The Dreamweaver

There is a place
Between here and there
Where dreams are true
And nightmares real

The fabric of reality is thin with wear
And the monsters of tomorrow is hiding there

The skies are black
no stars are seen
the angels weep
for the lost souls

The fabric of reality is thin with wear
And the monsters of tomorrow is hiding there

Here the Dreamweaver makes her home
Between the battles of the flowers
and the call of injustice

She wears no color
but in her eyes
I see the future of bright light
She holds the key to all

The fabric of reality is thin with wear
And the monsters of tomorrow is hiding there

Oh Dreamweaver make me a dream
It seems so real
Make her love so strong
Make her love so sweet

Let me close my eyes
and pretend
Let the lies wash away
let the love last

The fabric of reality is thin with wear
And the monsters of tomorrow is hiding there

Let it be a dream of green
of luscious orange and blue
Let the dream have purple colors
And sand between my toes

Have the image stay with me
Through the world of tears
Oh Dreamweaver, I beg of you,
Let me keep my dream.



I just sat and watched a loved one explain, with tears in his eyes because of the pain of the experiences this have brought him, that he wishes he wasn't that intelligent. That he looked on the people of his ages with envy of their easy life. That what he really wanted, was to be like them. All he had to worry about was the next party, and who dated whom. He cursed his intelligence, and the responsibilities it had brought him. He found it unfair, that it is so much harder to attain what would make him happy, than what his classmates have to attain to make them happy.

See, this is something I just don't understand. Through all the shit I've been through, the only constant have been my intelligence. The only thing I can count on is that. Yes, it sucks having the responsibility it brings, and when I was younger, I tried to denounce that responsibility. But now, I am grateful for it, and the possibilities it brings. I can do great things. I can actually accomplish things, stuff that other people will never even comprehend.

I am not saying that my intelligence is far superior to all other beings, just that I have potential to actually make a difference. And that is something I will do. I want to make a difference, and having the resources given to me like that is so much more than I could wish for. With intelligence, one can accomplish anything!



Why is it that everything I do, turn into something geeks? I understand the geekiness in RPG's and computer, but I manage to turn something relatively simple and sober into full-blown geekiness. Why? Can't I just be normal and non-geeky for once? Why is it, that every time something catches my attention I always end up knowing obscure things about that particular thing? Like movies. I realized that I know stupid things, about actors that I don't even especially like. How do I know stuff like that? Why do I remember that, when I can't even remember the date of my sisters birthday? Is it because I am so used to having geek-friends that I know they love obscure facts about obscure things? Or is the geekiness perhaps a genetically defect? Or maybe the next step in evolution? Hmm. One thing is for sure: Non-geeks perceive me as almost to geek to function.

And from the LPoTD archives:

Why do geeks love geeks girls, as soon as they have just relatively good looks? If, as a geek, you compliment a girl: "You're like totally cha 18, and I mean that with all of my heart, even if I had been Lord Soth and completely chaotic evil", it's nice that she understands..

Haunting dreams

It's been awhile. How are you guys?

On dreams:
Well. I am having these haunting dreams, and the problem is, I can't remember them when I awake. Makes it a bit difficult to find out, where the problem lies, doesn't it? I have a notion, though. I started meditating the other day, and the weird dreams started there. I must have some issues, that I have to get sorted. That is a high priority tonight.

On old thought-patterns:
Also. Am I really comfortable with that whole new way of looking at life? I like it, ofcourse, but am I really comfortable or is the prospect of actually living life scaring the shit out of me? Enough so, that I am starting to think in the old pattern of husband, kids and a career? Or am I just starting to find yet another truth in life?

On caring about each other:

My thoughts go out to my beloved these days. He is really going through hell. I wouldn't want to be in his shoes, I can tell you that much! But what can I do, really? Not much, all I try to do is be there for him. It's his life, and as much as I'd like to, I can't live it. He tells me not to worry, but I can see how deeply troubled he is, how can I not worry, when I care so much about him?

On religion:
I am pursuing my religion again. Spend Samhain being to exhausted to do much, and looking forward to Yule. I don't celebrate Christmas, but my entire family is gathered this year, so you'll find me there too. It's funny, how most of the people I talk to love the holidays, and yet they are not Christian. It's like they conveniently forget that the reason they give gifts is because of Jesus. I don't like that trait in people. At least make a stand! As Bill Hicks said: "But you gotta admit that beliefs are odd! A lot of Christians wear crosses around their necks.. You think if Jesus ever comes back, he wants to see a f****** cross again?"


