Hate

This is why I hate the world. Because to me, most people are like this.

I see it every day, all the time, in one way or the other. And I can't stand it.

"Do you see me..."

"...now?"













Americans should be shot

Norwegians should be shot twice.

Love is a flame...

...a devils thing.


I keep writing the same thing over and over again, don't I? Utterly utterly boring. That's the thing with 'talking'. Once you have said it, then what? That's the problem. Where do you go from there? You are supposed to DO something, ain't you? But I don't know what or how.

I just want peace in my mind. Peace from myself. Peace from the world. I wish I was stupid and ignorant. If I was that, maybe I didn't have to see the things I see. Maybe I could convince myself that there was some sort of point. That life just isn't a period of time to get through. No, that ain't it. Maybe I could enjoy it at least.

People... People are difficult. People say that I am welcome, but it is so hard to feel it.

Trust. Hard to gain, hard to earn, easy to lose. Both mine and others. I rarely give people details that can hurt or compromise me. I guess it also means that people don't give me details.

I don't know. I am utterly bored with the world today. And I don't know what is true or false anymore. But it is OK. I am pretty ok. I think I actually can love again. Thought I had lost it. Or maybe I am just fooling myself right now. I don't care.

Oder was?

I'm something of a mess right now. Maybe. Maybe not. Things are just spinning around and I can't grab them.

Bleargh.

I feel parts of myself retreating. Retreating back to how I used to be (correction; how I am). Maybe. And at the same time I don't. The more things change the more they stay the same.

I'm feeling quite sardonic. All I really want to do is sitting in a bar, in a corner, sipping dry martinis and look at the world in contempt.

Sort of. Maybe. That's the thing, you know. Nothing is very lucid, if it has ever been that.

I feel a bit dead. And everything I do is just a way of fighting of that feeling. No, not the feeling. The realization. To give myself some illusion, if only for a few moments. And it's kind of hard when you feel like you have absolutely NO interests. No real interests. Just things to keep the realization at bay. Just something to kill time, until time will kill me.

Nothing burns in me. If ever it has.

Got to go to sleep now.

C U.

Completion/Deletion

It's not fair. But then again, life has never been fair. Now has it? Put 6 billion imperfect creatures in a pot and no matter how good the intentions are, there's going to be a impressive multitude of fuck ups and mistakes. So it's not fair. I'm sad and on the verge of crying a bit too often, but the only person around when that happens is basically the only one I can't talk to about it. I believe she sees how sad and troubled I am at times and that probably makes her feel bad. But I can't talk about this with her. I want to, but it will not be right. She'll only feel worse. And I don't want that.

So... It's not fair. But how do you deal with it? I guess I'll have to find out.


On the other hand, I have come to what might be a slight understanding about my own self. I'm still trying to put it into words (and that is harder than you might think), but the bottom line is that the path I have taken might not be so wrong... Or rather, that the place where I am is not a place that other people have shunned because it is the wrong place to be, but they have shunned it because they can't grasp it's existance. And it is not the populace we are talking about here, it is not the herd. It is people I have been a bit envious of and people I respect. It might sound strange and contradictory, but it makes me feel good. It makes me feel less imperfect. It makes me feel like getting here has not been only loss. I have gained something to. Something valuable. Maybe. Or maybe I just have a vivid imagination.

And then there is the usual angst. About not fitting in. And this almost compulsory way of shoving it in the worlds face. I'm tired of acts, of shields, of masks. But then again, these acts and shields and masks are a part of me. Somehow. Somewhere. I just kind of wish that there was something inside me that was undeniably me, and that I just didn't feel like I was a sum of the parts. You know what I mean? I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that the 'salesman'-side of my personality is actually also a part of me, not just a tool. Sure, a lot of the times when I am using that part I am well aware of the fact that I am just using that part of me as a tool in a social game that I don't really care about. I mean, in 90% of the cases I don't care about what people do for a living. But I have discovered that I am pretty good at acting like I do and that makes people feel like´comfortable and I want people to feel comfortable.

I don't know. Everything is such a compromise all the time. I feel like just taking a sócial time out again. It takes so much energy out of me.

