Protect Life.

This post needs a soundtrack, so head to spotify or youtube and find Eric Serra's "Protect Life."

I was sitting here, listening to this track while reading the news. Thatcher is dead, a photographer who changed American press by forcing through a picture of dead soldiers passed away, a man in Toronto was raped by four women, America is prepared to meet whatever North Korea throws against them or their allies...

I have recently watched all 11 seasons of M*A*S*H and the images of death and horror is all too vivid in my imagination nowadays. It is hard not to be afraid.

But I have a girlfriend I care about, friends who's there for me, family that supports me. That I, so privileged it is embarrassing, should sit in the dark and weep by myself feels somewhat hollow. What right do I have to be unhappy?

The world is a messed up place...

Mirtless smiles

I smile without mirth and laugh without joy. Eyes as void of feeling as the stones at the bottom of the river. Unfocused, uninterested. A flesh-golem if such a thing ever was. But I'm not the only one, no, there are thousands like me, millions. Love taunts us, death tempts us, the realness of reality seems almost surreal. The irony of it all is almost unbearable, yet we bear it, we endure. Without expression we scream in silence, never heard, but I'm not sure if that is the purpose any longer anyways. This is not a call for help or sympathy, this is just a call...

Coffee, whisky and nothing!

It's half past seven in the morning and I haven't had a wink of sleep. Breakfast consists of way too strong coffee, half a glass of whisky, stale bread and some shit I found in the back of the fridge. I've got 4 assignments due, and I'm late writing them. It's a mess, the flat's a mess, I'm a mess, it's my fault and I really don't need that right now. Oh Internet God shouldst thou exist grant me this boon and help me turn things a bit around. You know, for a life or two. I need more coffee and/or more whisky. And a cigar. And some bacon. And some whisky. Can you bacon-wrap coffee? Can't waste my scotch on my coffee as a taste-enhancer so I'd have to think of something else. Well, I say scotch but it's really a little Japanese bastard. Sleepiness is a bitch and I'm its..... something. Can't think clearly.

Bottoms up

My bottoms have all agreed lately. They'd rather be up. I make bad decisions. This much is obvious by this time in life. I look back and I'm blinded by it, which is why I stopped looking back, it's way too depressing. I said...well, I thought it at least, the last time, that I'd give it time for once, for only with time can the future grow properly. Hmpf, patience. I hate patience sometimes... That guy's a bitch, only postponing what's fun and all. and meanwhile I look at it all.... you have kids, great. your fiancé is awesome, great. sinning is a sin, f***ing fantastic. And I look at my phone. Not that it is more interesting. Not that I don't know what the time is. Not that I find any of you interesting.... It's just the opposite. But I can't help it. Spectacle of life, give me fun won't ya? But it can't be helped, or blamed. Maybe I oughta write something, anything. Whatever and whomever, wherever. My lips burn with the taste of years, and I spot death in its grotesque leer.

Bigger pictures

Saw Imogen Heap live the other day, and as I was standing there, listening to the smooth sounds coming out of her musical talent I had a sensation. It was sort of like in V for Vendetta when Finch has been to Larkhill and tells his collegue "I suddenly had this feeling that everything was connected. It's like I could see the whole thing, one long chain of events that stretched all the way back before Larkhill. I felt like I could see everything that happened, and everything that is going to happen. It was like a perfect pattern, laid out in front of me." Not a perfect match, but for an instant it felt like it all had a meaning, and that all the shit I've gone through haven't really been for nothing, and if I just endure a bit longer it'll all make sense to me. It was just a feeling, so I'm not sure how wise it is to linger to long in thought upon it, but it cheered me up, and I really needed that. 

Loneliness

So, time has once again chosen to deal me the card of The Loner, and as such I must prevail. Nothing more than a lonely spirit in the halls of life, haunting them in a somewhat faint hope of being acknowledged one day. Some have called me names indicating that I am a sexual predator and worse, and how wrong they are in their assumptions. Sex, as it is, is a lovely activity, in which I have to admit I enjoy to partake in, but it is hardly anywhere close to the reason for my loneliness. Sex in itself is NOT what I seek, or miss. I shall not say far from it, for that would indicate an opinion I do not stand for, but it is but a small, yea, almost unimportant part of that which I miss. And what IS it indeed that I long for so much, so much that I have written so much about it without mentioning it once? I miss the comfort, the very presence of that other half. I miss the feeling of falling asleep; stepping into the abyss of sleep, together with a person that means the world to me..... and I fear, in the very depth of what is my heart, that I shall never have that sensation fully again. I fear with every fiber that is me, that that door is forever closed.

Theory of miserable!

