Journeys and fairytales

Talked on the phone with someone I haven't heard from in a long time. Going to see someone else I haven't seen in a long time. Emotions rising and dwindling. Good feasty flesh for my writing demon. Going away, be back in about 5 days. Here's a poem to enjoy till next time.

Tears

I save my tears for bedtime
shred them on fairytales
rather than wet your shoulder
over all the ways hearts can fail.
In dreams of vivid collection
all of my sorrows can vent
and alone I may be forever
but the time with you was well spent.

I am the Materia-girl ^^

I've been thinking about materialism. Mainly because, as those who know me will have noticed, my prioritizing isn't quite of the spiritual kind. I suppose I can stand for that I may say "I can't afford coming to this or that party" and the next moment buy a new game or parts for my computer - or just a silly amount of candy. (Sorry if any of you have taken offense sometime.) In my next breath I brag about how much money I save by not buying alcohol at the drop of a hat.

I guess everyone has their thing, y'know? The money one spends on one thing, someone else spends on something else, but we all spend it, right? (Okay, so the saints may give it away, but they darn well don't just pile it either.) Should the economic market steer everything? I can't say I agree, because that would mean the global, powerful companies would run everything, as they're already well on their way doing. And power corrupts, as we all know. But should materialism be clanked on? Well, if someone is going to do that they should be careful to clean out their own closet first.

Happiness *can* be bought, just don't forget that the prizes aren't always set in money.

Having The Biggest Gun

My brother is buying a new video card, (ATI Radeon 2600 Pro 512Mb HIS for those who care), and I am sorely jealous. (Jealous is a pretty ugly word in English, btw, in its written form, even if it's beautiful in speech. Kind of like the Swedish spelling of juice, jos. Sooo ugly.) Now my wondering is, how big difference does those 512Mb compared to 256Mb, aside from 400 crowns? That's my Question Of The Year.

And, more importantly, which one is more important? Graphix card or Magna Carta and Dark Chronicle for PS2? Spelbutiken.se's sale is going to be the death of me. There are dozens of games I've been wanting to play for the last three-four years. MC and Dark Chronicle are just the top of an iceberg. I mean, Devil May Cry 3: Special Edition? God of War 2? And those of you who haven't played Dreamfall yet, go get the Limited Edition for 150 crowns. As for other computer games there are at least better possibilities to try them before buying them, so I can make a more clean list.

Just to complete the geekness I have to tell I've spent Christmas break completing FF7:Dirge of Cereberus with all files and getting the Ultimate Weapon. Now I just have to finish it on Extra Hard Mode, some Extra Missions, and then finish God of War on highest difficulty. Then I will have the confidence that I suppose corresponds to what men refer to as having the biggest gun.
Ta ta, darlings!

Creative breakdown

Hehe, first I pick on you guys for not blogging, then I sigh because I suddenly have to read lotz.

My writing is behaving strangely. (In case anyone wondered what happened to Kirya.) For one, I am nullifying the latest Chapter, The Way Through Heaven, because... well, I had plans, and I have new plans, and all in all no plans I ever make add up correctly, and I just think half of the chapter is the victim of inconsequential and very bad writing, especially the ending.

The better, more professional form my writing gets, the more crap I write. Or rather; the better I know I can do, the harder I judge what I do until the smallest story turn into a novel project on life and death. And Kirya has hit a wall because Shemhazai is important, and I have to make him important without fucking up Kirya's importance, and I seem to have lost all contact with Obon's personality, and I'm just too fucking hard on myself.

And I'm writing this because I just copied the Kirya-file from my hard-drive to my memorystick and forgot that it was the file on the stick that was the latest version so I have just lost the remake of the latest chapter as well as two pages of the next. Shoot me. No seriously. Either shoot me or get me a boyfriend (perferrably doubling as muse), because anything in-between and I'll go raving mad.

It will take me days to recover from this (I know this from experience with lost texts). And I don't have days. Christmas break is soon over! Dammit.

The Thoughts Of Those Left Behind

My recently started "list of things so difficult to decide about that I'd rather blow my head up" has gotten another post. The previous entries included items such as abortion, religious freedom, freedom of speech and capital punishment. The new item reads: euthanasia.

This isn't a woe-me post and I want no comments of the sort. Instead, it's a post about the enormous difficulties with euthanasia, from a strictly non-political, emotional standing.

Gramps and grandmother came to our place for Christmas dinner. Sometimes she's like a little kid, you can say; "Wouldn't you like more food?" and she'll agree, but if you'd said "You don't want more food, do you?" she'd agree with that too, and she's the kind of person who could do that on purpose, but you can't be sure that she's aware of doing it. The one thing she says that I really think comes from her heart, is that she's tired. She's tired of being a liability to others and herself, she's tired of not being able to think. Father spent most of Christmas helping her getting dressed, eating, walking from one chair to the other, talking to her, holding her hand. That's all you can do, and it's not enough, because whether she'll remember it tomorrow or not, she finds no real happiness in it anymore. And being so utterly powerless... It breaks my heart, but then what does it do to my father? It's his mother. I don't want to go all to personal, because I'm starting to scratch on other people's privacy here, but summing it up my father is the most loving person I ever met, but perhaps also the one it shows least on until you get to know him. He's seen things most people refrain from even trying to imagine, and it hardens him, but it also makes him more fragile, I think. Like hardened steel, y'know?

What would it do to my father if the option to end her suffering was in his head too?

And that, simply, is why I cannot, ever, wholeheartedly speak for euthanasia, even as my logical self believes in that it should be every man's right.

Big Mysterious Mafia Event: BMME

It's only days until this big, mysterious, exotic event now that everyone is talking about, I think they called it krismas or maybe it was christnus. All internet-bought presents have arrived, the lines of cars in the city is dumbfoundingly slow, and the sky absolutely shines of absolute gray unshinyness. The secretive nature of my existance forbids that my by name related family would suspect any form of wishes for this event, thus I can hope no more for fun presents in the direction indicated by green, pointy arrow. The red pointy arrow seems to be working well, though, to my apparant relief and satisfaction.

Do you know a "party"game called Mafia? It absolutely rul-ez. Play it with all your friendly neighborhood manipulative bastards, excentric old men and psychopathic dictators. It's not only a perfect game to spend time, witch-hunt your friends, test your subterfuge-skills and murder the innocent, but also a great way to get to know people (as long as they dare to play with you). The rules are to find on Wikipedia, though they appear slightly more complicated than they are in practice, thus allowing you to practice your tactical skills before even knowing the game. Go ahead. Kill someone. Or even better: fool someone else to kill someone innocent.

Bachsalen

It appears that, except for a very regularly updated though not very regular christmas calendar, my friends blogging has ceased in the face of Santa, but I will hang on 'til the bitter end. We had christmas dinner today at school. I hate parties, if I don't know more than three quarters personally and the total sum rests safely below twenty. I made happy face, dressed up reasonably and went anyway, for the sake of social common sense.

On to the more important issue, as have become a habit these latest posts.

Tomorrow at 0700 there's an assembly in the "religious hall" of this school. Remember, there are courses for priest-persons and playing-piano-in-church-persons here, so they have meeting (mass? what's it called?) at 1800 sometimes (maybe it's only sundays? I keep no check on such) and that's what they do in that hall. It's when people are supposed to say goodbye before christmas break. Now, people will believe I don't go because I'm a lazy bastard and it's too early in the morning, but the truth is I feel like I'm disrespecting christianity by going. And screw you (christian or not) who say oh, but church is for anyone, and it's just a tradition anyway and whatever else. Who gives a shit what you think? What I'm talking about is religion, and my religion states that it makes me uncomfortable to hang around places that belong to other people's religion when they're doing religious stuff and I have nothing to do there. I'm talking about that it makes me feel like I'm bothering your God, and screw you really hard if you think you know that better than I do. I can go to a church, look at it like a tourist, watch a wedding or just sit and think, that's one thing. But listening to religious songs and hallelujas, fine, you may think it means nothing, but to me it means that I'm not standing for the belief that I have. It's like talking shit about someone and then when they ask, deny it. Stand for your shit. That's what I'm doing. If God exists and is pissed at me for not being christian, then I'll take my punishment for that. Not running around church being in the way for people who really do believe.