Movies, part II

Am watching James Bond - The Spy Who Loved me. It is really funny to see a movie that old display what was at that time state of the art gadgets. I laughed heartedly, and asked my parents, whom I was watching the movie with, if we were gonna laugh that much I 20 years about today's movies. My stepfather answered: Well, yes. Some might say we are laughing about them now. At least, I replied, our fighting is better choreographered than that. So my point? No point! Just wanted to tell more about one of my great hobbies.

I watched a movie the other day, Kongekabale. A Danish movie, an therefore untranslatable. It must be for Danes, what Fahrenheit 9/11 is for the Americans, except for the fact that the Danish movie is fiction.. Or at least it claims to be. A very good commentary to the Danish government and the political system at large. It's been quite awhile since I last watched a Danish movie, and actually enjoyed it. For all of you Danes out there: Watch it!



So. Now I have all these things, that I haven't told about, because I have been to busy to blog. And as an update, I don't know if any of them makes sense. But then again: I don't know if any of my previous postings makes sense, so I'll just go ahead.


I went to see M. Night Shaymalans The Village the other day. I am often surprised that movies like that offer no surprise to me, what so ever. For those of you, who haven't yet seen it, I will not carry on my rant about this particular movie, but move one to the more general aspect: For years I was convinced that my inability to be surprised had something to do with me being a roleplayer, and having witnessed so many scenarios played out on my inner screen, I had seen it all. But that was not it. Many of my friends, all of whom play, are still very much surprised of those kind of movies. Like the Sixth Sense and The Usual Suspects, just to name the ones on top of my head. Neither had the impact on me, that they had on my friends. Don't get me wrong, I truly enjoyed them, I love movies, but I saw it coming. The "surprising plottwist, that no one expected, and that turns the movie upside down". Even though I did see it coming, I just enjoyed the movie even more, seeing the subtle hints, that are placed throughout the movie, instead of just recalling them, when the movie is done. I like my way of seeing movies. But I do wish that I could be surprised, and just once leave the cinema with an expression of awe, and a feeling that I sooo did not see it coming.

I like jokes.

I was told a joke the other day. I didn't get it at first. So I turned to my partner in crime: Morten, my fellow humor-enjoyer, and author of LPoTD - Lousy Pun of The Day, and told him the joke. He didn't get it either. Why do I tell you this? There are two reasons: First my surprise, and second, his answer. But I am being premature here, let's go back to the story. So the surprise is this: First of, I am told a joke, that I haven't heard yet, that is pretty special, it doesn't happen that often, but then I tell it to Morten, and he hasn't heard it yet either. Now, between us two, a joke that is new to both of us is something of a rarity. I don't recall that has happened ever before. And then neither of us understood it. See that is even more surprising. We were with some friends, cooking dinner when that happened, and one of the girls starting giggling, and explained the joke to us. It wasn't really all that funny, but quite witty, and a good pun. No, sorry folks, it is, like so many other puns, intranslatable. Ofcourse, Morten and I were crestfallen, and the girl asked why we reacted like that. And Morten answered: Because we are the ones around here, who prize ourselves as being the masters of jokes. Now this is where my obsession kicks in, and I start thinking about this. Not right away, of course, but over the next couple of days. And once I start obsessing, I see all sorts of ghosts. What did he mean by that, I think. And when the first couple of days had passed, and I still hadn't found an answer, I started obsessing about obsessing, and thinking, why do I so obsess about this? The point to my story? It is actually at the beginning. I like jokes. And a joke that is new, is something of a rarity..

I am sick.

I hate being sick. I am really lousy at it too. I try to snuggle up in bed, watch movies and get better. But I really do suck at it. I always end up feeling sorry for myself, and people hate being around me. So when I am sick, I end up alone and bitter. I hate being sick..



She lies awake
A smile on her lips
A kiss still lingers there.

