Relentless

This aint the way it's supposed to be
There's a dark cloud following me
Im disillusioned and I'm down on the world again
There's movies going on in my head and all I can see is the color red
I'm relentless and I'm down on the world again

Give me tomorrows broken dreams now
I'm feeling like a loaded gun!

There's a world of guilt written on my face
And I feel ashamed for the human race
I've been forsaken and I'm down on the world again

I feel so alone in this crowd
My thoughts of despair are getting loud
I'm disrespected and I'm down on the world again
Love and tolerance have abandoned me
And I feel the gloom hovering over me
I'm resentful and I'm down on the world again

Give me tomorrows broken dreams now
I'm feeling like a loaded gun!
Give me tomorrows holy schemes now
So hopless when there's no place left to run

-Social Distortion, Down On The World Again

Righ now I feel like every choice I have ever made has been a mistake. Has been the wrong choice. The wrong decision. And what's worse is that I feel like I haven't made that many choices at all.

I hate everything right now. Myself most of all. I don't know how you fight this.

I Don't Want To Be Born

This is one of those days when I just feel so totally, abysmally sad. It's one of those days.

Why do you feel like this? What purpose can it possibly serve? What is the point? It is so much, so strange that I sometimes wonder if it is really happening at all. I just don't get it.

I just don't know what to write right now. I just feel like an abyss, like I am falling in myself. Into myself. If I could take a real, physical look into my own soul right now I am convinced that it would look like the cover of "Altars of Madness." Wild, chaotic, evil, stupid. I feel like such an emotional dwarf. I feel like the most worthless human being alive today.

Starting to think about lobotomy. Just cutting the pain away. Remove the part of my brain and my soul that feels pain. I have this hole in me.

Not getting therapy any more. Right now... Right now I am back. Back in my old self. I feel like shit today, but I don't know why. That's the problem. I don't know why anymore. It's just this hole in me. I can't see it, I can't touch it, I can't explore it. I just feel it. I hate it.

There's a certain edge to me and my acts these days. An edge of destruction. It's like whatever I do, there's a part of me that want it to escalate and go too far. I don't really know why, because I know that doing that will only make me feel worse. On the other hand, there's a part of that just don't care about anything anymore. That part could do anything (and I mean anything) just because it could. Doing something or not doing something is the same thing for it. I'm just reminded of that play. And of grief. And mourning.

Got to pull myself together.

Book of Lies, Lord of Truth

You know that thing I said about peace? It kind of went FUBAR during the night. Yeah. Thinking too much. Feeling too much. Seeing things that I didn't see before. Seeing things that wasn't there before.

It's just hard, you know. Do you have to dissect every little thing, feel every little thing, before you can officially say you are over something? Well, one of my best friend is going to stay here for the weekend. It will be nice. Chaotic, but nice. I hope.

Still trying to find something, I guess. I thought I had it, but maybe I was mistaken?

The Eye Of The Storm?

My mind is blank. I think of nothing. I read. I have peace enough to read. I can spend time with a cup of coffe. I stand in the sun for minutes. I take walks because I want to, not because I need to.

Right now, I have no apologies to make to myself.

Everything is de-luminated

"I don't want to feel this way."

Neither do I. I don't want to feel miserable. I don't want it. I think I have had enough of that now. I don't want to mourn anymore. I don't want to be filled with sorrow. I want to be happy. I think I deserve to feel good. Or at least not feel bad. Feeling awful won't change anything. Nothing I do based on that will make anything better.

I've been trying to do something right. I've been trying to just be glad for what I can get. But it's like chasing the rainbow. No matter how nice it has been, there's always this sense of that everytime I get a bit closer things move further ahead. And what I am left with afterwards are old wounds ripped open. And I don't want to feel those things again. I don't want to rub my own face in it. I don't need to feel like a fool anymore. I think I deserve to let this pass. To do what is necesarry. To do this for me. I need to take care of me. And I might sound selfish and it is very possible that I am selfish.

It's just that things remind me of what I once had. Of what I might have been able to get. Of what I never got. Of what I never gave. Of what was taken. Of what I never took. And it is pulling me to shreds. It is pulling me down. I might make a gigantic mistake by doing this but as I was once told: "if I don't do this (now) I will regret it."

I don't know. I'm trying. Trying to do something, for a change. Maybe it is the wrong thing. Maybe not. But it is my choice. My very own. My gain. Or my loss. My battle to win, or my battle to lose. Mine. Doing it for me.

I don't know how long this will take. Maybe just a few week, maybe longer. Maybe less. Maybe I won't be able to hold this up. Trust me, this isn't anything I want to do. It is just that I need (what I hope is) the result of this. Of pulling back. Of letting myself heal a bit. Catch my breath. Just so I can get my bearings. Just so I can get my energy back so I can start running after that rainbow again.

This is no weight of my shoulders. But hopefully this won't add to the existing weight.