There are so many reasons people totally run me over with a six ton truck when I say stuff like that (remember dogs are stupid, anyone?) but whatever. It's what I believe, thus it's my truth.
So put your christmas meeting somewhere else and I'll be there at 0500 in the morning if you want, but over there, no.

Secret Conviction

I was going to write about leaving for christmas, but then I had the strongest Déjà Vu and will take that as a hint to not. Instead I will write about things people don't tell just anyone and why that may be important.

As may be seen from this blog, I have always been one to openly discuss anything, embarrassing or not. But since I came to this school, i have begun to wonder wheather that is the right thing. Maybe some things are to be kept, only told to the ones you trust. But this is a double edged sword. As follows:

It seemed Jonas (my teacher) liked my christmas compendium, since I was asked to read aloud from it several pieces. In my greedy, selfish folly, though, I was still disappointed with that no one seemed to pay Trosbekännelsen any attention at all, while at the same time I would not be able to explain it if anyone did.

In a similar fashion I disappointed myself in our religion-class. We were supposed to bring something that symbolized "the religion of ourselves", something that meant much to us and stood for our lives in some way. I thought I'd show them my Iceye-symbol (seen as the signature on my banner). But while listening to the others I realized I was doing crime against my own conviction: the most important symbol of my life would easily be Cloud. More than anything else, to me. But this would be close to inexplicable to anyone else unless I write an essay (as proven here, and that only covered the actual facts, not the spiritual, emotional and psychological stuff and what practice it means in real life). Also, I worried that as people don't understand, they condemn, and the picture of me would change in their heads in a direction that would be directly faulty. Thus I proceeded with my Iceye-symbol, while I felt like , I suppose, a Catholic would feel denying God. I know it's silly, it was such a small thing, and I was talking to people I might never see again after next term, and what would it matter what they think of me or what they know? But some things are that way. So important to yourself that the actual, practical effects are meaningless; it is the principle, the gut feeling.

We have secrets that are kept more for our own sake than the effects on the surroundings, and when we one day tell someone special, the secrets will be the measuring stick after which to judge them: how do they treat our most special things, how do they handle that our biggest secret is small and meaningless, how do they carry the trust we put in them? And that is why I have concluded that some things are to kept secret and private, where I previously thought it was pointless.

Heart of Darkness

I finished Heart of Darkness today. It was a good book, quite a bit of work, more than just a story, a novel. It felt like an attempt to make a book without words, on some level. I'm going to write about it a little now, it's a highly uneducated and personal analysis, but I'll try to keep it short and objective.

The first thing I'm hit by is the way the story begins with the people who tell the story. What do we know about them, why are they here, what function has the "I" in that perspective? Why did the author not choose to have Marlow speak directly to the reader, instead of giving us a person to stand in for us, one we hardly know anything about? It could be the signal, right there in the beginning of the book, to read this not as ourselves but as the person there with Marlow, to look beyond our immediate surroundings and lives, even ourselves.

The story is then told that way, like a story around a forest campfire, all in one bout, never once slipping from this clear personal perspective. We're not given a grand amount of pure fact, despite the enormous flow of words; we're given sights, thoughts, emotions. What has Mr.Kurtz really done? We understand what, though most of it is never fully stated. And that is what the book heavily relies on, that we understand though we're not always led like the blind; we must use our own eyes and ears and that is why we need the guidance of looking away from ourselves in the beginning or we might interpret things from the wrong perspective.

So what is it that he wants us to interpret, to see in this darkness? The Heart of Darkness deals very little in good and evil, right and wrong, it states its story proudly and attempts something much more respectable: to dive in behind such concepts into mind and soul, but from a grounded starting point, not soaring up into academy philosophy or righteous religion, creeping at its target looking from below, from outside. It is an exploration of a broken mind without intention of mending or understanding, but also of how the breaking itself may affect everything around the person, even more than the person himself.

And of all this, I understand only a little. I would need to read the book at least twice again, improve my vocabulary of the old form of English, and then write a full essay to gather my thoughts to catch the full vision. Especially the ending seems odd and as if carrying a great weight I cannot track. I did like the book, not with grim happiness as in The Perfume, painful satisfaction as in Of Mice and Men or mind-numbing love like The Tollbridge, but with calm amazement, somehow like I imagine Marlow himself feeling, watching this event unfold before ones eyes, knowing you understand only little, but your soul understand so much more.

Well, that's what I had to say. It's said that some books you cannot understand unless you have read other books before, just like you learn about life as you live it. Someday, I imagine, I will read it again, and maybe then I will have read the right books and lived the right life and understand more.

Fool each other, it's Christmas!

Never really understood Christmas. Sure, back in the day I bet it was nice, getting gifts like that. But in this modern day when your parents can't even read the words on your wishing list and your grandparents can only dream about understanding your plzkthxbye language, and god forbid that either of them have any idea of how to get hold of it, and if they find it they pay thrice the value because they don't know what they're doing, it's hardly the same anymore. I can't exactly write "new graphics card" on my wishlist, they would have no idea what to do with that. And what else do I wish for? Well, I don't need clothes, furniture, movies, music or tickets to wherever. I'd love to have a cat, but I'm not allowed here, I'd want a teleporter, but they don't exist, I'd like to know what path to take next year, but it's hard to wrap the future in gift wrappings and little stickers.

That said, after having the gifts ready and christmas calendar faily worked out, when to meet who, what to eat where, I'm looking forward to it. Because I'm so conditioned for it, with all memories of the shiny new toys of my childhood? I'm also afraid like hell that dad won't like my gift, that people will start nagging each other, that I won't have anything to say, that grandma will start crying about how she wants to die, that brother will show the same heartbreakingly disinterest in any of the old folks like always, and I know most of this will happen.

Is that christmas? Decorating, baking, planning, buying gifts, talking about fun parties here and there, wishing people merry christmas, when we all know we're going home to the same dark winter mess as every other day? Is Christmas just an excuse to pretend in front of each other that we're not, so that when everybody pretends, we can all fool each other to be happy? And then to crash when reality hits us?

Maybe it's time to make new traditions, especially for the ones of us who don't believe in God. Like how I'm going to spend New Year's with friends; no strings attached, just a bunch of people who really like each other. That makes me happy.

231, 1600, 4600

I have the entire amount of 231 bucks (swedish kronor that is) to my name until the last of December (aside from getting money for christmas that will have to be used to pay for the trip to Arvika and to pay back the loan of 1600 bucks (that actually is 4600) I already have) all because I bought christmas presents with my brother and he has no money until christmas either. These 231 bucks will have to be used on going to and from Karlstad on Wednesday to meet my dear friends, and if I spend any more than that... well, I litterally can't spend more than that. BUT on the bright side is, I got the presents for mom and dad that I really wanted to give them.

I'm not exactly whining. Not looking for compassion or gifts. I just wanted to tell someone, for some reason, that the absurd fact is that I spend beyond what I have, and I never done that in my life and never thought I would. (Because not having money puts me in inferior position and I don't remain in inferior positions and sure as hell don't look them up.) What the hell happened to my morals? Next thing you see, I'll spend the christmas money on skin crémes, make-up and fancy shirts instead of rent, books, games and a new graphics card. What the hell is the world coming to?!?

No seriously, I have to stop spending money at all. Those 4600 shall be back in their rightful place come summer or help me god. My makeover will have to wait until I sell books, appear on television and get filthy rich.

Tempest

I was going to write, prepare for a test on friday and stuff. But no. I didn't even continue working on the sixteen thousand projects I already have in the air, I started a new one. Why? Because I sat down to draw Koffein the Hummingbird and got an idea and then stuff trailed off and completely lost it, and I spent the entire day drawing a flash animation for a "movie" from a "book" that I have planned to write after Kirya and two other unfinished books. Right. Well, I love the idea, and I think the animation turned out pretty okay despite the program bugging together just at the end (which is why it doesn't say Iceye Enterprises as many times as I wanted it to, and why I won't color it or improve on anything even if there's a lot to improve).