Her heart pumps heavily under her naked breasts
Her hips twitches with desire
She close her eyes and dreams
of things to happen later
Right now she is content
To wait a little longer

An hour pass
she's still awake
Her eyes try to force his open

But no amount of desire
will wake him from his slumber

Still she quivers with desire
Her skin remembers his touch
A flash of pain as she recall
the love they made last night

Another hour he still sleeps
her fingers touch his cheek
It's cold for the touch
but she notice not
her body hot from fevered desire

She kisses his brow
her heart leaps with joy
she think she sees him flinch
But there is not enough kisses in the world
To make him open his eyes

An hour more she lies awake
The night pales into day
Still she look at his eyes and will him to blink
So he can take her in his arms
and make the nightmare go away

And hour more, the sunshine blaze
She gives up, and tries to shake him softly
But his blank eyes stare at the ceiling
And he doesn't make a move

Now the anger flares in her again
She pushes her knees against him
But her gown only stains
With the blood from his wound
And he's dead and cold beside her.


I Had A Dream

I had a dream.

I dreamt that I was flying. I was flying over fields of green and brown. It was spring or fall, and the earth was bare. I was holding hand with my younger sister. See, I was going to the fairies, and she had to come. I had been there previously, and promised her, that she could go too. Our parents tried to follow, but their flight soon faltered, and they had to proceed on foot. I wanted them to come along, so I slowed my speed. I don't remember much of my previous visit, but I know that there are people there, that I know. The world of fairies is a curious one, you soon forget them. That is the way they prefer it, that is their security system. But I wanted to get my family there, so off we went, before the magic was gone. As I was flying, I could feel it fade. I was loosing altitude, and was soon touching and setting off from the ground at a faster and faster pace. But I made it! I came to Faerie, just as the magic was gone. I had my younger sister, and our parents. We landed a a large farm, and the nice farmers invited us in. I told them about my stay, about the people I knew, and they promised to contact them. The wife was going to get some supplies and, leaving my family behind, I decided to go along, because I wanted to find a gift to my love.

Arriving at the store, I saw several shelves of beautiful things. What I wanted was an amulet, something with strong magic in it. I knew money was not an option, how I knew, I don't know. I was looking at these amulets, the next more dazzling, more beautiful, with more magic than the previous, and still it was not good enough. I wanted something special, as special as my love, and I could not find a present for him. I could not, even though I looked at all the amulets in the store. I wanted something special, and not even fairy-magic was good enough for him.

Unfortunately I awoke before I found a suitable present. I am theorizing that I would never find such a thing, though I would have loved to see it in my dream. I I had dreamt it, then perhaps I could tell him about it, describe it. Perhaps he would then understand how much I love him. Alas, that is not to be. There is no gift that would be good enough, to show how much I love him. Not even in my perfect dreamworld could I conceive such a gift.

Something occurred to me: Maybe the reason that I couldn't find a suitable gift amongst the magic amulets, was that they were not as magical as something I have already given him, the most magical of all things: My love.



So a friend of mine gave me a parting message, that he is not worth my friendship. Then he was offline, and I was unable to write back. What is that about?

First of: He is worth it. I love him as the dear friend he is. It's almost insulting me, that he thinks of our friendship that way. It's a 2-way buisness, and we are equals in that. We have to be, otherwise it wouldn't be a friendship. Then it would be more of a mentor and a pupil-sort of relationsship. It's ok for me to talk to kids that way, but not to friends. I could never have a meaningful friendship, if I didn't get anything out of it too.

Second: Well, I don't need a second, cause my first said it all!

Sweetie, know that you are worth every second I think of you, just as I am worth every second you spend on me. That's what it's all about! I am looking forward to seeing you again! Take care!


I am in love. There's no denying it. To the friends I had before, I am trying to degrade it. "He is only 19", I tell them, "It's so uncomplicated". They nod, pretend they understand, and I smile: "He sees me as a Goddess. You don't get that in the average guy!" And then the girls smile knowingly. "You don't get that often", they agree. The thing is, he does see me as a Goddess, just as much as I see him as a God. And it is very uncomlicated. I love him. Period. But it's more than just love..

I feel like a wave washes over me, every time I think of him. It's either very hot, or very cold. Sometimes it feels like it's washing me away, and sometimes I am riding it towards my destination. How cruel the mere thought of being without him. When I close my eyes, I can almost feel his presence. Just beyond my reach, on the outskirts of my inner vision. I think he is there all the time. I have bonded my life to him, a life-bond. I can't breath, when I look into his eyes. It's like my life suddenly makes sense, that all the things I want to do is all of the sudden possible. I can do whatever I set my mind to. I can even dare dream again.

