in the movie than Jean-Baptiste in the book.). Neither of us really belong. Both of us act a certain way to fit. Neither of us...

Nah. Not tonight.

C U soon, darlings. I miss you. And I do love you.

Crafting

Mom took this picture of me. Proper looking lad, no?
Strange day, but I'm getting used to that feeling. ;-)

Gloom & Doom

Taken with my new phone/camera at the old folks place in the middle of the night. I look fuckin sick, don't I? Sick as in like I have disease, not in any kind of good way.

Other news? Not really. I'm racing with the devil. I feel... I don't know what. Confused? Panicky? No, not so much panic. Strange? I don't know I don't know. I feel erased, I guess. Sort of. Once again I feel like there is no place for me in the world. On top of that I feel like there is no point to me OR this world. But it is OK. It is. I'm OK. Or I will be.

I realized a couple of days ago that old defeats stay with me for a long long time. Things that defeated me in my childhood and that I now have mastered still feels so hard... I still doubt my abilities in those fields. Maybe that is why I don't like to practice at things? Because I will be defeated in the beginning, and it will be the defeats that stay with me. It would also explain my poor social history. If you don't try you don't lose.

And I am a bit peeved because my phone doesn't seem to work with anything but PC's. Fuckers. Allt of them.

The New Project 10

I remembered something horrible. Something I am terribly ashamed of.

I was at this place with two of my fuck up friends. I sort of assumed that they could behave themselves. I really thought that they could, actually. At least enough. But no. It more or less ended up with one of them insulting and the other one just short of threatening a person close to someone close to me. Someone who has never been anything but good and nice. I was so ashamed. Thinking back on it, it might have been some sort of breaking point. I couldn't talk about it as it happened and I still can't because I am so ashamed and I can't look the person in question in the eye and I wonder if I ever really can. I mean, sure, I didn't do anything wrong and I stopped it and all. But still. I guess it is a part of the problem I might have described earlier. That I don't feel good when I have done something good. I only feel bad when I haven't done enough. I don't know where that will lead. Do I have to get stabbed while trying to stand up for a stranger to feel some sense of pride?

God, I am tired of all the machismo bullshit, of all that shit, of all the roles, of all the masks, of all, of everything, of the world, of people.

And I still love them. One of the offenders are one of my best friends and I would die for him if I had to, because he would do the same for me. He is like my brother.

Anyway, it signaled in such a magnificent way that I am a part of something that doesn't know me. And that was OK when it comes to persons that I don't know that closely, because I don't care. But these are close friends of mine (or at least one of them is) and they/he thought it was OK to act like that on my turf among my friends? Fuck that.

On the other hand it clearly showed that I don't/didn't belong there either. It felt like whatever I was I was a part of a group of people that could behave like that just because someone looked in a way they didn't like. Or at least it felt like that was the way people looked at me. And it made me feel ashamed.

The very idea that people might get it into their heads that I am like that makes me ashamed. And the very idea that people might think that based on the way I look, my haircut and the music I listen to make me disgusted. So sometimes I act like offence is the best defence. And that way I make peoples assumptions true. I guess. On the other hand I think the things I think, I like the things I like etc. Should I change that? I rarely think/act/say something just to be obnoxious. Not entirely true, but mostly it is.


I don't know... I feel fucked in the head. I feel cut of in so many ways.

Ogre

I lost all energy now. I was going to fix some stuff today, but it just went pfffft!

Listening to Skinny Puppy for the first time in ages. Only got the "Last Rights" album. Got to check it out more, I think. Maybe.

God, I need to discharge. And recharge. Hell hell hell.

Psychosis Mitosis

I hear music. I swear. I don't know what but it sounds like the radio is on. It's freaking me out, because the radio is not on.

The week has hardly begun and I'm freaking out about working on monday (that's a week from now). But it will work out alright.

I have no doubt that I will survive this and get out at the other end. It's just the simple fact that I don't look forward to pain, you know? And this will sting a bit. But this too shall pass, I guess. And just shit like money, you know? How is that shit going to work out? Hell... Stresses me out. I hate money.