It would seem my theory still holds water. I'm heartbroken, broke and ill, and I've already written about as much in 3 days as I have in the months I've been somewhat content. So here you have me, a broken, battered shell of a man, writing to the vast emptiness of internet. It's funny how useful this seemingly useless activity really is. This is in truth the only place where one can be asshole, saint, cunt and cock all at the same time.

"The internet, where men are men, women are men and children are FBI-agents" 

Error. Retry?

So, I've made some mistakes during my time. Many mistakes... Quite the amount. But what separates me from a lot of people, I now realize, is that I usually try to learn from it. Surely, there's a whole lot of people out there who learns from it as well, probably the majority of people even, but there are still too many people who manages to get by totally oblivious to their many faults. People who treat everyone around them horribly, and in the same breath as they act outrageously rude or downright obnoxious, they berate you for a meaningless detail. And such rotten personalities are so common that the regular man adjusts himself after it, makes room for it. A character trait so disgusting that it should have been stomped out ages ago, dictates how we are supposed to feel and act and we're fucking clapping along with it.....

Drunk and all that jazz

I cannot spell, or write anything remarkably coherent. But I will write this, as a warning to my fellow men..... or something.

You may be in the illusion of providing Indian food at 5 Am, but this is a lie. So there. In x hours I will have the pleasures of eating bacon + nan-bread. right.

I had a small debate today on the topic of christianity and science. With creationists. Because they're not batshit insane or anything. It occurred to me that such a level of denial impossibly can be healthy in the long run. There was reason to hope that this age where knowledge can be obtained with little effort, there wouldn't be anyone thinking that way. They are basically the people sitting by their computers with their pop-tarts or something like that, arguing fanatically that ALL science is bad. Are they completely unable to see the missing piece of logic in their life at this point? Or are they truly longing to return to the days when hunting and foraging was the bomb? I'll never get these people I fear, and it actually makes me a bit sad. In danger of sounding arrogant beyond belief it almost feels like they have a disease and I'm unable to cure it.

Long time

So it seems my promise from earlier this year is proving hard to keep. I am not too surprised really, but I had hoped I'd be able to update this blog frequently. But I haven't forgotten it completely, as this here post shows. Currently I'm suffering through the annual work-camp where I put up with living at my mother's place so that I can make some money to pay rent and all those things so vital to live. And this year, no different from the one before that, this is the very definition of boring. Only big difference is that I'm playing Starcraft and Magic instead of WoW. I am compelled to write something here about my actual person life, but I feel that would be somewhat wrong, so there you have something interesting to guess. Make up something nice and all that.

Happy happy happyha ppyhap pyhappyhap

It is true what I've said earlier about not having anything to write about when you're happy. I think this has to do with the fact that you spend so much more time doing the things that make you happy, that writing blogs like this just becomes a chore rather than a pleasure. This is not always true though, and by no means do I write this as a chore, ever. I believe this time in my life can be described as some of the happiest I've ever seen. For once all seems to be right in the world; I have the most fantastic girlfriend, my LP-player and related music-network are up and working perfectly and my flat is now almost as I wanted it from the start. In other words: things are starting to be as they should, according to me that is. To say it in the words of the man I long to become one day: The sun is out, I have a cold beer and a glass of scotch, [insert good band name here] is playing on the record player and I sit here with the love of my life, what have I got to complain about? Now as all these things are true now as well, I feel they have to have a few years of maturing before their full meaning come into effect. And when they do I'll be the single most happy man in this world.

LP-heaven

Got the LP-player today so now I'm mere moments away from being able to enjoy fantastic retro tunes. All I need now are two speakers I'm all set. So, yea, closing in fast here. On an unrelated note, I'm happy. Well, it's not completely unrelated, but it's not the main reason why I'm happy, the real reason being far more "red" than that. And, yes, happiness manifests through different colors. Take for an example black, black happiness being the feeling you get inside when someone gets hurt or you've gotten revenge. Blue is the happiness that relieves the pain, like Whisky happiness or self-pity, red is the happiness of love and compassion while white is the happiness of religion or other self-delusions. And so on and so forth. My point is that I feel in love, and it's a great feeling to have. Yea. 

Bad Music-Day

Today is obviously a Bad Music-Day. Now you might wonder what that is. That is the sort of day where you browse songs for ages before you maybe, if you're lucky, find one track that suits your mood. It's terribly annoying really, because you know the track that's about to start is one of your favorite songs, but you just can't make yourself to listen to it. If I could just get myself to listen to that song I'd be in a better mood, I'm sure, but it's as impossible to listen to as nails on a blackboard. So I hope this resolves soon. Maybe I shouldn't have slept for 10 hours...