"It is better to look good than to feel good"

So I saw Nifelheim yesterday. Great, as always. It made me happy to be there, in a fucking youth center, just filled with cool people. With friends. Family, almost. Some of them. I just felt like I knew what I was doing. And at the same time I wasn't at home. But I couldn't think of where ever I else could be at home. It was more like meeting an old friend, or something.

I don't know. I had fun.

I got a kind of hard decision ahead of me. It's hard, because it is saying no to something I want. But I don't know if I have the strength.

Anyways, I'm going to see Degial and Dismember tonight. And then I don't know what will happen. With my life.

I'm just... I don't know if I care anymore. I am inches away from just saying "fuck it" and willingly crawl back into my shell because I just cant feel more. It's breaking me apart. I can hardly work, you know?

To often I am faced with the question of "what have I done to myself?" Both in a rethorical way and in a straight forward way. I'm... I don't get it. How can you be so blind?

It's an empty play, but we clap anyway...

The only thing that has been really constant today is the will to hit something. Hit it so hard that my knuckles crack open. It it so hard that it breaks. And scream. Just cream my lungs out. Just... Rage. Or is it? I don't know. I don't think so, not really.

I don't know who I am. I look myself in the mirror and I never look like I thought I would look. Never. I never see what I expect to see. What I want to see.

And that is the least of my problems.

If I had had the possibility, this would be a day when I played russian roulette with myself.

VOID

Empty.

I think that about sums it up. Everything is empty. I am empty. My life is empty.

I'm going to see one of my absolute favourite bands tonight, but it is empty.

Empty.

I'm back.

It is back.

This feeling that trying means as much as not trying. Nothing means anything. It is all empty. And the only thing I can choose is how to humiliate myself further.

Fuck

Off

My Body Is A Cage

Running

I'm a bit pissed of. At myself. That just about sums it all up. Just... Angry. Angry at myself, at my cowardice, at my blindness, at my inability to relate. Pissed of.

And I am a quite sad at the lack of honour in the world. People just seem to do things our of more or less selfish reasons. On the other hand, when I act "honorable" I often do it because I would be too ashamed of myself otherwise. And that is egotistic too...

You just don't get away, do you?

Rites

Sometimes I wonder if I have any feelings left in me. And then I remember that "oh, yeah. I feel like shit. That counts." But in a lot of ways I feel emotionally dead. And in others more alive than I have for a long time. But I still don't see a point. And a lot of what I do... It's based on the rest of the world. Not me. Not my feelings. Not what I want. Sort of.

Yeah. All I know is that I have to be amongst people all the time, or I just feel awful. Like the loneliest creature in the world.

Found a new site. It's lik ICHC but with dogs. It reminds me f Sabbat and how much I miss him. But soon enough he can live with me. It will be totally weird.

I still can't really really believe this is it. I still just dumbfound myself when I think about what I have destroyed. And what I destroyed for myself is bad enough, but what I destroyed in others... I can't even write it.

But...
That you can miss physical touch so much. That you can miss having someone sleeping in the same bed as you. Something sleeping. Be it a cat or a human.

It's just that you can't really give up, you know? That's almost as depressing as everything else. That you can't just give up. Quit. It is like your choices has been removed. Like being caught in the grinder, somehow.

but it could be worse:
Or maybe that would be better, in a way.

Perfection

It's just such heavy work, getting it out of me. It's not just like it's just something I can fling open anywhere, anytime. It's like walking a tight rope everytime. Circumstances has to be either perfect or the need has to be incredibly grave.

It ain't working out.

Are you supposed to almost panic at the idea of spending the night at the old folks place?

Are you supposed to feel like such a fucking misfits even there?

And I tried, I really tried to be sociable.

Shouldn't have been drinking wine.

Drive On

Yesterday I reread a book called "med uppenbar känsla för stil." A Swedish dissection of manhood, manliness, male culture etc. And a totally merciless dissection at that. It hit me like a hammer to both the head and the heart. Even more this time than the first time I read it. I recognize just about everything in that book. And I don't know when I feel worse. When I feel like "yes, this is the way I am and it is disgusting" or when I feel "no, this isn't the way I am but it is the way I am supposed to be. The way I have to act to be able to walk through this unscathed."

I see it so well. Being a man. What you have to be, what you have to do, how you have to act. At times I think there is something beautiful about at and at the same time it disgust me. It is so limiting. It is killing me. It is killing us all.

I am not wrong. That is the thing. I'm not like this because I want to, because it started of like a "fuck you" to the world. I am like this as a reaction to the world. Sure, I could dress differently, I could behave differently, I could think differently. But I shouldn't have to. That is the thing. I'm not like this because I don't want to be a part of the world, I am like this because I have to be a part of something, I have to have something when the world rejected me. The walls around me are there for a reason. Why should I crawl to the cross and ask to be a part of it now? I'm not the one to blame, not from the start. I didn't set out to be 'alternative' or what the fuck you want to call it. I became that way because that was the only place where I could make any kind of room for myself. Granted, at the moment it is a small, dank room. But it is mine. I took it. Contrary to what people might believe, it is not an act of opposition. It is not against the world or society or whatever you might want to call it. It is just different. It is something else. Something that very much exists on it's own premises.