Man Syns Inte Ens När Man Fattas

"Älta sitt liv i ofrivillig askes
Bida sin tid i obetydlig parantes
Dväljas i mörker och svälja sitt hat
Jämkas till döds under massors diktat
Halta genom livet med själslig protes
Ånger och änglsan i fullbordad syntes
Leva i känsla av ömhetskastrat
Istället för kärlek ett kallt surrogat

Kärlek och hat - Sorg och celibat
Allt ska med blod beskattas
Ensam och kränkt - Devalverad och sänkt
Man syns inte ens när man fattas

Tusen människor men inte en själ
Ingen har ens tid för ett patetiskt farväl
Likväl ska man offras på gemenskapens estrad
Defilera på de sorglösas parodiska parad
För idel lögner och falska gester
Ackompanjeras så mästerligt av de svurnas orkester
Toner och takt och tungomålstal
Ett kvalfyllt crescendo vid förvisningens final

Sprängda metastaser och inflammerade sår
Ensam idag och osynlig igår
Groteska hallucinationer och en värkande rygg
Stigmatiserad till döds för att få känna sig trygg
Deformerade synapser och punkterat skinn
Påtvingad tystnad som fräter sig in
Blödande magsår en öppen åder
Bland Guds gelikar får man leva på nåder"

"Man Syns Inte Ens När Man Fattas" by Siebensünden


You might say that I don't talk about my problems. There's just a couple of things about that.
1) Once you have said something you are supposed to do something about it, ain't you? I just don't know what it is I am supposed to do. Or how. Or what it is going to change. I have more of a problem with the rest of the world than I have with myself. I guess that's what this blog is all about. I keep rehashing the same old shit all the time in more or less the same way.

2) I talk. I talk in the way I can. I just don't know if I am understood. Maybe I use metaphors and symbols people don't understand or don't have the energy to take in. I can just assure you that I (and this sounds really fucked up, I know. Like this is a game of Cluedo or something) leave clues here and there. Because I don't know how to do it otherwise. Or because I don't dare to do it any other way. I'm sorry for that, but this is my language. It's the way I view the world. Through symbols, quotes, lyrics etc. Tough luck.

I have something else I might deal with here in the future, but right now it needs to be processed a bit more in my head.

I still wish I could just drop it, you know. Just let it fall, like a weight from my shoulders. Just let those have stones be. But I don't know how. It's just stuck on me and in me and it drags me back and down. I feel like I'm looking back at a burned bridge, and on the other side of that bridge I see burned fields and woods. And then I look ahead again. And I see a wasteland. Not a good place to be, but less worse than those burned woods. I just don't see an end to it. Neither of them. Not right now.

Nah, fuck it. I'm going to get drunk soon.

Just wish I didn't feel so alone so often.

Love is a flame...

Been listening to ''Incantation Against'' by Celtic Frost. Not that many people have heard it since it's only available on the vinyl version of 'Monotheist'. It's basically a sumerian or babylonian curse/prayer translated (in part) to english with music added. It is beautiful and, for me, very true. If I thought it would help, if I thought it would work, I would recite it this night. In the end I might regret it, but unfortunately I am not at the end. I fear I am not even close.

Obsessions, possesions and the lack thereof.

What is a life? How do you fight the fact that the only real truth that exist is the fact that there is no point to anything. No REAL point. A de facto result of that is that if you belong to a minority, your thruths are wrong. You do of course know that you are right but it doesn't matter because winners write history. The winners decide what is true. Vae Victis, as it was once said. Woe to the vanquished.

I hate this world and I hate it's rules and I hate the fact that we are just one step away from being apes with sharpened sticks. I would actually prefer if we still were nothing but clever beasts to this... This strange existence where we do not understand what we are.

I feel so utterly alone so often. Alone in a universe that exists for no reason att all, alone in a universe that doesn't care. Alone in a world that cares as long as it doesn't have to pay anything. To quote Frank Castle: ''it works right up until the point that it doesn't.''

Sometimes I just want to take this so far that I am totally abandoned. It would prove me right, if nothing else. And it would be some sort of fucked up vengeance.

Sometimes you just wish for the blue pill, don't you? Blue and alone. Utterly and bitterly.