It still bugs me that there is so much I missed. Or overlooked. Or ignored. I don't know which. Bugs me a-fucking-lot. Feels like I didn't even try, ya know? Feels like I spent half of the time trying to create a distance to show that I was my own person, that noone changed me. Stupid little fuck. Better ways to do that. And now I just have memories of me passing up good things out of some sort of stupid sense of pride.


It is interesting how little everything has changed in my heart these past months. It feels the same. The base is the same. It hurts the same. Not as much (or maybe I am used to it), but it is still there. Sometimes I have to go look for it. Most of the time it comes looking for me. And in some ways I welcome it. We are becoming friends, of sorts. But I have to keep it away. It can't visit me too often. It will wreck me.
But in some ways it feels different. It hurts different. But I don't really know what the difference is. I guess I will find that one out one of these days.

You are a hard drug to quit, cookie.

The New Project 9

I rarely feel nostalgic about my childhood. I don't have a lot of toys saved. I don't remember much. I tend to just go past it. I tend to ignore, to forget. I don't look back at think "that was a good thing" or "that was funny." This is to the largest extent true about my school years. I am basically only in any kind of contact with one person from that time. Everyone else has faded into obscurity, and I don't miss them. I'm sorry, I don't. I have worked quite hard on separating my childhood and adolescense from myself, because I didn't like the time and I didn't (and don't) like who I was. But it is a part of me. Nuthin' much to do about that. Ignoring it was obviously a mistake. But how do I make up for lost time? And do I? Can I do that?

I feel like I in some ways has created myself so much. But I have done it like some sort of demiurge, some sort of idiot god that doesn't have the knowledge of what really makes a person a person that vital parts have been missed and/or overlooked. And the end result (although this isn't the end) isn't happy. The end result is not a success. It is half a man. Or like I have been pressing what I thought was shapeless clay into a mold, but it wasn't clay. It was something living that can't grow, can't survive, can't prosper, can't be, can't really exist as itself in the mold. The mold is pain. The mold is bending in akward positions to fit in it, and after a while it becomes unbearable. But to break out and to stretch out and use those now malformed and unused muscles no longer used to and for standing erect is even more painful.

And to think that I have been fighting against other people shaping me, when I have mutilated myself this way. Do you actually know that starting to listen to metal was an (almost) concious decision? Other people found music they could identify with. I chose music that gave me an ideal. How retarded is that? No wonder I hardly listen to music I used to listen to as an adolescent.

The thing is, I don't know what is left. After this, I don't know what is in my life anymore. I'm sure there is something, and probably quite a lot. But what?

Once there was some kind of hope and I felt like I could do this (almost). Now I don't know. But it is as it is. Nothing much to do about it now other than rolling witth the punches, I guess.

I feel like I should do something, say something, but I don't know what. I feel so much, but I don't know what. And I don't know how to let it out. There is a limit to what you can put on other people. Maybe they can take it all, but can I take it? Can I have that weight on me?

I feel sad. And I feel like I have been fooling myself, in some way, and that it has been made abundantly clear now. I know that is not the fact, but that is what it feels like.

Got to call a doctor tomorrow, I think.

Fuckshitfuck

Got money angst now. Hell... Actually managed to stay away from that (and keep my wallet under somewhat control at the same time!), but it just hit me now. As always, I don't know where my last paycheck will come from or if it will come at all or anything.

Usch.

It will work out. It always does. I just wish it could be some smoothness to it.

And my misanthropy is really really bad today. I don't think there has been a single customer that I haven't despised.

Well, in about an hour I'm out of here! Going home, suiting up and visiting friends for free alcohol and probably Guitar Hero or Buzz. And probably a visit to Rocks, too. If nothing better shows up.

Gawd

I can't believe that about 90% of the people coming here from google do it because I wrote something about Blasphemy what seems like a lifetime ago.

I mean, come on! I've written around 180 posts and about 2 deals with Blasphemy. Are they really that interesting that you have to read my shit, that mostly deals with the fact that I think it's incredibly nerdy to release an album in, what was it, 5 different vinyl versions?

Shit.

And most of them google "black metal skin heads", too... Buy the album, read the booklet and you'll know the deal. I seriously doubt that there is anything else to get to know about it. I haven't found it.