Granted, I am quite defensive and sometimes (quite often) I act like offence is the best defense. I am not saying I have no fault in this. I searched eagerly for something different, something that was different to the core, and now I am paying the price. That is what first attracted me to Black Metal. The fact that it was so different. It didn't make any apologies. It acted according to it's own rules, rules that was (and is) very different from the ordinary worlds. It didn't make any apologies. It wasn't 'evil' because christianity was the real evil and had treated people badly. It was evil because it was evil. Everything from lyrics to views to aestethics was so much... It was the context for itself.

But at the same time it has killed something in me. This might seem utterly pretentious, but you know about the "1000 mile stare" that war veterans supposedly get when they fully understand the horrors of war? When they have seen things that couldn't possibly be understood by the rookies or the people back home? Sometimes I feel like I got something like that. Like I have seen the Tiger smile.

It's like there has been a search for extremes. Like not being a part of the world has made me search for something that is totally different to the core. And that maybe that was too different. Like it has forced me to lie, to adapt just as much as I would have to to be a part of the real world.

And I didn't really escape. I ended up in caricature, a parody of what I didn't want to be a part of. Not something inherently different. I chose to be a part of a culture that made me a perpetrator and not a victim. And that makes me sad. Incredibly sad. I am a part of the problem. I remember me an L talking about that. That she had always been friends with the fags, the ones that got beat up. My side is the other side. And I can't but help to admire her strenght and courage to stay on that side. I can't help but admire the strength and courage for all the people who can stay their ground on that side. I feels like they remaind true to themselves in so many ways. I admire that. And it makes me sad that I, at the time, couldn't be on that side. Or chose not to stay there.

At the same time I must say that the choices I have made, the side I have been on and the ideology that runs through it has given me an immense amount of pride and strength. I am not going to deny that and I am not going to regret that. But I think that it is time for me to build up many other sides of me and realize that not all of me has to fit in that frame. There is no need for a philosophy that permeats everything I do. I can be everything I want to at the same time and I shouldn't have to justify that to anyone, not even myself. I just wish I could have realized that earlier, instead of spending the last two (or more) years just trying to fit everything into some kind of mold. Or something like that. All this makes it sound like I'm incredibly one dimensional, and I can promise you that I am not. I have more dimension than you can probably guess (someone close to me once said that she was surprised that I could still surprise her by showing her new sides of myself after knowing each other for so long. Unfortunately they where not all good.). What I mean is that they don't have to fall neatly into the same basket. They need not be related. No red thread is needed. Something like that. But it is hard to think differently, and I don't know how to do it really. Everytime I try, a little part of me is saying "you are selling out, you are betraying what you are." And that is not a nice feeling. You want to be able to look yourself in the mirror.

But this feels like the start of Ende Neu.




Johnny Cash Lyrics
Drive On Lyrics

Anyways, I recommend everyone that can (especially males) to read "med uppenbar känsla för stil." It won't take you very long (I finished it in under 3 hours) but it is really spot on. I don't know if there is anything in the book that I disagree with. It is incredibly true and because it is true it is incredibly sad (I almost started to cry a couple of times when I read it because I recognized what I am and what I am not). It explains why we have machismo (in lack of a better word) to blame for so much and how it permeats every aspect of life. That we can't go or do anything without being our genders in the first place, not even if we want to. Read it. It's an order.

But I also recommend that you read that, "Klass - Är du fin nog" by Annelie Jordahl, the "Football Factory"-trilogy by John King, "Mitt förnamn är Ronny" by Ronny Ambjörnsson and maybe "Amon the Thugs" by Bill Buford if you want to see and understand where I am coming from in some small way. Yes, I know that there is probably a dozen or so books by highly skilled scholars dealing with the same subject and probably manages to explain parts of it quite well but I doubt that the really get it, that they really understand why people act like they do on their own emotional level. And I doubt that they can convey that understanding to reader properly, on an emotional level. It like book about neo nazism. There's hundreds of reports about kids from socially 'challenged' areas, explaining how they search for some point and meaning. But that doesn't make you understand the hate they feel. Not really. It makes you understand that they hate and why they hate, but not the hate in itself. It is like that.

Anyways, those are the books that I mostly recognize (parts of) myself in. Unfortunately.

Wails of Death

People are saying things like "let it go" and "let it be" and stuff like that. And I try. I try to just... Let it be. Let it go. But it always comes back to bite me in the ass. Everything. And this is one of those days when I feel like I could take any way out just to make it stop hurting. When I just want to fall down on my knees and cry. And scream.

Fuck.