It's a lot better in original, but Blogger, as usual, doesn't want to cooperate. So it's lagging. But nevermind. If you desperately want it, download it here. I would also love to have a soundtrack, but as I said, the program lagged together, I think I did something wrong since I haven't learned how it works yet. Nevermind. It was just a fun thing anyway.




Tempest (as I'm calling it meanwhile I think of something else; that's how I treat all my titles) is about these twin worlds and Mikaela from one, Jace from the other (also names-in-progress). It works much like a tv-series with independant "episodes" from each or both worlds. Mikaela and Jace for different reasons (I'm not gonna tell you) have to remain on their respective side. Well, that's the gist of it, I'm not saying more in case I someday eventually get to writing it down. It's one of the most entertaining ideas I've ever had, so I really hope so.

"Det svåra är inte att gå vidare,

det svåra är att inte gå tillbaka." - Jenni

Shopping Report

Regarding presents: I think I'm too picky, or maybe my complete inability to make decisions comes off as pickiness. I see lots of things, but they're not *quite* good enough as presents. And I really suck at seeing anything to start with, so four hours in Karlstad ended with me buying one single present. (Though I figured out two others that I'll have to order.) On the other hand I bought two shirts for myself (because I'm way better at picking out things for myself, even if I still wander around the shop for twenty minutes before I can make the decision to actually buy something) and got my hair cut. And, lol, when I came back and put on the new shirt, Alexander went "What the hell are you doing, now I might have to flirt with you!" I was a good girl, refrained from saying "What was wrong with how I looked before?" and just smiled the way Asian girls smile when they're concealing their psycopathic tendencies. So I'm actually trying hard to learn to take compliments and to think I do deserve them. That sounds horrible so I have to add; I was also happy that he said that.

People call me by my name a lot more often here than they do anywhere else. (Well, "people" may be an exageration, it's Alex and Anna who stand for the show, like always.) I think I might actually be starting to get used to hearing it (though I still think it's horribly long, stand-offish and complicated and rather unpretty as written out). The.... *brainfreeze*... coiffeuse thought it was a pretty name, but she misspelled it.

As for how I look in my new hair and clothes, I'll quote another comment heard today (though they talked so much I don't remember who said it): Yay, go for the Asian style! ^^

I also tried to buy foundation. But the shopclerk who was supposed to give me advice looked down her nose at me, gave me some test products and sent me home. Weird that they don't want my money, but okay, I'll test it and come back and buy more later. o_O This was before I got my haircut, though, and I'd run around on town for three hours, so she probably thought I looked too ugly to be allowed to wear her snotty make-up. ;P

Hello. If anyone's wondering why I'm awake at this hour on a tuesday (I'm free on tuesdays) it's because I'm going to Karlstad to buy christmas presents. I hate buying christmas presents. I also had to borrow money to be able to buy them. Christmas is a weird time.

Heart of Darkness was a difficult book to read while half asleep on a bus. I'll make another try today. I also forgot to bring my mp3-player, so I might get pretty bored over there. A good growing ground for creativity.

And why am I here writing this? I need to get ready for the bus!

K, guys, suit yourselves.

Let's tell the story of the Cloud-thing for those who weren't there for the very beginning. (Wait... who *was* there?) It's a (kinda long) story about a little girl who finally got the one thing she wanted most in the whole world: a Playstation. The problem was that she needed something to play on that Playstation too, and since her parents had done their best to keep her away from dangerous electronic stuff she wasn't all too informed in the subject. What she figured was this: the more discs a game has, the longer time you can play it, right? So she found the game with the most discs at the lowest price, and it just happened to be Final Fantasy 7. Logic *and* destiny, I tell you, can it get better than that?

Now she wasn't all that into boys either. A couple of years later, she could sorta' tell that main character dude was pretty pretty, and to add blonde which was an amazing magical thing at that age (my first crush is still, I insist, the blondest guy I've ever seen, and no it wasn't Cloud) and then, yet another few years later, she knew english well enough to actually take the story of FF7 to heart. It was a revelation in the weight class of realizing Squall actually nods to Rinoa to come over at the ball, and dude, did that rock my world! It was one of the first heavy stories that I got to ponder upon as a young girl, before the boredness of being jaded. Cloud became that cool guy that all other guys (my age) failed to be because they were kids.

Yet another few years later, I knew english even better and paid more attention as I played. I (re)discovered the entire part about Cloud being psychotic and weak, and he went from cool guy to pathetic wuss in the whole span of one or two hours. (Sometimes I think all guys have to make that journey in your head before you can really love them, the trick is how they rise again.) And Cloud did rise again. It sounds silly, but it made me ponder upon another heavy thing; can weakness be forgiven, can people be imperfect? It took more than a year to realize, that yes, they can, and they are. And I forgave him.

Over the following years my love grew slowly, like in a marriage where all secrets have been revealed and love can thrive in that calm, secure way. Then came the movie. Those who knew me at the time know I freaked around about the movie for a good six months, bouncing franticly whenever I talked about it. (Sorry!) I swear, I smiled like a fool every time I thought about it: Cloud is going to be in a movie! Perhaps the single time in my life, I put absolute faith in something. I put absolute, heartbreaking faith in that the movie would be good. I never do that, I always keep a back door, I always say *maybe*, *what if*, cuz you can never be sure, y'know. You can't. And it was good, he was beautiful, and I fell in love again, like after living with a husband ten years you suddenly rediscover him.

The latest battle I've had over him is appearances. I've been mad about blonde guys all my life, but to be honest, the last years it's been fading. For a while some part of me said; if you admit you're not as into blondes anymore, you'll come across as loving Cloud less. Then I had to take a new fight about appearaces, and came to the conclusion that no, wow, I don't love him for his looks, like one would think about a game-character. He's become so much more to me than blonde spikes and skinny strength.

Now one can make a hundred psychological conclusions from this, but I refuse to even debate that.

If I ever fall in love, y'know fall in love-fall in love. Then I imagine it would take a somewhat similar course as this relationship. Let me make a list and illustrate, and I think you'll agree:

1. Fate making your roads cross
2. Wow, that guy looks nice
3. He's perfect
4. Realizing he had bad, frustrating, disappointing sides.
5. Accepting he has bad, frustrating, disappointing sides.
6. Realizing you love him anyway.
7. Establishing your relationship and telling it to the world.
8. Falling in love again with the person you know so well.
9. Coming to peace with that you love the person, not the looks (since people grow old)
10. Live happily ever after.

This became a pretty loooooongcat. But now you're all initiated in the "Iceye and Cloud-cult". And if you actually read all this... you guys are idiots. But so very loveable. XD

Wow... it looks even better like this than the structure I had in my head. Makes so much sense.

I cried, but only a little.

I'm row row rowing my boat gently down the stream of impending depression, like every winter the last four years. This time it's arriving a little later than usual, probably because school is merciful on me, but I can feel its hand hovering in the air as it hesitates before knocking on my counsciousness. I wonder if life will be such a battle for survival every January for the rest of my life?

I always feel like I'm contageous. Like I can show that I'm down, but I have to keep at least a reasonable sanity, because you can't help me, and we all know that, and letting that show with it's full sadness will only make it worse. Compassion and mercy and pity and hugs and smiles and cheerings, it just makes me more and more and more angry until I just want to scream, but I can't: I've forgotten how to do it. So calm, I'm blind to my own ripples on the surface. I can't be angry because I don't know how to anymore. I can't be angry because what if I tear something apart that I can't fix later? I couldn't survive knowing I did that. So I scream inside my head instead, and wish someone could shut me up. Whine whine whine. Whatever I do, it's boring, it's old, words and actions said and done a hundred times that doesn't give me anything and God, can't you give me something new? Something mine?

Be strong. Cheer up. Pretend you're happy because that will make you happy. Do something even if it kills you, because it won't. Smile. Play. Hide.