Nice night, though. A bit of planning trouble for next weekend but it will work out OK I think. No worries. We'll see, but I plan on not going haywire on scotch this time. Liqour does nothing for good for me (but it taste so goooood!). I wish I was one of those people that could drink and be fun an pleasant (like Johan, who is incredible when sober and amazing when drunk).

Yup yup. Time to go to bed. Looking forward to next weekend, but it looks like my moral support might not show up. Maybe I have to dig deeper into my depleted wallet and make sure she shows up? It will all work out. It always does in one way or the other, doesn't it?

Walk The Line

I'm worried that I'll turn out to someone I don't like. Or rather to turn out to a worse person. I tell that to people and the say "don't do that." How do I avoid it? I didn't want to be the chickenshit I am today, but I am. Despite all the shit that has happened the last months I still am. I don't know, have I changed any at all?

I hope I can keep this shit up even when this is over. I hope I can walk the line.

I need to learn how to be sociable. And I can't believe that I've only been hit on 3 times during the last 6 years. I must be blind and missed a bunch of girl (and boys). I hope that is it, anyway.

Hell, I'm going to cry at work soon. I hate this. Well, it is nothing I haven't done before.

Diabolos In Musica

Music is special. What I look for in music is not something to entertain me. I don't like funny music. I want something to provide me with something extreme and dare me to get through it. I want music to be like a fight, like a fist in the face. I want them to provoke me. I want someone to SAY something to me, to want to communicate something to me. I think that is the problem with a lot of electronic music. I don't feel like someone wants to tell me something. It doesn't feel like a personal challenge. It feels like noise. And I'm not trying to say something insulting with that. I'm not trying to say that the musicians are bad or that they can't write good songs or whatever. I'm just saying that I don't see or hear the musicians. I think that is why I prefer bands with live drums, to be quite frank. Simple trick. Live drums are always a bit untight. People play untight.

I don't know. I guess that if I want to be provoced emotionally in any way it has to be intuitive (meaning, I hear the human behind it) or it has to be quite intellectual (like Laibach). Otherwise I'm bored. I guess that if you like to dance you can enjoy it on another level. But I don't dance. Probably has a lot to do with the fact that I take myself and my facade very seriously. Making a fool of myself is not a possibility. I don't know if I would, but if I think I was I wouldn't enjoy it. So...

Talking about "funny" music, BTW. I'm not trying to say that I only like bands without humor. That is not it at all. But I don't see a line between being serious and having/being fun. Just look at Laibach. Or Einstürzende Neubauten. I think they are funny as hell at times, but that doesn't mean that they are not dead serious at the same time.

But to quote Vim Fuego: "I don't think you can be very funny about metal."
Metal is too often too straightforward, too unintellectual and too serious/"true" to be able to be funny without being plump or stupid. But that is it's strength too. That is why I love it. Very few games. Just a lot of feeling. The pretentions are on a completely different level.

I'm not saying that you can't laugh AT metal. Sure you can. It is easy. But what is the point? You can laugh AT everything. It is just a question of taste. A taste in what you think is funny. Nothing else. Artistic endevours have to be taken for what they are. They have to be looked at subjectively, from the point of what the artwork is supposed to be. They have to be taken as serious artistic explorations. When you have seen them from that point and from the culture that they are meant to work in and you understand or at least accept that you can decide if they work or not. And then you can choose to laugh AT them or WITH them.

Anyway, in the end I hate subcultures (and I love them). Why? because people are sheep. People are idiots. And that goes for every group everywhere every time. You all suck.

The New Project 8

I hate feeling stupid. That's the worst thing in the world. People can think I look bad or smell bad or look gay or not true enough or not manly enough or too macho or whatever and for the most part, I can live with that. Not always, but mostly. In one way or another. But I can't stand when people think I am stupid. When people assume I'm stupid just because I have long hair or whatever. So I have a problem with some things and some people. Well, people in general.

I'm paranoid. I am. I constantly believe that when people on the subway whisper to eachother I am always convinced that it is about me, and not in a good way. I don't think I have ever interpreted anyone looking at me as a compliment. Not for many years, anyway. It never crosses my mind that people might be looking at me because they think I look good or cool or smart or whatever. That is not a possibility in my world. Hence, I always listen to music when I am out and about. To block out the world.