You shouldn't read old blog entries. You just realize how fucked you have been and how many chances you missed. You see what you have forgotten. Maybe it's a good thing.

I hardly even know why I am sad anymore. My life is falling into place more and more. I'm going to send in the best job application ever on monday. I'm going to (maybe, probably not) ace the exam in the beginning of june. I got a lot of stuff for my apartment already fixed. I got more energy than I had a year ago. And yet... Everything feels so utterly pointless. So... I can't seem to activate myself. I lose track of anything. I got an attentionspan of a goldfish. I forget things. I'm confused. And I should say that although I have more energy than I had a year ago, it doesn't mean that I have that much energy. I mostly still sit and stare at the wall and avoid thinking. In the past, walking and spending time in crowds, spending time with humanity felt good. It doesn't now. I feel like a jew with a star of David on my coat walking around Berlin during the war. I miss her so much it hurts, and at the same time I don't miss her. I don't feel the same need to be with her that I once did (probably because on some level there's pain involved everytime I meed her.).

I rarely miss people, actually. I rarely feel the need to be with someone, to meet someone. But what I have learned during these months is that I have that need, even if I don't feel it.

At certain intervals I decide to just take a step back. That that is what is needed of me. But it is so hard. So hard.

I feel so selfish. I'm trying not to be. But I feel so trapped. Like this situation, the way it turned out, prevents any change. That my pride is so much in the way, and yet it is not. And that makes me ashamed of myself.

I can't feel like this. I can hardly function. I'm at work and I had to run into the toilet 3 times already because I had to cry. It doesn't work. I feel like an open wound, and it doesn't get better. I've been hyper sensitive to the whole fucking world for six fucking months now. It can't go on for so much longer.

YüGung

I'm just so sad. And it doesn't seem to go away. Just transform, mutate into a different shape and then come back and show it's face and then I know what it is and that it is the exact same thing that it once was. And it makes me kind of self absorbed. Egocentric. I don't mean to be. I'm trying not to be.

This will be one of the days when I can sit with my iPod and just cry, masochistically listen to music that I know will tear my heart up. Just to get it out.

"This is no place for me..."

A friend of mine said that the trick, the cure is to forgive yourself. To believe that you too deserve happiness. I guess it is. But every fucking waking moment just reminds me of fucking up a life. Of pain caused to myself and caused to others. Of opportunities not taken. Of what I have become. Of what I have been reduced to. I don't have any desire to die, but sometimes I just wish I could blow my brains out. Just to make it stop. Just to not feel this anymore. Just to get it to go away.

I'm trying to be honest with myself. I'm trying to take a deep close look at what I feel and what I do and why I feel it and why I do it. But I don't trust myself. And on top of that is this overlaying sense of grief. Of sorrow. Of waste.

And this feeling of ignorance. Of being ignored. Of... But it is as it is. I guess. It just... It makes the bed and pulling a blanket over me seem so tempting. And then, when I get home... I just sit there. Waiting to be so sleepy that I can fall asleep. I try to read, but I just get lost. I try to watch movies, but I just get sidetracked by my mind. Nothing seems to take up enough time. Nothing seems to do the trick.

Fuck it. Everything just seems like I'm waiting. Waiting for time to pass. And I'm so tired of it. I'm tired of waiting for this to pass, I'm tired of longing for things that can never come again, I'm tired of this life, I'm tired of being trapped, I'm tired of trying and feeling that it don't make any difference, I'm tired of seeing my mistakes, tired of seeing others mistakes that they kept doing because I didn't have the guts to speak out (my own mistakes again), tired of being reminded by the silliest things, tired of feeling so strange and alien, of having no connection to the real world, tired of not being able to open up, tired of feeling like I've wasted myself, tired of tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired. Tired of writing it here. Tired of people looking at me as I am some kind of freak (and yet I feel like I can't stop, because that would be giving up. Giving in. Selling out.).

And bored. Bored with myself.

Should you let the little madness run loose or should you try and keep it under control?

I just want to lock myself up again. Not leaving the little safe havens I have created unless I have to. And I know and fear that will get worse (even though I have nothing to do in those little confines of mine. Nothing but myself and I am not good company for myself.).

I have been drinking too much coffe.

I feel so fucking alien. And I felt like that was proved about a week ago. Probably the reason I got so incredibly drunk. Just to destroy it.

And I'm tired of being angry. But right now all I want to do is scream. Just let everything rip out of my chest, like a fucking whirlwind of emotions, a maelstroem of destruction. Primeval Mother Chaos manifesting as sound and tears and pain.

And you haven't even seen half of what I am...

Dreams Of Unknown Kadath

So...

Yesterday I dreamt that one of the cats (Kali to be more precise) got killed.

Tonight I dreamed that I couldn't leave work. People just wouldn't leave. I tried to throw them out, but they just kept coming.