Can't someone just knock me unconscious so I don't have to be aware?

You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know. Because I would never say this face to face. And I think maybe, being who you are, meaning what you do to me, you should to know. Thay always say in interviews after someone kills themselves; "We should have known." But that's idiotic. No one can know another human for sure. Not in real life. But that scene in FF8 where they think Seifer is dead and they all start to talk well about him and Squall freaks out because he doesn't want anyone to talk about him that way when he's dead... it hit me. So hard it hurt. And this is like that. I want at least someone to know who I was when I'm gone. I don't want people standing around saying shit just because they miss me, because death scares them. I want truth. And truth is dark. But so releasingly uncomplicated. I'm the only one who knows who I am, and I'm the only one who knows the people you are inside my head. All this will be gone without me. And that's why I don't want to die. Because I'm a squirrel; and you're my nuts.

Is there nothing original left in the world? Is there nothing that can touch me at my very core?

And guys, don't think I don't know you're sucking up. 5 votes on We want more Cloud? You're all idiots. But I love you.

Cell Block Tango

There's a Musictheatre class here at school and they're doing four shows this and next week. The previous one they did, short theatre forms of Allrakäraste syster, Barnen från Frostmofjället and Skinn Skärping, were wonderful (Skinn Skärping var jätteläskig!), this show is about war and isn't quite that good but still okay. The best part is where six of the girls perform a Swedish version of the Cell Block Tango (from the movie Chicago) and if you don't know what that is, click the link and enjoy ^^ I got absolutely charmed by it. (With a special wink to Kristin, maybe? ^_~)

On a side note, I was madly in love with Allrakärastesyster when I was a kid, the words, the pictures, I still feel happy just thinking about them. But I've lost the book T_T

Christmas Compendium

Christmas compendium finished! ^^ It's got front, back, poems, illustrations, index, page numbers and copyright symbols. *proud like a mother* Some of the poems I think you've seen, but most of them you should not have, and all illustrations are brand new like the crack of opening a can of cola. So go ahead, see the first real work from Iceye Enterprises Publications. (It looks better in actual paperform, but I can't send y'all those, so it'll have to do.) It goes on print on Thursday. (Sounds a lot more serious than it is: the work is done by a monster of a copying machine.)

"(Good day, Bad day) En Diktsamling Bra och Dåliga Dagar."

Also watched Resident Evil Extinction today. I think Apocalypse was better.

See Me

I do want to be seen. Of course I do. I blog because I want to keep contact with my friends, because I want a diary I keep somewhat true to, but also - to exist. I am on the internet, therefore I am. I don't like making noise when it's silent around me, so I only talk on the phone because there's no other good option. I can't handle compliments. I only look people in the eye when I decide I have to to come across as natural and confident. Thus this, writing, words, pictures, the distance between me and my work is crucial.

There is a difference between self-confidence and self-worth. I am fairly confident in that I draw okay, and I write well. I can go do embarrassing errands here and there, I can speak my opinion, I can play the game. But I don't ever expect anyone to have any interest in me, as such, only my work, my thoughts. I am the factory, my work is the product, and consumers are only interested in products, see?

But, is this something I have to change? I'm not sure. I was browsing through DeviantArt and Tomgeeks.com, and I was thinking, I should make a comic. Why? Because poems and pictures are nice, but novels and comics last in peoples' minds. That's why novels are my main aim; because you get to infect people for a longer time, feed off their interest and capture their hearts for hours and days rather than minutes and seconds. You get longer time to affect them, thus better chance to affect them more. But there is no way I have time to go to school, read, do homework, write, draw, do comics, hang out with friends, keep contact with old friends, play videogames, play computer games, stay updated on everything, keep my family happy, visist my grandparents, shop, eat and sleep. I would need three separate lifetimes for that to happen. So I have to make choices. I have to decide the course of my life. And I've been pushing it forward for weeks and months and years, because it's probably the most important choice of my life.

I refuse to be the geek girl in a corner reading and adoring other people's work, gossiping about the last X-Men movie. I want to be in that shit, I want to be a part of the process, I want to change the world. But to do that, I have to lose half of myself first. Which half?

Service for Friends

So, I was actually on MSN today *gasp* and Eva talked to me *gaspgasp* (why? more pics of Cloud-lookalike <3) and she showed me Jeff Thomas, and mentioned something that she said would do well as a comic, and when I did it as a comic as a present for her she made me put it up here because she didn't want to make her christmas calendar look unpretty, so darn it, she made me. Here it is. Happy together-day, Anton and Madde.

(This is, like, copyright breaking or something... =P)

Bad sense of time =P

Soooo, I said like four, five days ago that I would post the portrait of the person on my communist banner, but... uh... I have very bad sense of time. So. Here she is, anyway. Her name is, currently, as I said, Leah, but I am open to suggestions, because I'm not certain that it's the best, and I seem to suck at female names, I have noticed. I need equal practice with that as with drawing females, but where one is progressing, one is not. Guess which.

Since I have nothing more to say today after my lashing out yesterday, I will post a poem I just made. (Since blogger refuses my idea with two separate texts next to each other, I've made it into a picture -_-)



*munches Toblerone* Thanks Kristin! And for Pan's Labyrinth and everything too! *hugs*

Why I Don't Like Journalists (sry you serious ones, all five)

I helped my brother with his history homework yesterday (it's actually fun because I get to renew my own knowledge) and he said something kinda striking concerning Hitler and his paranoia: Han ä ingen som får nô bäst vänner iallafall. Hehe ^^

Jag läser den andra boken i Millenium-serien, "Flickan som Lekte med Elden", den är SÅ bra! Den första är bra, men man måste inte läsa den, den här... den är... samhällskritik at it's very very sharpest best, förklädd till fiktion som också är bra i sig själv. Jag tänker ge ett exempel för att övertyga, men om nån tänker läsa den ändå, sluta läsa här.

Den första meningen i boken är: Hon låg fastspänd med läderremmar på en smal brits med en ram av härdat stål. [...]En del av hennes medvetna lyssnade efter ljudet av fotsteg som innebar att han skulle komma. [...] Det var hennes fyrtiotredje dag i fångenskap. Okay. Vad tänker du? Den sista meningen av prologen säger: Det var natten hon fyllde 13 år. Vad tänker du nu? Sedan börjar boken, och fortsätter egentligen där den förra slutade, helt vid sidan av prologen. Den handlar om trafficking, och man gör sina associationer. Så på sidan 398, trehundranittioåtta!, inser man att prologen inte hade någonting med trafficking att göra; att det är beskrivningen av en flicka på "psykiatrisk behandling", och det här, damer och herrar, är bara en liten liten pettitess av alla de små och stora pikar som spretar åt alla håll och vrider om i magtrakten när man tänker på hur så många småsaker faktiskt underminerar all mänsklighet. Inte minst är kritiken mot media och sensationsjournalistik intressant, med tanke på att författaren själv var journalist (en seriös sådan). Jag har alltid haft samma åsiker själv, exemplen på tidningsrubriker är t.ex. en ren orgie i anledningar att hata pressfrihet, och exemplen på den usla psykologi som den flesta människor använder är också rent infuriating.

Den enda anledningen till att den här boken inte bara får mig att grabba min fars tjänstevapen och gå bärsärk är just att kritiken den framställer inte stannar vid mig; den går vidare med varje person som läser den. Jag hoppas bara att den generella intelligensen är ett litet snäpp högre än vad personerna i boken stoltserar med (bortsett från Lisbeth Salander) så att folk ser och förstår.

Men jag hoppas nog in vain.

The Little Red

Here's another scanner-sweep contribution... I have one in yellow too but this was more dramatic even if it looks like a communist banner. =P I love silhouettes!!!

I'll post the portarait of the person in question tomorrow.

Now I have to draw a front page for the christmas compendium, write a page about hydrogen gas fuel, and run around sneaking photos of everyone here with my cellphone-cam so you can see how they look. See you guys tomorrow.