But now I am also afraid of loosing him. It's not something I consider often, but when the thought brushes me, I feel the fear grip me. And every time I say goodbye, and watch him go, I feel like I miss some part of myself, that I don't get back, till I see him again. When I am with him, I feel hole. I have never felt this way before, both intimidated and ready for life. It scares me, and I love it. I love him.

So to all of you out there, who find my life mildly interesting, know this: I love him with all of my being. I want to tell the whole world. I will not degrade it anymore, even if it is easier to avoid the questions. Even if he is only 19. Even if there's a lot of ifs'. I love him..



I went to see Catwoman with Halle Berry yesterday. First my review, and then the political debate, that is the real reason I am posting this:

I like the movie. It's fun and has good catchphrases, but the setup of Catwoman, I being a marvel-fan, promises so much more. I will give it 5 stars. 1 for the movie, and 4 for Halle Berry's behind in leatherpants, Cause - boy! Is it HOT!?!

And then the political debate: Why is it they casted a black woman as Catwoman? In the original series, she is so obvious white, why did they find it necessary to cast a black woman? Because they have to be politically correct? Well, f*** it! They didn't make Hell Boy Blue, right? And while I have nothing against Halle Berry in that leathersuit, I could definitely put names to a dozen white chicks that would look even hotter, Angelina Jolie just to name one. I know, they wouldn't want to cast her, because of her previous engagement as Lara Croft, but there are many more, where that came from. I remember the good ol' Michelle Pfeiffer-days. When Catwoman was not a picture-"purrrfect", but none the less hot. Her lips in that mask made many a man wish he was Batman. I liked the old Catwoman much better: More leather, and less clean. I say: Next time, spend the millions on the movie, not the actress. In this case, she is NOT worth it!


A split-second

I have done something, that I would never have believed possible: René has just finished up a job on one of the tallest buildings in Aarhus. His job was to rapelle down the side of the building, replacing some bolts on the way. Well, the other day he was at my place, just hanging, and he told me that he had to go tidy up at the roof afterwards, and, knowing how much heights scare me, he invited me along. (He has this thing, about facing you fears, and he is still absolutely positive, that my fear of heights will seize once I confront them. They haven't yet, but..) At first I was terrified at the mere thought of being that high in the air, so I refused blankly. But after some time, I realized that I will probably never get a chance like that again. The job was a one-timer for him, and even if he was going back in a couple of years, who knows if I still know him by then? So I figured: "What the Hell!?", and went along. It was terrifying, but not nearly as much as I had imagined. And after about half an hour clinging to the wall, I was actually able to move more freely around. And as long as I didn't think to much, it wasn't that scaring after all. It was a fantastic experience. A couple of days later, I actually did the mistake of thinking, even if only for a split-second, about falling down from that roof, and the fear soon had it's tight grip on me once again. See.. Normally I am not afraid of falling down from high places. What really scares me, is that I am really impulsive, and I am afraid that one day, my impulse will be to jump, and I will throw myself from a place like that. I am not afraid of falling, I am afraid of jumping. What if I go crazy, and just for one second believe that I can fly? One second is all it takes, for me to throw away my life when I am in a place like that.


Untold story

A life less ordinary
A story never told
Some people giving kisses to their other self
I watch them all from a distance
Their pitiful expressions does not bother me
I know my story will be told, I tell them
The story of a life less ordinary
The untold story that will be told one day


Kids II

First of, I'd like to say thanks to all of you, who think I would make a great mom. It's nice to hear, thanks.

But. I really don't want kids. Bringing them up, without shattering their hopes and beliefs against the coldness of the world, is almost impossible. Without destroying their ability to believe in a better world. Without hate and suffering.

Even if you succeed in bringing them up, sheltered from the world, so their childhood is a loving one, they do eventually grow up, and face the harsh reality of our world.

How do you explain to a kid, that other people kill, because they don't like the way we believe in God? How do you explain, that people die of hunger everyday, because we live the way we do? How do you explain that we spend millions to prevent pollution, and yet so many people drive around their cars alone, because it's more comfortable? See, I don't even get it, so why would I be so cruel, as to put a kid here, who will eventually ask those questions of me - Questions I cannot, could never answer?