I woke up several times, but I just ended up in the same dream everytime I went back to sleep. A couple of times I realized that I was just dreaming, but I couldn't change the dream. As a matter of fact it just got worse when I tried.

I don't know. I feel stuck. Trapped.

I've come to the conclusion that although I feel the need to spend time with people, I am not really a social person. Sometimes it is because they bore me and I just don't have the energy to pretend. Sometimes it is because I don't dare to be. Sometimes it is because I really don't know how to do it. I don't know hot to connect. I don't know how people work. And I have always recented small talk in a way. Just shallow and empty frases, uttered just to kill time. Sort of like that. Superficial clap trap. But I guess you have to start at the surface if you want to get deeper.

Sometimes it is just the fact that my kind of small talk is fucked up. Too extreme. Because I think extreme fucked up things, my life is fucked up, so many of my friends and foes are extreme and fucked up. Sometimes I just think that I am so far out there. And I don't want to start lying to people, to start pretending either. I don't want to stand there and pretend I care when we could discuss something worth while. Something that maybe would change us both. One problem with that is that I think that a lot of people have a problem with understanding me.

I don't know. I just hate the idea of for examle talking about jobs or something like that. Jobs mean nothing. They are just something you do to get by. They are not you or me. I guess that sort of thinking explains why I am stuck where I am stuck.

I feel like the main character in Einztürzende Neubauten's video to "Sabrina." And it made me cry. Just stumbling on that video. Just seeing myself.
At least this has rewakened some sort of interest for music in me.

Some sort of storm is coming. Or some sort of darkness. Maybe just material. Maybe worse. Maybe better.

Discovery of the day:

So I was awake relatively early today. To what use? No use what so ever.

I had a horrible dream tonight. And waking up withouth the Cats made it worse (since it was about losing one of the Cats in a horrible way).

I got to stop feeling this way. Somehow. It's like a fucking tar pit bubbling in my stomach.

God. All I really want to do is just pull a blanket over my head, stay in bed forever and cry. But what for? I don't know what has changed so much during the last few days to make me feel like this. I mean I had a couple of weeks of relative tranquility. And now this.

Fuck.

Nothing changes. It still comes as a chock everytime I really realize that "no, this really is over." I still spend every morning crying in the shower. I'm still always just a fraction of an inch from just falling into a sobbing little pile any time of the day.

The only thing that has changed is the fact that it once felt liberating. Now it feels like it felt before. Nauseating. Humiliating. Weak.

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to do this. I am trying. I'm trying to take a good close look at everything, I'm trying to see things and to see things the way they are and all, as much as I can. But it ain't helping. Now right now, anyway.

Denied

Feel like shit. So much shit. I thought I had got past this. Some of it. So I could work on the other things. But no.

Never mind.

I just can't touch it. I feel like this and it destroys me. But I don't know what "it" is. I'm trying to poke myself, but my mind just slips. It's like there's a soaped up obsidian surface just above it. I try to get through it but I just slip of it and don't realize it until I am somewhere else. It was so much easier (although harder in another way) when this was new. Now I just poke it, and it hurts. But then, nothing. So I poke it again and it hurts. And nothing. I mean, what am I supposed to do? I don't get it.´It doesn't change. I feel fucking cheated. Mostly by myself.

And I feel... Cheap. Ratty. Nothing fits, everything is old, worn and torn, my body betrays me at every turn. I'm just so tired. It feels like all I have been doing for so long (for years) is just soldiering on. I feel worn out. Bad quality. Everything is of bad quality.

I just feel like a fucking fraud.

I. AM. SO. TIRED. OF. THIS.

So fucking tired.

I feel so left out of the world.

www.blacksheepandprodigalsons.com

I'm seeing things I didn't see before. I'm seeing behaviour I didn't see before. I'm a bit surprised, to be honest. But I know that remarks of the same sort have been made upon me and upon my behaviour. And I know where the changes in my behaviour comes from. They come from realizing my mistakes and trying to make sure I don't repeat them. I'm choosing to believe that what is happening now is something in the same vein. There really is no option.


Otherwise?

I'm just so scared of people. I am. Terribly afraid. Of people and of rejection. And of being judged.

And I want to talk about all this. I really want to. But every time I try I just feel how the words stop and disappear. And there is so much that I can't say, but that I want to say.

It's like... When I try to talk about this I almost inevetably start to cry. And when I cry I can't talk. I don't want to cry. I have worked so hard on not crying, it is almost like a reflex. And yet, I have to. And I am glad that I'm letting it out. I really am. But at the same time, it's incredibly hard anf painful and it feels so demeaning. Humiliating. And I feel so stupid.

Yesterday I got whaty I wanted and not even then could I let it all out. I so wanted to let it rip through my chest and out in the world, but I couldn't I don't know why? Not wanting to show myself weak? Not wanting to add to someones burden?

I feel so very very different from the rest of humanity.