Sleep-less consequences

I think my craziness yesterday and today was the result of too little sleep for two weeks, because I just crashed. This evening we had a lecture about health care, some old guy talking. The moment my ass hit the chair it was like someone had poured dough into my brain and mixed it with a handmixer. The guy didn't even have the chance to start talking. I spent an hour desperately keeping myself awake to keep some sort of self pride and respect towards him, but I think it showed a lot, i was basically reeling around in my chair. -_- My head was spinning most of the time and when I moved my hands and feet it was really hard to keep a sense of where they were. As for now, I've escaped to my room. My lamp just died, but whatever. I'm thinking I should do something to kick my brain back into action and then go to bed early. (And why I'm blogging instead of doing that, I do not know.)

Apparantly I get cute and frantic when I'm about to die. Good to know that's a sign, but unfortunately I'm probably too cute and frantic to do something about it if it ever happens again.

Boys

(I just thought it fun to inform you about the picture of Shemhazai: inspiration for necklaces and general pose fetched from official popstar JC Chasez, hair from our own unofficial rockstar Rikard Molander, dress is only to blame on general angel-badtaste, and boots so that I don't have to worry about whether angels have bodyhair.)

Here's the next pic from my scanning-sequence; Akibeel in his workout clothes. I tried coloring it, but gave up. Who wants colors anyways! Black and white says it all.

I just realized this blog has a sadly small amout of boy-talk, disregarding a couple of fictious characters and an angel in disguise, is it really that mr. Jacob is the first boy mentioned? (mr. Jacob being the prettiest codename I've thought up since SunnyDay) Well, he is hard-earned eyecandy. Most people here are either too trashy (longhaired rockers), too fancy (metrosexual) or just not handsome enough for my usual tastes (yes, I'm horribly shallow). Not that the girls hold much better quality, but that I can live with, since it lessens competition, and I'd never dare to make a move on a girl anyway (okay, so I don't dare boys either -_-). Well, there, that's enough boy-talk for the coming six months. Glad to have that done and over with.

Now, if you want to talk Akibeel's workout habits, or Shemhazai's true personality, or Kirya's further development, or Leon's scratchy manly voice, or the fact that Lance Bass from NSYNC does the voiceover for Sephiroth in KH, or Riff's motives in Godchild (omigodomigodomigod), or maybe rummage forth some more pictures of Cloud, or, when I think about it, the fact that Ezequiel is the Master of Clouds so I had to make him cool and handsome, then I've got all the time in the world.

I feel a straaaeeengee mooood comin' a-over me!

I'm in a strange mood today. Maybe because I was praised by a teacher. Maybe because mom woke me up at 8 this morning when I have no lessons and I was up until 3 last night. Maybe because I got my 1gb ram. Maybe because I discovered I can play God of War on "hard". Maybe because I got to watch the handsome mr. Jacob eat today (he makes eating estethically beautiful... O_O I know!) and he is so single again now. Maybe because I found the great hall empty and dark and could dance around and pretend mr. Jacob would come in and talk to me. Maybe because I won chocolate. Maybe, simply, because I am a cat and cats sometimes go crazy. To better illustrate the essence of my state of mind, I have made a comic:

Nuff said.

Reward

Since you've been nice and helped me with judging the poem just below here (do continue elaborating upon it), I'll give you another picture. Heh, some people have seen most of these drawings, but this will give you the chance to critisize them outside of the reach of my kittyclaws. Anyway, this one no one have seen. It's my first sketch of Shemhazai, really quickly made, but I like the feeling, and the necklaces. Some will notice his name is missing a "h", and I'm still not sure if I want to have it there. Semhazai/Shemhazai... it's a big difference, but I don't know which one's better.

BTW, what are the other animals in the Lynx-family except the lynx itself? Cuz other cats are called feli-something, right?

Hänsyn för de dummas skull

Jag behöver mina vänners goda judgement i en lite tricky question. Jag har skrivit en dikt, och nu undrar jag helt enkelt om det passar sig att använda den i mitt lilla häfte jag ska knåpa ihop (as I have whined about earlier) eller om den är för... jag vet inte, du vet...

Säg mig det jag redan vet
Analysera vädret
Skopa full enfaldighet
Förringa aktivt värdet
Av denna syn och klarsynthet
Som alltinget har givit
Min egen sinnesverksamhet
Den styggelse den blivit
För din ögon, blinda två
Som inte jag fördömer
Dömer du allt jag förstå
Och samtalet uttömmer
Hänsyn för de dummas skull
Är straffet du utmätt
Förståndets outtalta tull
Skuld som ett koppel, fjäderlätt

Lite aggressiv, kanske? Jag vill höra hur den låter i andras öron. Och säg som det är nu! Verkligen! För jag vill inte stoppa in den i ett häfte alla andra ska läsa om den liksom motarbetar syftet som jag skrev den för.

We want more drawings! ... okay ^^

K, Kristin encouraged me to finally pick myself up and do the scanning I've been meaning to do for several days. This leads to the consequence of having several drawings to show you at the same time, which is not optimal. Thus I will post only two here today, and do the rest later.

To the right is Keloria, though I cheated with the hair, because I was exhausted after doing the dress. In reality she has a form of headdress draped in cloth too. It was hard as hell to ink it, so it actually looks better like this, smaller, since the tiny mistakes with the thinner pen doesn't show so much. ^^ To the left is a random Lunar female, as an example of how they usually look, to compare with the males' more barbaric style (Falorn and Felahr).

I wish we had useable words in Swedish too like female and male. But most of all I wish any language I know had a gender neutral word that doesn't reduce people to objects, like "it".

And yes, Lunar females are very flat-chested. This really isn't a problem either seeing as the men are so beefy, so gender is completely obvious anyway.

Um... *waves* I'm still alive despite the daring piece of photography in the comments to the Weekend post... just wanted to let everyone know... and... I want to add that... um... if anyone else has anything of the sort... ... *blinks*

I'm a one-tracked mined in a one-tracked world... (To the tunes of Emilia's Big big girl)

I haven't been online (at all) since two days ago (!!!) and this is because of the reasons stated in the previous post. ^^ Me and Alexander have played RE4 like rabid dogs, and Isabell, Therese and Anna have been watching biting their nails in fear. Playing gets a lot more scary when three girls sit behind you and stare at every shot you fire like it would be your last, and one of them screams every time another enemy enters the screen (I have to say that would be Anna, to preserve Therese's honor). To that we have added a light touch of Guitar Hero and Singstar, and a few minutes of FEAR and Jak II. This night Nick (den glade skåningen) and his PS3 had a fight-night so me and Alex headed over there playing boxing, hong-kong action, manga fighting, and olymic sports. To sum it up: I haven't missed internet. Unbelievable, I know.

Wanna know something cool? Nick's PS3 was crowded with about five, six guys (including Alex), and me. And it really felt like no one cared that I was a girl. They cracked a few female-unfriendly jokes without giving it a second's hesitation. As if that didn't boost my confidence and well-being enough, I played that manga fighting game for the first time and beat Axel two times (it's a cool name and he's a cool guy) and almost Alex (who's played it a hundred million times). It was the PS2 one with Sol Badguy (that's actually his last name!!! ^^) and Ky and stuff... I've seen pictures from it all around the net, but never seen the actual game. It was good.

I feel invigorated, empowered, boosted and alive.

Hey, did you notice that if you swap the letters of "game" you get "mage"? So cool. Then, to be really cheesy, you can make "mager" out of "gamer", and a "mager" would obviously be the logical word for the "overmage", the one who makes other mages. So... damn, everyone else blogs about God and parental law and, um, communist pigs, I feel so Jack Sparrow. I'm gonna go write some really deep poetry.