Home alone

So I am alone tonight. Utterly and completely alone. Scares the living shit out of me. So I chat. Which is ok, I guess. Used to be a very big part of my life, which I have put aside for my beloved, together with quite a few other things. But that will I cease to do, or I shall cease to exist.

I am still terrified of the dark, but as I have gotten older, I have learned to control the fear. Of course, sometimes my fear gets the better of me, and I end up staying awake till I fall asleep exhausted, and unable to think, much less focus on my fear. I used to say, that it's not the darkness without that scares me, but the darkness within, but that's not entirely true anymore. I have gotten to know my darkness, and learned to accept it. Now it is only the darkness without that scares me. And boy does it do that! And if you've never had a panic-attack, you'll have no clue as to why it can control me that much. When in a panic, you just can't think. No rational thoughts surfaces. There's only the thing that made you panic in the first place. For me it's fear. When I panic, the fear tightens its grip on me, and it will not let go, till I pass out. Then there's blissful moments of nothingness, and sometimes I pass over in sleep, without waking up. When that happens, my mornings are always a bit disoriented. Of course, now I should really write this in past-tense. I haven't had an attack like that in years. But the memories are still very vivid.


On Goodbyes

I hate saying goodbye to him. It's like a little part of me dies, every time I see him go. Sure I put on a brave smile, and parade that around, but inside I am hurting. It hurts so much I could cry. So why does it hurt so much? The obvious reason is, that I love him, and want to be with him, and just underneath that, there is of course my fear of loosing him, and never seeing him again. When that thought surfaces, I feel completely cold, like I could die of the ice inside me. Ever fallen into water that is way too cold? The inability to breath hits me like a wall of bricks, and I feel nauseous. But aside from that, why else do I hate it so?

When I close my eyes, I can still feel his presence, so close, that if I reach out I can almost touch him. His smell still lingers in the air, and I can feel his imprint on my lips. But when I open my eyes, he's gone. I can't help myself, I feel utterly lost when he's not around.


Do I want kids?

No, not really. Unless the world changes. I find it cruel to bring a kid up in this world. I remember very clearly when I realised that the world wasn't all sunshine and butterflies. And the more I grow, the crueler it gets. I could not bring myself to do that to a kid.. I would rather try and change the world for those that experience the cruelty, victims of war and famine.. I belive I can make their lifes a little bit better.. I belive we all should try to.


The horrors of every-day life

I don't have a real education. I haven't stuck to anything more than a year since I left primary school. Except this job. A year and a half. Yippie! My point is this: Why do I shift from place to place, unable to be satisfied with the same thing for more than a couple of months? Am I really the ultimate product of my generation, the generation zap? No, I don't think so. I believe that my life should be interesting and that I should do something fulfilling with it. That when I wake up in the morning, I shouldn't dread the thing I woke up to. Ofcourse, everyone has their periods of utter dislike for what they do, I know that. I just don't want it to be like that all the time. Is a fulfilling life to much to ask for?



Day one:

We arrived at the Airport about two hours earlier than we were supposed to, and when we checked in, we were informed that the plain was about two hours late. We sat down and played some backgammon and watched some telly. It was really hot, so eventually we decided to go outside in the gardens. There we met some guys who offered beers. As I rarely drink I declined, but Anna would like some. As we sat there, it started to rain so we went inside. The plain got later and later. Eventually at about 1.30 we were told that the plain had taken of from Stansted, so it would arrive a couple of hours later.

Day two

4.30 - local time
Finnally at the hotel. I am ehausted, but now Anna is wide awake. A big day later, meeting Joe AND seeing London by day-light. I am a bit dissappointed now, but will probably enjoy myself much more when I actually get to see something for real, and not through a bus-window.

In the bus I pointed and said: "Oh look - fog!" And Anna replied: "Oh look - The Marble Arch!" :) Much better at sight-seeing than I am..

21.45 - local time
Got back from Joe's. His place really IS smaller than mine.

Day three

22.10 - local time
Been to Camden all day, shopping. Anna went beserk! :) I bought a small fairy, really beautiful! Anna is going to Soho tonight, visiting the places she used to frequent when she lived here. I am just staying in. don't want to be a burden, and also my book is really really good.