I guess it is a strategy, finding a topic of discussion that I find interesting and knows a lot about as soon as possible. But it is an ugly strategy. Not very nice of me. Sure, I do it because I am scared. Because I want to prove myself in some way. But I also do it because I like the things I like and care very little for things outside it. In that way I am very ignorant. Not a nice trait. And I want to be nice, you know? But I don't want to lie at the same time.

I don't know... I have always had a problem with small talk. It's always seen so... Unimportant. That if we didn't talk about something Big and Important it was just... An act? So incredibly selfish of me at times. Who am I to judge what is important or not? On the other hand, I remember asking a new friend about his kids and we spent like 30 minutes talking about them. I don't really care about his kids. But he obviously does (of course he does!). And I got a new sensation. As I said, I don't reallt care about his kids, as I don't know them myself. But I felt like a human. A civilized person. Like I was going somewhere. Evolving. Or at least pretending to evolve. And it felt nice. Nice to be able to talk about something like that. Nice to enjoy it.

I think I have mentioned this before, but the only reason I have friends is my friends. I talked about this yesterday, that I can't even remember the last time I initiated contact with a stranger. Consequently, I have friends because they started to talk to me.

I'm just starting to see exactely how fucked up my behaviour has been. How fucked up it is. I'm actually amazed that I managed as good at the university as I did.

I just feel fucked up. I have this urge to just pull the cover over my head and yell "leave me alone" to the whole world, and at the same time I don't want to spend another minute alone again. And that is what scares me about getting my own place. I'm spending so much time alone as it is. How is it going to be if I live alone? I don't want a life where I go to work and then go home and wait for the morning to come so I can go to work again. I don't want that. But nothing interests me right now. Nothing that doesn't feel like an insult to myself.

At times this almost feels exciting. Like "I'm going to make it! This is going to work out splendidly!" and that feels good. For a while. Until I'm starting to think things like "why should it work out? Look at the stats, how succesful has my life been up till now? Exactely."

I'm so tired of not having any kind of safety. I don't think I have been safe one day in my life. It's wearing me down.

I'm starting to get a bit fed up with myself. "Buhu buhu, I'm lonely and feel like an alien and think that everybody barely tolerates me and all I can do about it is writing these stupid entries in a fucking blog!" But I don't know what else to do.

God, I hate this day. Mostly I hate that I got drunk yesterday and today I got the exact feeling that made me a recluse. The worst part is that I hardly remember anything about yesterday.

I hate this day. I hate myself. All I want to do is just run away from work, but I can't stand going back to the apartment. It just feels so lonely. So fucking deserted.

I just... Everything is so fucked up in me. I just want to break down and cry and just be hugged and just not have to feel awful about being alone and afraid. Not having to be worried about that. Feel like I have something. Truly have something.

"I don't think you can be very funny about metal"

According to my facebook social profile I was
"reviewed for dating 235 times and 5 people expressed interest in you.You are more desirable than 50% of 30,358,409 people.

Last week you were viewed 12 times and no people expressed interested in you."´

Is that supposed to be good news? The vast majority of people on the interwebz don't want me, but there are 150 000 000 people that are wanted even less? I find this hilarious.

Been listening to Tiamats latest effort lately. And it is brilliant. I love it. Love it. It brings back memories of when I bought Skeleton Skeletron back in maybe 1999 or 2000 and I just loved it to death. I listened to Tiamat an awful lot for a few years there (and mostly that record), but for some reason I stopped. Or I didn't appreciate them as much as I maybe should. I don't know. But they still remain one of the few bands that have managed to somehow wed anything remotely gothic to metal (the other examples are Celtic Frost, Root, Fields Of The Nephilim and maybe Katatonia) without it becoming a total revelry in cheese, latex pants, disgusting "growl meets opera"-vocals and an all out prettiness.

And as a big plus in my book is that there has always been something satanic about Tiamat (something that is also true for the other bands I mentioned), although there is a sort of Milton-inspired Satan possessing Tiamat. Quite playful and beautiful, yet dangerous and still the Prince of Lies. The Devil shows himself differently in the other bands I mentioned but He is still there, in one aspect or another.

One thing I hate more than everything else when it comes to music is bands and artist that don't dare to take what they do seriously. It is the easiest thing in the world to start a black metal parody band It's like stealing candy from a baby, and just about as challenging. Now, I am not saying that you can't be playful or humorous in what you do (just look at Laibach. Or Tiamat for that matter.) I'm just saying that I am fucking sick and tired of people that don't even try to take their shit seriously. It shows a lack of respect, a lack of guts and above all, a lack of love. Or put in the words of swedish hardcore heroes Anatomi-71: "Ta din jävla glimt i ögat och lämna mig ifred!"

PANIC!

Just discovered that I'm starting to grow hair on my back! Fuck! I'm growing old. The decline is here. No fun. No fun whatsoever. I mean, there's only like a few hairs, but that is almost worse than if it were like 2000, because I don't really know how to keep this in check. I can't shave my back. Yeah, well... There's not like there is anyone that's going to see me naked.