This weekend will be spent:

Eating microwave pizza
Watching Alexander play Resident Evil 4
Picking on Therese until she plays Resident Evil 4
Panic-freezing trying to write for the Christmas compendium
Sleeping through the short, useless hours of daylight
Reading Godchild, basking in blood and death and gore
Basking in blood and death and gore in Resident Evil 4
Repeatedly dying in Resident Evil 4
Eating more microwave pizza

And depending on whether my 1Gb RAM arrives:

Playing F.E.A.R.
Playing Vampire
Playing Sims2
Playing Quake 4
(or maybe just one of them)

And it will be the best weekend ever. ^^

Patience

I'm so embarrassed about my last post that I don't know what to say. No more "just a little post before going to bed"-posts! Just disregard that rambling (except possibly the first three rows, despite that I just now censored it, because I can't just remove the entire thing even if it sucks, that would be cheating) and read the nice poem The Chair another time instead, because it derserves the attention, right?

Fourteen days until the writing project has to be finished. I need inspiration, I need poems, possibly sensible, good-looking ramblings, but essentially in Swedish. I think I need more interaction with people, but phones don't work in this context. Hmmm.

Therese spent two hours playing Tetris on our tv-box since we can't get it to do anything else (like showing regular tv-channels). The silly thing was how the rest of the house gathered around her, chatting, writing, cooking and eating, everyone watching her playing Tetris at snail-speed. I'm in awe at her patience. And how little colored cubes can bring people together.

the Reason Why I am Obsessed with Poking

Subtlety is the grandeaur of life. The ability to understand someone from just one look. The feeling of knowing someone without a spoken word. It rules our lives, the little things that we never really think about, or that some of us spend their lives thinking about.

What I'm really talking about here are manipulation skills, that I will spend a lifetime refining, no matter how unsociable I am. I watched that episode of Bones (S1 Ep4 or 5 or something) when Angela drops her purse next to Booth's girlfriend and starts a conversation to get to know the woman and poke deeper into their relationship (the nosy little dudette, I can so imagine doing that myself if I ever got the chance) and I thought: I want to be able to do that. But the hardest opponent for me is female, beautiful, drinks alcohol, about thirty, loves children and majors in women's rights. Picking those parts apart, one would find that my perfect victim is male, my age, average in appearance and physique, teetotaller, haven't given children much thought and majors in some kind of technical subject like science or computers. Huh.

But everyone has manipulation skills, more or less. People use them in different ways and to different ends, but we all do everything we can to change our surroundings to the most profitable possible. I am a perfectionist, especially in the matters I learn only by myself (not from school or other people) and so I want to know what people do to me, how, why, what I do to them and how to do or not do that. A million lines of tripwire rigged around my whole beeing, mixed with tripwire illusions, tingling, tangling and tickling people where I want them.

As for the matter of the thirty-years-old woman, I would like to try sometime. But I am aware of that to do that I would need makeup, more classy clothes, a purse full of stuff I pretend to use and a purpose. Mostly the clothes.

The Chair

Is it your place, that chair?
Where you gaze far into
the ruins of your castle,
its intricate labyrinths
where walls have been razed and stairs fallen
and not even the god who once built it
can find the way to its heart.

Is is your bridge, that chair?
Between life and death,
one foot on the side
of your children’s mountain,
one in the vale of your sisters’ graves,
falling, rising, but never closing,
just slowly fading away.

Is it your life, that chair?
angels looking down from the shelves
with eyes, that once meant, on you,
you shake your head but
I wish you would say yes
so that you could rise, from that chair
fly or fall;

be free.


/for you, grandma

Sorry Kirya-fans!

Sorry you guys! This is the first time I haven't kept the 1chapter/week ratio since I started Kirya. I won't point the blame on something else; I've just been distracted and utterly uninspired. My life seems to exist in waves of different aspects, and while I've been in the creative flow for a really long while now, it seems life has continued on into the nerdy phase where all I can think about is silly flash games, monitor reviews and statistics, difficulty level of Dawn of War and whether or not I should buy Magna Carta or renew my World of Warcraft account.

I'm sure the tides will turn once I've played myself bored out of my mind with F.E.A.R (oh, what a pun, hahaha), realized Wow is still too expensive and Magna Carta too old to be found, and cleared Dawn of War. But until then, I'm taking a break. Especially since we have to fill a whole compendium with short stories, poems and other trash before Christmas, and since I'm so uninspired I can't seem to write even ten decent poems (it's in Swedish, for pillow's sake, and to fill it I feel now that I will have to use some English poems too, or I'll never make it).

This will also give me time to figure out the details of the Golden Mountains. Killing is fun.

So. I'll be back. Just not right now.

Nerdy Gerdy

Since I can now surf somewhat fluidly, I started out looking for a first-person shooter. I found F.E.A.R. and the recommended system said: please have 3.0 GHz. I thought: crap. But. Gamespot was nice and provided a online service that checks what your computer can manage, and judge my surprise when it states that my AMD can manage stuff up to 3.2 GHz!! When did that happen?! Not that I complain. ^^ *happehness* It did complain about that my graphix don't do DirectX 9.0c, so I looked for cards that do. Three hours, loads of googling and reviewreading later, I have this:

Wishlist:

Graphix: Radeon X1600 Pro
Monitor (LCD): Mirai DML-419W210
or: Acer AL1916WCS
Sound: Trust Sound Expert Optical
And I should find a better mouse, but I'll do that tomorrow.

Learned today:

Which Radeon you Want To Own.
The Meaning Of All GC Endings, eg. Pro, SE, Hypermemory, sosf.
Difference between LCD and CRT monitors (okay, so I already knew that, but not the details).

Difference between VGA and DVI monitors, why DVI is better, and the stupid extras like DVI-I.
Meaning of Hardware T&L (Transform and Lighting).
Use of S-Video, HDMI, TV-Out and why LCD tv's are easier to connect to a computer.
Why ATI kicks NVidia butt on my computer (because I have AMD processor, which btw kicks Intel butt).

And I am so going to be corrected x 1000 now, because I'm probably wrong about everything. But I've proven that: Learning is fun! And Answers.com rulez.

Now meanwhile I've busied myself writing this (as much for my own memory as your information), I've burned all burnable stuff on my com so that I have some free space. Puh. Let's go to bed.

Maybe now I can play Quake 4 again

I went crazy yesterday and ordered a gig memory for my com, as well as some books. -_- Not buying stuff is impossible! It is! And while I know I can't really afford it, I'm still stupidly happy.

Looking through the available ports on my com to decide whether a two-port 5.1 sound card was worth the trouble, I also found dust. Lots and lots and lots of dust. I learned what a DDR2 and 3 port is, and what a PCI port is, and that sometimes it might be good to dust out your computer just to control the general population of little gray creatures. Seriously! I also decided filling my last 2 PCI ports with one basic soundcard sounded slightly uncomfortable, so I'll wait and see.

Other than that... I thought I had a hundred things to do, but I can't seem to remember even one of them... o_O So I've wasted my time drawing (not exactly wasted, it was a good drawing) and looking through radio stations.

Observe: Jordana Brewster is hot. H. O. T. And now I want to see her in a good, serious role so that we can observe whether she has the skill to balance that hotness.

It could be so simple to get along!

I, and everyone here, share bandwidth with all the little houses in the area (of school). Lately it's been close to impossible to even just open blogs, because people are using BitTorrent and the likes. (People, it doesn't matter how fast or slow you download using torrents, it still eats up the bandwidth, through claiming a dozen or more ports!) So today we had a meeting to ask for some common sense.

Walking into the meeting room, you could see from body positions who would protest and who would not (feet on the table is not a good sign). The whole thing, as feared, turned into some kind of throwing around of stupid personal arguments and intentional misunderstandings, when the fact is that we have to share so let's be sensible, and let the downloaders download during the night. Simple enough. But it seems people are just determined to do things the hardest way possible, stepping on everyone's toes. Fine, we got the message through, but we pissed off a few people, and half an hour after we got back to our rooms, internet completely crashed. Tell me it was a coincidence. Just tell me.

And I who was hoping to be able to use MSN again.

Anyway. Some idiot was here last night, really late, sneaking into houses, trying to get into rooms, scaring some people half to death. He didn't belong here, and he hardly made any sense at all. So from now on: locked doors.

Step Away From My Father!