Day four

14.19 - local time
At the British Museum of Natural History. The entrance was an unbelieveable sight. Impossible to explain. The light was dimmed, blue and red, and your were welcomed by Atlas with a globe on his shoulders. A lot of other greek gods were there too. The walls were painted like the starry night, and a huge cupper-globe marked the entrance to the earth-exhibition. Couple that with the weirdest music played on an antenna, and you got the feeling of being somewhere extra-terrastial, or perhaps intra-terrastial. Hmm..

day five

00.30 - local time
We just realised that we were supposed to be on a plane yesterday. :) So now we are trying to find out what to do. Jonas is helping from Denmark.

11.30 - local time
Just arrived at Gatwick airport to get the tickets. We are going home with Maersk air. Met Tony, one of the guys who bought us beer, he was supposed to go home yesterday too, and missed his plane too. :) I am really looking forward to getting back to Denmark.

18.45 - local time
Finally home. And now I am actually hungry, haven't eaten anything today, been to exited about going home.


Puff the Magic Dragon

Puff the Magic Dragon. Where I work, a webpage with Puff was send around to me and my collegues, and this actually started a huge argument, because some of the girls, including myself, started crying a bit. Most of the men found this silly. Here's my point, and the reason that I cried: As some might have noticed, I am a dreamer. The land of Honalee is obviously a dreamland, and for Jackie Paper not to go there anymore, it would have to be because that dream had died. I cannot imagine anything more sad, than a dream ceasing to exist, except if that dream comes true, and therefor no longer is a dream. The dreams and imaginations of a child is sacred to me. I remember the very second one of my childhooddreams ceased to exist, and that still fills me with terror. So everyone: Never tell a kid, that Santa isn't real, or that the Easterbunny doesn't exist. A child has the right to stay innocent and dreaming as long as possible. They will wake up to the very harsh reality ot the world soon enough!


I would life my life rather like the ocean, with big waves and huge falls, than like a lake, with no waves on it. I like the big emotions. Not that I have a choice, really. When I love, I love till it hurts, and when I hurt, I hurt so much I want to die.



As long as one develops, one will live. I could never come to a stand-still in my personal growth. A friend of mine has flowered so these past weeks, that he is slowly becoming a full person. I love seeing it, and I try to help the best I can, though it can be difficult sometimes, when you're not really around to give a hug, and the likes.
Anyways, I was talking to him on the net, and I was so glad he was better, that I told him, his happiness made me happy. He then said, that my happiness made him happier. And suddenly we had started a chainreaction, and we ended up on this cloud of happiness. I was almost high. It was SO good to him better.
So, the point to all this: Smile to the next person you meet. Be happy. It might save their day, and thus save yours, when they smile back.



A friend died. And it was really tragic too. He died of smoke poisoning, because a fire started in his kitchen. The tragic part is, that the fire died out, and had he not been there, nothing would have happened. Why is it, that it's always the good people, that die young? Like the world is a cruel place, and it want to kill of the things that makes it better?

It's just not fair!



We've all heard the expression 'it all depends on the eye of the beholder.', but how often do one actually think of it? A couple of friends had the same experience, and I talked to them both about it, and it was really wierd just how different they had percieved the situation. They agreed on some fundamental things, but the details were very different. That scared me a bit. Reading a lot of detective-novels as a child, I ofcourse knew, that in policework it's often difficult to know what witnesses see or hear, because they percieve it differently, but there's a big difference between reading about it, and experiencing it. It was wierd. Very wierd.

And also, on a note to the many rpg-players out there: We all know it pepends on the eye of the Beholder, but which eye is that? :D


Lack of sleep

So I didn't get more than a couple of hours of sleep last night. That might be ok for some, but for me it definitely isn't. My body experiences some very specific changes, that I'd rather be without. For instance my stomach is completely broken down, and my head is spinning. My eyes are hurting and my lips are dry. Not to mention all the things that probably is there, but I just don't notice. Like memory-blocks, speaking disorder and the likes.