Damn.

Been in a strange mood today. Can't really describe it. Just strange. Been quite productive, but I still feel weird. Not necessarily in a bad way, though. Probably because I slept really really bad tonight. And because I cracked a tooth on my tounge piercing this morning. Not really that much fun either. Felt so stressed and confused and stuff that I skipped shaving this morning. Figured that I wouldn't be able to properly concentrate, that my skin would react really bad to it and that I probably should let my face rest a bit. Got to learn how you shave your neck without it turning into one big, red rash afterwords.

Spent some time with J today, and that was nice. Nice to clear your head a bit. Nice to talk and just do nothing else.

My mom just called. They make me sad sometimes, my parents. I am glad they care but so often I just want them to leave me alone. Especially today. Apparently some cousin of mine that I have met maybe 3 times the last 15 years is getting married in august to someone I don't think I have ever met and she wondered if I wanted to come. I hardly know what I am going to do next week, do you think august is even on my horizon? Going to a wedding with people I hardly know and hardly care about (and for the most part, don't even like) is not high on my list of priorities. And right now the whole idea of going to a wedding just brings back bad memories. I don't know... That's the problem, I don't know anything. Not really. I'm just... Floating around. Sort of. I'm tired of being an alien and yet, I could never lower myself to be something else. It's lonely on the top, you know? :)

Got to finish the dishes now. See ya.

"Love is a flame, a Devils thing"

I have been meaning to write about this for some time now.

I saw a picture of them once. It made my heart skip a couple of beats and... Well, it wasn't a nice feeling. But there was something in it that made me keep looking. And after a while I realized what it was. In that captured moment, she looks happy. Like in that moment, everything she needed to feel well was there. And not only did she look happy. He did too.

In one way it broke my heart. But in another it made me glad. I felt glad that she felt like that. And I felt glad that she was with someone who felt like that about being with her. And how could I possibly stand in the way of something like that? Where would the honour be in that? And even if I could do something, what good would that do? Make us all miserable?

I guess that is one of the things that saves this.

Walking In The Rain

"Walking down the street
Kicking cans
Looking at the billboard
Also ran
Summing up the people
Checking out the race
Doing what I'm doing
Feeling out of place

Walking, walking in the rain

Feeling like a woman
Looking like a man
Sounding like a no-no
Make it when I can
Whistling in the darkness
Shining in the light
Coming to conclusion
Right is might is tight

Walking, walking in the rain

Come in all you jesters
Enter all you fools
Sit down no-no
Ogre, ghouls
Trip the light fantastic
Dance the swivel hips
Coming to conclusion
Button up your lips

Walking, walking in the rain

Walking, walking in the rain"


Otherwise? I just came to the conclusion that my "social competence" during these last months have not been completely altruistic (although I have been working hard on making this situation better and good). In some ways it is a form of of revenge. In some ways it is the old protection showing it's face. Not letting anyone get to me. Or at least, showing that they get to me. And in some ways it was a relief to lose. Or be beat. Or how you want to put it. It's not the right words, but it is the words I got. Just a relief to be in a situation where you know where you are. It sound fucked, I know. It is fucked. The world is fucked. My world is fucked.

Well, got to work now.

"Point? There is no point."

I remember when all this broke loose. I was at my parents place. And I started to cry in front of my father. And he did nothing. I know that it wasn't because he didn't care. It was because he did not know what to do. He was scared.

So I talked about it the other day and came to the conclusion that I am just like that. Some opposition was raised, but look at the facts.

There are numerous times when I did something that I realized was wrong and instead of going in and apologizing I just stormed of and hid because I was afraid. And I was ashamed of myself.

I remember when S and E broke up. It scared me to death. Not because I thought that it would fuck up my relationship, but because I didn't know what to do. Not once did I ask her how she was doing. Not once did I call her and ask her how she was dealing with this, how she was dealing with life, how she was coping, if she needed or wanted company or someone to talk to. Not once. Because I was afraid. Afraid of what? Stupid Fucking Idiot. Like with mys sister. When she and M broke up, did I call her to ask how she was doing? Did I ever bring it up? Or when she was dating that idiot, did I ever talk to her? No. Have I ever done that to anybody? I can't remember a single incident when I haven't shyed away from it. Until all this shit hit the fan. But I can feel it disappearing. The guts, not the knowledge.

This runs through my life. Just a series of missed chances to just ask people "how are you doing? Really?"

I don't know how to do this.