March-trix revisited

So I remember myself writing something about hoping March would be good. Seems March became more than merely good. March was friggin' awesome! I've meet Her, and I think she's the one. She's the Juliet to my Romeo, the apple to my cinnamon, the Miao to my Mreow ^^So yet again my theory on how increase in happy feelings lead to decrease in blog-post proves right it may seem. But I'll try my best in writing occasionally nonetheless. My writings are after all a window into my soul. MMmmmmmmm souls *drools*

Falling

Never before have a step been so hard. But then again, never again have a misstep had such dire consequences. There is no bottom to be seen anymore, nor has it been for quite a while. I've reached the top now, with no ways other than back the way I came or over the edge. I close my eyes; despite the great view this is not a place to be because of the view, not just the view at least. There's the smells, the soft touch of wind on my skin; through my beard and hair, the exited heartbeats, the sweet symphony of the winds' many voices. I let myself enjoy each sensation as I work my way through all the distractions to the very core of my being; my heart. And as I beg for advice it just tells me one thing; "Open your eyes." So I do, and all the senses rush back over me as a flood of confusion before I can see what is going on. I'm falling already, and it suddenly hits me; I've been falling since I first set foot on this path. All the while my fear of falling had been working to cover up the fact that I was already falling, and all I ever had to do was ask my heart, from the very beginning. It feels kind of relieving, as well as scary, to know that all I can do now is wait and see what happens. 

Reality or perfect madness

So finally real-life came along and showed me that dreams indeed are inferior to the real deal. And how! Either that or I'm on the express train to wacky-land and my dreams have finally stepped in to take over. Either way around in very happy with what the last few days have decided to bring me. To such an extent that I'm a bit short of words to be truly honest. Don't know what I can say, don't know what I should say and least of all do I know if I must say anything. Maybe it's enough to say, I'm feeling good, world. Thank you so much! Yea that'll do, for now.

Charades

So it's Sunday, or rather it was, at the time I started writing this. By now it's probably Monday already. And by the time you read this it might be some other day altogether, so let's just say it's Sunday for the record. I spared you all from a terrible drunken rambling last night. I know you might get to like them a bit but I wasn't really in the zone, you know, the Twilight Zone. Spooky! I was more in the coma-on-the-verge-of-collapse-zone. So I went to my bed, my big, empty bed, and drifted into a very hungry sleep... Seeing how I forgot to eat and all that. Like you do. Tried tidying up the place a bit this morning to compensate though. Failed a bit, but still looks better than it did yesterday. I wanted to write today, but my head went "Fuck Of" and that was the end of that. Might try again later on, if I can't sleep; an not to unlikely scenario considering the 3 cups of coffee I've ingested today. That and the difficulty presented in convincing your heart to calm the fuck down! It's beating again nowadays, and it really keeps one up long hours thinking. Darn that heart! It's the Tell-tale Heart, I swear. I've tried burying it underneath the floorboards but it just keeps on thumping along in its own pace, not even considering the fact that I might be too afraid of it still. The heart is after all the scoundrel of whom most often gets you into trouble, and then often trouble that can have no remotely happy ending.

Oh.... Well... I was planning a proper ending to this but there seems to have been a slight change in my plans... So yea

March

So I flipped the calendar and found March waiting there for me. No March is of course I look forward to mainly because of two things: Easter break from my classes, and the party occasion formerly known as my birthday. Both things are two fine thing which I hope I'm able to cherish as much as they deserve this year. B-day-plans include bbq, scotch and music. And friends of course. Easter I hope will follow the pattern: sleep, drink, eat, game, sleep again, repeat. If this goes at least somewhat according to plan I think I'll have a great month of March indeed. Other than that, has anything interesting things happened? Hmmmm, I don't really know. There might be some interesting things happening, but then again who am I to know. So I'll just cut this short right here. Until next time!

Whisky and My Immortal

Whisky and My Immortal on a Saturday night. That can only mean one thing: the blues are here again. It's usually like fighting of a looming madness, but not tonight, tonight I invited it in to keep me company. Maybe that is a sure sign the looming madness finally won? Maybe I'm finally so used to this that I'm too afraid of the alternative to really want anything else? That's a scary thought for sure, but what if...? It seems happiness is a Hollywood concept, created to sell movies to a mass whose need for hope is an endless pit. So I let the strong fluid play around in my mouth, burning my tongue as it passes over before it launches down my throat, leaving a trail of taste and numb sensations in its wake. And I convince myself I like it, because in fact I do. It has become a part of me through these years. And I like that. It sort of acknowledges the sense of sadness that haunts my soul on nights like this. It does nothing to really sooth it, just respects it for what it is and sits there like a friend as company. Put on some music that touches your soul as well, and the soul lets itself cry for a while; exorcising the demons so that it can go on for a little while longer. Looking at the stars you realize that you're not really small, it's just the universe that is to damned big...