I'm not saying that I want to look "normal", not in any way. I love black, I love looking like I am different (I've actually started to like my hair again). But I don't want to be holed down, niched. I don't want people to look at me and think they KNOW me, know who I am or what I am or what I think or what I do or what I believe in. Sure, in many ways I am stereotypical. One is shaped by ones surroundings. But in so many ways I am not.
At the very least I want the choice. Well, in a perfect world there wouldn't be a need for a choice. But we don't live in a perfect world. So I need the choice. I don't know it it separates me in equal (but smaller) measures from the rest of the world, or if it integrates me deeper with something, and right now I frankly don't care.

I feel so extreme at times. Another reason I don't like to go out. Believe it or not I care about people and I care about my friends friends. I don't want to put them in the awkward position of being with me, my sense of humor, my views and stuff. And I don't want to limit myself. No, wrong. I don't know how to limit myself. Stupid, huh? Never claimed to be an emotional rocket scientist. Hell, in that respect, I'm having trouble with inventing fire.
There's always something stupid that slips out. I'm so tired of it. I feel like I've forgotten how to be a real human being.

"Ever loved a woman who made you feel tall?"

I don't know... Fucked up situation once again. To a large extent my fault. True.

God, this is scary. I am trying to be civilized and understanding and tolerant and not let my little beasts and demons run amok, but somehow the old fiends finds a way out.

This isn't just a practical matter. Actually, the practical side is the smallest part of this. Now I can't even pretend for a second that I have a place where I belong. That is mine. At least that is what it feels like. And sure, it is a situation that is of my own making to a large extent. But there are things that you expect to be coming and things that you don't expect. Silly of me. I guess "proactive" is a word that I should add to my vocabulary (and my acting).

No. Time for peace. I don't have the energy left to hate, to be angry, to be petty. I just want to be. I hope it can be that easy. It hasn't been this far.

Time to go to work.

Der Totes Kinder

Yep. This took a turn I didn't want but should have had the guts to see. And confront.

Fuck.

Ripples and shreds and shards

If nothing else, it has at least been exciting.

Still hurts, though. The way it want, and in the matter it went there. With any luck it could have been done in a smoother, less painful fashion. But then again, with any luck it wouldn't have happened at all.

So how do I occupy myself today?

I just don't know where home his. I don't know where I belong.

Lord Humungous

Talked to my mom yesterday. Called her and cried my eyes out and shit. She thinks I should "go talk to someone", ie see a shrink. And I agree. I think I should. But the thing is, right now I don't know what to talk about. Because I feel depleted in so many ways. Right now I feel empty. It's the same old sickness, I think. I don't have the language and I don't have the tools and if I don't get some counseling or whatever I wont get the language and the tools. But I don't know how to get the stuff if I can't talk about it, if I don't know what to say. That has been a large part of my problems. I don't know what to say. I don't know what is bothering me. Sure, I can say "I got bullied in school" or "I feel like a total misfit that is barely tolerated" or stuff like that, but then what? In some ways it feels like having lived a life without any big bad things happening to me have made me less of a human, less of a person. And in some ways it is quite the opposite.


And every time I think about the fact that her smile or her pushing me with her head like a cat to get attention or her stretching like a cat or standing like a little girl won't be fore me anymore, my heart breakes in a thousand tiny but sharp little shards. And it hurts even more when I think about what a selfish and self centered little bastard I've been. I'm trying not to be and I am trying not to be that in the future, but that doesn't really make any difference now. Too late, always too late.

Fuck this. I'm going to change my shoes and then I am going to eat semlor.

Hmmm...

...and now I feel OK. Interesting. Just like that, more or less.

Got a question on Facebook, by a friend. He asked me when I wasn't working weekends. And I had to be honest. I don't remember. It was pretty chilling to come to that realization.

Sunday Morning Coming

Today is a shitty day. My body is aching. SO is my soul and heart. It is one of those days.

I'm worried. I got a lot of friends, grown up friends who haven't yet got what I wasted, or who lost it. I'm just so worried that I'll end up like that. I'm worried that the whole practial side of this is going to fuck up. I got no more energy or lust than I did this fall or last spring or this summer. I'm just out of options, now.