Most days I am pretty OK. I keep myself occupied. I read. I walk. I work. I spend time with people. I listen to music. I think. I think about things that have nothing to do with this. I fantazise. I dream. So most days I am pretty OK. But I still have a hole in me. In my life. It is a weird feeling, this. Just missing something. Just missing a point, a reason. Maybe it is good, in the kind of "what doesn't kill you make you stronger" kind of way. It's just strange. I can't remember ever having felt like this before. There was always some kind of point. Something that just made it feel... Like there was a point. Something a bit bigger than just amusing for five minutes. Because that is all that I am doing now. Just finding stuff that is funny right now. And in a way I always envied her ability to do that. To find such joy in a smell, or how something looked. Or the feel of paper. Or the feel of someones skin. It just doesn't feel as big to me. Or maybe it does. Maybe my expectations of what life is about is too big.

And yes yes. I know there are lots of things and people in my life and bla bla bla. That is not the point.

You know...

I love Dead Can Dance and I love this song, but come on! Hippies! I mean , look at them. OK, Lisa Gerrard looks kind of weird in a cool way and Brendan Perry looks like a bum who likes to read books and that's cool. But the rest of them! I bey you a fucking fortune that when they are not playing with Dead Can Dance they are swordmakers or make their own mead or make chain mail armour. Except maybe the guy on the synth/keybord. He got a bit more of a rejected serial killer-look going on. I can respect that.





Other news? I have come to realize that when I am working I spend the whole days alone. I wake up alone and go to bed alone. Talking to no one that matters for days at a time. I am not good company for myself. Not now.

Just wish for... I don't know. I don't know. Anything.

It's interesting, the ways you feel alone and shielded of from the world.
In some ways I feel left behind. Like I am still where I once was and the rest of the world is far ahead. In some ways I feel like I am (as I have said before) seven million miles beyond the sun. Like I am, by my own travels, so far away from the rest of humanity. Like I can't even relate to humans anymore. Like the only things I know about are things that 'normal' people don't know or understand. Or they do and have shunned it.

I don't know... I think I have a problem with hanging out with people who might be more than intellectual equals. It's the barbarian in Rome-thing. There are very few persons that I feel that I don't have anything to prove to. I could count them on one hand.

And I realized, when I tried to explore that Lump-feeling, that I can still make myself cry. Awful. Thought I had passed some kind of road bump, but no. Got to try and stop picking the scabs. Or something. It's just that I have to provoke myself in some way or things will stay hidden. It's hard to analyze your feelings when you don't know them. When you are so used to them that they feel like a neutrum. Like normality.

Every man is an island

I got this feeling in me and it is slowly driving me a little bit insane, I think. Because I don't know what it is. It isn't a good feeling, but I don't know what it is. I'm trying to figure it out. I am trying to feel it, to embrace it. Not too much, but a little. But nothing. It just sits there like a black tumour in my chest. It doesn't move or squirm when I poke it. I'm trying to think about other feelings, trying to think about things that usually make me upset, trying to provoke it, but the Lump ain't reacting. It doesn't get better and it doesn't get worse. That feeling, the Lump-feeling is the same. I don't know what it is. I feel like it's just a bag of worries hanging from my heart. The perpetual sum of life, or something like that.


In so many ways I feel destroyed. So utterly destroyed and almost violated. By myself and by the world. And I want to move in some kind of direction, but everywhere I look, every direction there is I only see people and worlds and ideas and feelings that I am either diametrically opposed or that I am just not included in. And couldn't be included in no matter how hard I tried. I thought there was something else, you know? That when I had torn the walls down a bit I would be free. That it would be painful and humiliating but that it would set me free. But now it just feels like the only way there is for anyone in the world, the only way allowed by the human consensus is to build walls. And the only choice I got is the cosmetic details of the wall I'm going to build.

I'm worried. I can't find the words anymore (if I ever could). I feel all these things but I can't find the words. I don't know what I'm feeling. I don't know how to deal with it if I don't know what it is. I feel like something is hunting me. I think I have always had that feeling. I'm just rehashing the same old shit all the time, about not being able to do yaddayaddayadda. I'm treading water now.

I wish I could shake this feeling of exhaustion of me.

And I always got my shield on my arm.

On another note, my feet hurt like hell. But that's ok, because they look good. And I got the most amusing compliment yesterday. Apparently I have a good looking profile.

"Det är inte alltid man gillar det man gillar"

So... I got a bit of an akward feeling right now. I had a prett OK night last night, although I was pretty nervous when I got there (and during the evening), which is silly. Anyway, as always I cured it with becoming tipsy and maybe a bit intense socially (ie talking a lot). The rest of the night kind of went back and forth between thinking "I'm here to entertain myself, not other people, so I don't give a fuck about what they might be thinking. I'm here for ME" to a feeling of having to excuse myself.

You think you live a sheltered, safe and quiet little life and then you just start to think about the shit you actually have seen and the misfits you actually know. And although you know that you probably shouldn't, in one way you love it. And in another it feels so sad.

"Det är inte alltid man gillar det man gillar." But you'd like to.

I don't know, but it would be nice to be able to be in any kind of social situation without feeling like an elephant in a china shop.

Fuck it. Got to go to work.