Okay, now I'm egocentric but you have to hear this. Today we had that "don't drink and drive" thing at school (again), yes yes very relevant to me who have seen the "informative movie" twice before, don't have a driver's license, don't drink, don't party and don't take walks along the highroad. Anyway. Afterwards the woman showing the movie talked about how to stop a friend from driving drunk. She said if you can't, you can always anonymously tip the police and let them take your friend in (good advice methinks). She went on saying this, roughly, but honestly:

"Then we are so lucky to live in northern Värmland where we have aChief of Police named *insert my father's name* who thinks it's very important to hear what the people have to say, so he has installed a special phonenumber where you can call, and always get to a policeman on duty in the area, no matter the time of day. (Since the normal phonenumber keeps connecting you further and further away if no one answers, eventually dropping you off somewhere god knows where, like Skåne.) The rest of the police areas in Värmland doesn't like this, since it's so good, and they don't have it."

I swear, that's what she said! She praised my father for, like, 10 minutes, going on about what he'd done and that she'd met him somewhere. Damned. Never let the woman near him without my mother's presence, I say. But aside from that, I could have lifted like a balloon from my chair from pride.

Sorry. Had to vent it. I'll call dad tomorrow and tell him. And watch him balloon too ^^.

Move

Wow, I'm already tiring of the banner... I have to settle. That said, I have just moved into a different room at school. Smaller, but cozier. The damned curtains, I tell you, they drove me out of my mind. These ones have dropped all pretenses and ambitions and are just simply white; thank pillow for ambitionless curtains.

Drew this pic, might look better if you click it. Had major problems deciding background color and layout, but this is how it ended up for now. There is a point to that only their clothes are colored ^^

There are opposite-colors that make stuff look good, but I've forgotten the opposite of purple. Is it yellow? Maybe I should have made the background yellow...

Anyway, I'm hungry. Let's eat.

Screw organized religion

Aside from writing like a smurf on speed and finally doing my Buddhism homework (should have been done two weeks ago =P) I have tried out MechQuest (.com) which was fun as a waste of time for a little while, and talked to Madde on msn until her computer had the heating experience of too much Jocke-bullshit and with a smashing goodbye entered the next gigaplane of existence.


A very good quote from the buddhism papers I have:
If you understand, things are as they are. If you do not understand, things are as they are.

While I think buddhism is okay, it's like this in the end: I do not believe organized religion is the right path. Sure, it sounds great that someone finds the true purpose of life and then passes it on to the rest of us. But doesn't this sound quite reasonable too: that we all discover small parts each, and if we puzzle them together we will get to the truth? The atom bomb would never have been discovered by one single person; it was a collaboration over dozens of years, discoveries built on each other. The ultimate truth would be something like that, I imagine.

I puzzle together my own belief through what feels right in the soul, and while traditions and stuff is nice and a way to bond with people, they are just that: traditions to honor because it gives peace of mind and shows respect towards our fellow humans. Religion, on the other hand, is personal. It shall be practiced alone and in seclusion. That's what I think, anyway.

We have too few traditions in Sweden, also. For a muslim to turn to Mekka, a Japanese to pray in front of the home altar, a catholic to say the evening prayer, it focuses the mind and gives a sense of familiarity in which we can always relax no matter where or what. I think I'm going to construct my own little tradition. I will return on that.

A Way Through Heaven (C7)

I really got to feel how difficult it is to write someone to be good without being pretentious or... just silly cliché now, and I am pretty sure I failed. But. I still like how the chapter turned out, and I have plenty of ideas for chapter 9 now. Only have to get through chapter 8.

And this chapter is actually named "A Way Through Heaven", even if the file says something else -_- I'm too lazy to change it now, since I only post this temporarily, and when I've written chapter 8-9 I'll group them up and post them more seriously.

So here: Chapter 7. And it's probably not like you think it is. =P

My cat is still ill, coughing, wheezing, having trouble breathing, and now throwing up. Paying the vet didn't help at all. Yet the damned cat is still stubborn enough to run around outside in the cold and fight other cats, and I bet he's beating them to a bloody pulp too. I am very worried, though. I love him more than I love most people. I'll curse every last miserable quark of his eternal soul if he dares to go die on me.

Good Deeds

Shemhazai finally cooperates, I have drawn a nice picture of Akibeel, and I successfully defeated the devils of social interaction and went home instead of going on a stupid Halloween party and had the best time eating candy, writing, and watching tv with my mom and my cats. See? Forget being popular, being happy is so much better.

And no, none of you know who Shemhazai and Akibeel are, but you will. Akibeel is such a horrible name, by the way, but I'm still coming to like it now just because of what I'm doing with it. (Well, a certain someone might have heard the names since I have borrowed them and he seems to know everything about absurd and munchy details =P)

And Sara, thank you so much. The little talk we had on the phone about angels and what a good deed is was so simple, but it helped enormously, it finally molded the picture in my head of the angels into something that I can work with. Without it, I would have sat uninspired and frustrated for another week, I'm absolutely certain.

Nyum nyum...

So... if celebrating Father's Day doesn't ruin my plans, I should have the next chapter finished tomorrow. Hehe... I'm starting to set up deadlines for myself... which is scary.

Cold

All apologies for joker-letterboxes has been accepted. And do you notice how I get six times more expressive when I'm irritated and pissed, than when I'm happy and content? If I was pissed all the times, my writings would be over 200% longer... =P

I sense that I'm going to be irritable a lot from now on, though. I like the darkness and isolation of winter, but I hate the cold. Maybe it's the cold that kicks me down into depression every winter (peope speculated it was the darkness, but I've never found lack of light a problem) and in such case... what the hell to do? Move south as soon as I can? Meet you in Spain, dudes and dudettes.

On a completely different note... I never saw the movie where Littlefoot's mother dies. But I can feel the sorrow when you tell it. ^_-

God, I hate those little "write the screwed up letters and numbers you see in this popadelic picture of happy colors and lines in this little box or we will actively destroy your life" things. Please people, come on, I will, as my brother kindly points out, have a DAMP attack.

This Did Not Make Me Happier

Actually, it's possible this stupid quote I happened to read did the impossible and jumped through the screen, grabbed onto my face like a buttugly little Alien facefucker and shot a load of human insuffrability at it's absolute let-me-stab-you-sixtyfivethousandtimes-best down my throat.

Read on Gamespot's user comments concerning a coming Playboy Magazine issue featuring girls from video games:

SOCCERBALLS

ok 1. girls dont play alot of games anyway. IF your a girl and your a hard core gamer, there is something wrong with you in the first place. 2. guys, WE ARENT COMPLAINING! we want girls naked, DUHHHH the sales will go up DEAD OR ALIVE 4

Followed immediately by:

SOCCERBALLS

oh yah and, go lok up some real porn for christ sakes.

I pride myself with being a calm and sensible person, but hey,

Iceye

Wow. I don't think there's anything wrong with guys wanting to look at pretty girls, but then I didn't think there was anything wrong with hardcore gaming girls either. I must have so much to learn about the world. Hey, Soccerballs, if I go to therapy for my gaming tendencies, will you seek help for your idiocy?

Flat on the Floor

As anyone who reads this blog or is in my life knows, I was to Uppsala during the break. The nice part is that I got to meet everyone, and my life took a big happy swing upward. The not-so-nice thing is how I completely fell down and crashed first thing after getting back, and now I'm completely, utterly flat on the floor, emotionally. So tired, y'know?

Look, honestly, I don't need more friends. I don't want to puke op my intestines trying to be nice and social and polite and correct and find more ones. Come on, please? Give me a nice black hole in the forest. Or through my head.

And if I'm going to be an author and work a little by the side with some weird-ass technical shit, why do I have to write essays on Buddhism when all I really know I have to learn outside of lesson, and read idiotic modernistic ugly unorganized books with golden pages by some freak little partygirl with shiny shoes and blackboardscratching colormatching and a bottle of whiskey in her belly who thinks she knows how it feels?

