Galloping through the ruins

I guess what it comes down to is that I am trying to make some kind of peace. That I am coming to terms. I have no illusions that this is the end or something like that. I am fully aware of that there will most likely be more pain in the future. But I believe that I might be passing some kind of bump now. Maybe. I hope so.

I guess E. was right. You have to find a new relationship. Maybe it's better. Maybe it's worse. Maybe it's just different. The thing is this: I have a hard time with changes. In many ways I'm very conservative. Not when it comes to values (well...) or politics, but in my life. But I am it out of fear. I fear change. I genuinly fear change. And I have done so my whole life. Other people might have though it exciting to start school when they were kids. I remember it in every way as a genuinly frightening experience. Every step of the way. Other people might think that moving is an exciting thing. I loathe it. I fear it. On the other hand, the move I am about to take fills me with some sort of joy. It absolutely terrifies me, but it also feels... For the first time it feels exciting. I am desperately trying to hold on to that feeling, and though the prospect of moving this safe haven that I am in now fills me with sadness and melancholy it actually gets easier every day to think about the fact that I will be living by myself.

What I on the other hand have noticed is that I have a hard time functioning normally when I am living alone. Like now, because S. is out of town. And when she was down at SRF i felt how my little black pit was beckoning me. Although me and S. are living very separate lives and keep very different hours I still find it easier to go to sleep when someone else is sleeping near by.

I guess I will learn that trick to. The thing is that it's quite ease for me to stay awake even when I am dead tired. I guess it is because of my previous job which sometimes required you to stay awake for 20 hours in a row. For maybe 5 days straight.

I don't know...

On a complete sidenote, one thing that I just managed to put my finger on is that I'm really fed up with having to defend, or feel like I have to defend what I am, what I listen to and what I like. I'm really fucking tired of people trying to be funny and trying to be ironic about what lies really close to my heart. Like ironic 'cursing.' "Fuck forever off" to put it in the words of H. I will probably be accused of having no distance to myself, and do you know what I have to say about that? You are absolutely right. In some ways I have absolutely no distance to some things. After years of being slightly ashamed of what I like etc. because it might look "objectively" silly I have come to the conclusion that it just doesn't fucking matter. Looking at things "objectively" can F.O.A.D.I.F. What I wish for now is that the rest of the world that doesn't get it just stays the fuck away from things it doesn't understand and just acknowledge the fact that it doesn't get it. I do that all the time. There's a shitload of things that people do and is that I think is silly and stupid etc. but I just get on with it. It has nothing to do with me. Sure, I might not appreciate it, but that doesn't mean that I have to make fun of it. What I think other people do that is silly and stupid is just their version of what I do that they think is silly and within their cultural framework/context it is probably immensely correct. So just leave it. Leave it alone if you don't get it. We don't need you, you don't need us. Let's just agree to disagree and we can get back to our particular cultural illusions. Trying to do something else, trying to have som fucking dick measuring contest is like... It's not even like comparing apples with pears, it's like comparing water with fire (and on another plane it might be like comparing boiling water with ice).

If you don't get what I am talking about, I am talking about people that thinks that metal is just something that yu can make fun of. I got news for you: "heavy metal parking lot" is taking place in one part of America in a specific period in time. It's not reality.

Blaaah. If I might seem a bit grumpy it's because I just had a go at the disgusting whisky. It tastes worse than ever.