And I'm worried about the people close to me.

As strange as it may seem, I don't know if I've chosen my friends or if they have chosen me. I don't know if I've ever really fought and worked for someone to become my friend or if they just sort of fell into my lap. Or maybe I'm just so charming that the people I like instantly likes me too? ;)

I can't wait for this day to be over. And I have to get in touch with the university too. And my parents.

Dawn of Emptiness

It just hit me. All my life I have more or less just fought to keep my nose over the water for just one more day. I have never had a plan in my life. It has always been about getting over the nearest obstacle and ignoring what else might lie ahead of me. That goes just as well both for good things and bad, I think. I have never made a plan to get or keep the good things either. It has always been about getting to have what you can right now. Sort of. Not really. I don't know how else to explain it. Ostrich-style, maybe? ;)

Fuck.

How do you break this cycle? How do you stop living from hand to mouth, both economically and emotionally? I feel so poor and so starved, both materially and emotionally. How do you make a plan to fight? To take the chance to better things? My life has been lived instinctively, more or less. I believe you can lead this to the thing I wrote earlier, that right and wrong is a matter of choice based on knowledge of the consequenses for me, and I have learned that by the fact that my instincts have messed things up (prime example, 2001-2002).

Fuck it. Conan's on TV.

The New Project 7

I hate people that are better than me. People from classes above me. Not the people I know, but generally. And the problem is in me. I feel inferior among people with education, people with the right background. Fuck, people with the "right" clothes.

I am jealous. I am. I wish I had had some ambition when I was younger, but all I wanted was to get through the day in peace. If I had, maybe I could have been arsed to do something sooner. Maybe I'd been better. Maybe the rest of my life would have taken another direction, if I still didn't have that feeling of just getting through the day with minimal amount of trouble.

I'm ashamed of my job, I am ashamed of my situation, I'm ashamed of my life. I feel like I can hardly look people in the eye. I never feel right. Never in a situation that is really mine. For example, even when I feel really good looking, really snazzy or whatever, I'm scared that I'm going to be found out. That some detail somewhere on me are going to expose me. Silly. I guess I don't have the knowhow or the confidence to really pull it off. Oh, and this isn't just when I'm trying to look objectively good, ie wearing a suit or something. I am incredibly picky even when it comes to T-shirts, denim jackets, boots and what have you. I have a love/hate relationship with my favourite denim jacket, because I keep thinking that the arms are too short and stuff like that. They must be perfect. It's just that it isn't that hard to look good at a metal gig, you know? ;)

I don't really know what I'm doing clothing wise right now. Trying to find something new, something smarter, something more me? Trying to stay out of the uniform. I'm so tired of being the same all the time. Can you stay away from that? We'll see. In the end it will at least give me more options.

I hate that class is so important in my life. I hate it hate it hate it. It's like a ball and chain around my feet.

I'm so hopefull at times. Feeling like I'm gonna pull this of. And then I leave home and go to work and everything falls. More or less. Today is not the worst of days.

Mulholland Dr.

There ya go! Some crying, snacks, chocolate milk, imagined love & affection (ie masturbation), cat cuddeling and a Simpsons episode later life is better. Or less worse, mabye. ;) Time for more Simpsons. Need stupid now.

Rapadap

I need some advice. How do I do to keep from feeling this/like this? Everything is slipping.

Bad day, I guess. Don't see it becoming any better.

Pear Pressure

How much do I put you off? How many of you that reads this and know me (or thought you knew me) have changed their opinion of me? I can't help but feel that so much of me is a lie.

Probably has something to do with the fact that Thumper Man caught up with me a dozen times tonight. I can't believe this is over. Don't get me wrong, I know that it is, but everytime I do something I get sad because I realize that this might be the last time I ever do this. The last time I hold her when we sleep, the last time I stroke her belly, the last time we'll order clothes together, the last time I'll smell her hair etc. Fuck, I even got the weepies when I washed dirty underwear because I realized that I wont be doing that for much longer either. Pathetic. He really got me good during the night.



Fuck it. Time to go to work. This weekend will sure be fun.