I suffered from insomnia once, but if you've never tried it, you would never understand it, in a very fundamental way. It's not just a couple of days, in which you might be a bit tired. It's everyday, and the world seems to be the worse place to live. I think this might have something to do with the fact, that our mind work through the day's experiences, and sort them out, while we sleep. So after a couple of days, you're pretty messed up in you head. After a couple of more days, you need mental rest so badly, that you would do almost anything to get it. After a week more, you're going mental. And the worse thing is, that most people start being insomnic after a traumatic experience, and that's when you need your mental rest most. After a week or so, I eventually started to hallucinate. Looking back on it today it seems almost silly, but I can assure you it wasn't. It was very unpleasant.


Random thoughts

A friend told me, that my boyfriend is not at all the type, I usually date. That was compared to my ex. Well, I think he's wrong. I think it's the other way around. That my ex is not the type I usually date. It's difficult, because I was with him for so very long, that I almost forgot what my type is. What is a type? I think my type is humans. To be more specific than that, would be to exclude to many, and I don't want to be that narrowminded.

Also, I just found out that things I said years ago had hurt another. I am sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone. I would rather suffer myself, than have others suffer because of me, or things I can change.


So, being a roleplayer, much of what I say in everyday-conversations makes no sense to outsiders. Example: I can trip over a box, and my thoughts would be: 'Wow, I completely botched my spot-check'. My parents are really frustrated about this, and they still think rpg's are the worse that could have ever happened to me. I don't care. I think rpg's are expanding my world, not limiting it.

Also. Why is it, that most people I like, have a tendency to say the things I want to hear, not the truth? I know it's water under the bridge by now, but I just found out another one wasn't honest about his feelings towards me. Is it a wonder that I have difficulty trusting people, when they tell me about their feelings? I try to be honest. We should all be honest towards each other, otherwise we, as a race, will never truly evolve, and transcend to the next era.

Problem is, I have a lousy memory. I seem to be lying to myself to stop me from remembering the stupid self I once was. But if I don't remember, how can I ever change? I had a good, but not long enough talk with a friend, whom reminded me, that I was a bastard to him. How could I forget the things I said and did? Perhaps it's selfpreservation? We don't want to know that we're bastards, because that would make us less the people we want to be? And if we truly believe we are not the people we want to be, than what are we?


Old news - Depressing news

So I started thinking about the state of the world yesterday. (Stupid! - I know!) It always depresses me, that so many people suffer. And I can't do anything about it. I am just a small individual in a big and cruel world, and most of my generation are to busy drinking and reading fashionmagazines to care. The most depressing thing. I mean, what am I supposed to do? I want to make a difference, but somehow the small things I do, doesn't quell my conscience, and I can't stop thinking about all the people that my way of life suppress. BUT WHAT THE F*** AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? It's really frustrating too. (Oh you could tell? Really??) I try to be positive about it, but eventhough my conscience should be cleaner than most's, it's not. Because, I KNOW! I know, that I could make a difference, if only I knew how. But I don't know how. Divine inspiration, where are you?


What's in an age?

A friend told me that my feelings were buzzing. I like that expression. Words are nice, and I like to play with them. My feelings ARE buzzing these days. I have been a busy little bee, and collected a Honey.

So, here's the bad stuff: He is younger than I. I know it shouldn't matter, but I can't help thinking, that I am in another place at my life right now. He is still in High School, for Pete's sake! But I can't help it, I have fallen completely for him. And I have to try. I will not deny my love. That's just stupid! So what's in an age? Nothing!

Also I am moving the rest of my stuff today. Maybe I can actually create a life now. I would like that. My old life has been shattered, and in stead of trying to rebuild it from the old pieces, I have discarded the wrong ones, and will only save the good parts. To rebuild something on wrong pieces, will just destroy the fundament, and sooner or later it will collapse again.


New times

I just got home from the midsummerfestival. It was some of the best days in my life. I met a lot of wonderful people, and spend my days having interesting talks. I did a lot of interesting things and met a lot of interesting people, especially two has gotten my attention. One for his perspective on life, and his entusiasm and energy. The other other for being the perhaps nicest person I've ever met, and I have some very nice people as friends. He is so sweet and considerate, an all-good guy. I think he makes the world a little less evil, just by existing, and I admire him for that. For a few days his light shone on me, and it was really painful to say goodbye. I wanted to bathe in his tenderness a little longer, but I had to let him go. I have kept a little of his light in my heart, and will go to bed, hopefully dreaming sweet dreams.

I had a great couple of days. Thank you guys!