And why does everything I write have to make sense? Goddammit. If you guys would just accept that things are as I say they are, hey, why not just read my mind right away and I could skip the work of writing it down? Okay. Now I'm being ironic and a little frustrated with how Semhazai absolutely refuses to cooperate with me in the next chapter though I love him so much,

but the rest is serious.

I think I just figured it out. Cloud, I mean. To make it make sense to those of you who wouldn't if I told it as it is (= the rest of the world) I'll make a nice, religiously incorrect analog. Cloud is simply the skin that my person angel took on to be able to reach me, since I would never have paid him attention if he'd said he's an angel.

When I told him I'd figured him out, he just smiled a little.

Veronic

I've been posting stupidly many Swedish poems considering this is an English blog, but I just haven't had time to write many English... well, I'm going to post something for more short-term enjoyment anyway:


From the song "Feathers of Angels."
by Leroy Veronic

Through the eyes of the angels
the world must seem dark
with its tempests and trials of life
In the arms of the heavens
beneath showers of light
they must look with surprise on our strife.

Can you see the feathers of angels
raining down like blessings of sky
Can you feel the mercy of angels
to with love correct all gone awry


This is an excerpt from a human-written song in the One World universe, depicting just what humans really think of angels. It'll probably show up in the story too, but I just felt like I've been out of poems for a long while now. =P I don't stand for it, believe me, I'm too dark, but most people think angels are good, right?

Chapter 6

Okay, so chapter 6 is finished. I post it in a package ch 4-6 because it's annoying to have all these shard files put up.

Kirya ch 4-6
(chapter 6 is called "Strength of Borrowed Arms" which I am very proud of since titles are so hard ^^)

And the next chapter is somewhat of a challenge for me to write, I know that already before starting since it's of great significance for the story how I write it (yes, fun huh?) , plus that school starts again tomorrow... which means that my schoolwork will suffer significantly.

Well, Einstein never liked school either.

For curious

Some people wanted to read a silly little thing I wrote a while ago. It was the first time I finshed a story that long (115 pgs) so I like it simply of sentimental reasons. It's cute, slightly shonen-ai, and surprisingly cohersive. I might edit it and make it cooler sometime, but very likely not, either way, it's fun.

So I'm putting it up. I've changed the name a hundred times, but right now I call it The Return (the file is named Driac and Kaory for different reasons).

The Return

Don't take it seriously, but enjoy.

vagueness of light and darkness

I got to write 3 hours (of which 20 minutes were spent defeating Microsoft Word's ego) while people were at school today. Reol finally found his place, and I finally decided for how Kirya's form of battle will look. ^^ I think that was the last piece of her person as she is now, and I am embarrassingly proud of myself.

I need to add darkness to the darkness, so to say, because I think the image given so far has pictured demons as rather okay creatures, and by human standards they're everything but. It's just the Lifestealers who aren't really demons but have been clumped together with them by humans and angels.
I also need to add light to the light, because so far, angels have appeared like violent one-tracked idiots, and I mean, obviously there's a reason that people think of light and darkness as they do. Angels have helped humanity immensly. But I'll have my opportunity to better their image soon.

I want to write more! =P

Jittery

Day 2 of Uppsala. Or day 1, depending on how you see it. It took a hell of a lot of time to get here yesterday. But the night ended on McDonalds (the looks of pain on my friends' faces as we gave up finding cheap food and headed for the Donc, they were so worth coming here for) and with some roleplaying. I can't say I've grasped the feeling of Exalted yet, but it will come, I hope. It didn't go straight home like Vampire, but we'll see over time.

I managed to prepare some stuff and think some stuff about Kirya and other things on the train too. So honestly, I'm pretty jitterish here about not being able to write until I get back home. I sit around making secret plans of how to steal people's computers since I, asocial as I am, brought my USB-stick with the writings "just in case". =P And I have homework I should do when I get back home too... as if.

Chapter 5

I should have vacations more often =P Wow... life like a real author might be like this... damn, I want it! Got into a flow and here is chapter 5.
Theme of this chapter: Obon <3

Matters of the Closed Fist

I'm not entirely sure of that this chapter is completely finished; if it's too angsty tell me!!! I don't want it to go all whine whine, but there's also truths to be told, and a feeling to be established for the continuation. So you say; but how can we know if it's too angsty until we read the rest? Well, the point is to know if it's too angsty when you don't know the future. So Tell Me! ^^

I feel I need to move on a little, been standing a bit still for a while. But don't want to shorten the style when the beginning has been flowing so nicely. Maybe one or two chapters more, hopefully only one, and a character whom I've been waiting so much for will finally appear! ^^ Not that I'll tell you who that is even when I present him/her, but anyways... =P So bear with me, I have big plans.

**Going on a trip, may not post for five or so days**

Chapter 4

Theme of this chapter: speaking up.

Truth of Words Unsaid (Kirya Chapter 4)

This thing about adding new characters is a delicate business: too many names, even if it's only sidecharacters, confuses a story and dulls the focus. But often people solve this by re-using characters earlier introduces in places where they shouldn't appear naturally, and I refuse to do that. And if the reader knows, automatically, that every character that is introduced has an important role to play, they sit and wait for something big to happen them. That's not how reality is. So I work a lot on what character to add and what to not, and how to have them come and go.

The whole Tales of Ruins sequence (it's actually named One World, Tales of Ruins is just a part) is the story of a world, with all that means considering politics and games for power. I try to make it real, but focus on smaller people caught in the middle, or it would be as fun as reading a history book (Okay, history books are fun, but maybe not *this* fun ^^). Anyway, some stories handle bigger events, like Tales of Ruins, some concern smaller.

And what category does Kirya belong to? You'll find out if you keep reading. :3

Smile

Nyum nyumm... :3 <-- me-happy-sound


Swedish poem time:

Det finns många små ögonblick.

... som att dra någons blick från TV:n mitt i reklamen utan att säga eller göra nåt.
... som att få köttbullar till nudlarna av någon man inte känner.
... som att få en flytväst i handen utan förvarning eller ifrågasättande.
... som att snyggisen klappar i händerna efter sitt ex framträdande.
... som att springa ihop med någon som håller bussen åt en.
... som att någon skrämmer bort det där fyllot genom att prata om plankor.
... som att upptäcka att man förstår en människa ingen annan tycker om.
... som att läsa en artikel om sin far i lokaltidningen skriven av nån som försöker förståsigpå.
... som att få ett felsms som undrar om man vill behålla barnet.
... och en massa andra saker som får folk att fråga en: Vad fan går du runt och flinar om?

Words from Lavender

I still have nothing to write so I'll post an excerpt from chapter 4 that I am exceptionally proud of. ^^

The rest of the day he drew symbols in the sand near the road and connected each one to a sound from his mouth, chaining them together into words and meanings. He showed her how to write her name, and she stared at the strange signs that her own hands had made, who were calling for her from the earth itself. These symbols, in this very order and form, was she, was her and everything she was. Just like the symbols for ‘tree’ incorporated the essence of a tree, and nothing else. A powerful force, that Obon treated most carelessly, hastily scribbling them with a stick.
She was more careful, took her time to form the lines and curves, and watched the word ‘tree’, almost expecting the stem and roots and leaves to spring from the ground. But they didn’t, and she understood that too, eventually, even if Obon said nothing of it. It was not the tree itself that hid within the word, but the spirit of it, a bubbling force swirling invisibly along the spirals of the letters.
And utilizing this force, she could speak.

Soooo... I've actually drawn a Random-Female-Lunar and Keloria today, but on paper, so sorry... but I don't think I could draw those layers and layers of clothes nicely with the tablet. -_- Also I am now editor of the anthology my class writes, collects and prints together. Fun! ^^ Though I don't know what to fill my part of it with: I write novels, not prose or poems, normally. I guess I'll have to write some sort of short story again for it, one that is actually good. =P

Loss

I discover new losses with my memory card every moment.

The levels and aeons of FFX. All the old Ratchet & Clank, that I need for the new games. The file with an almost completed Resident Evil 4. All the money and equipment earned in Soul Calibur 3. The file in Kingdom Hearts 2 where I was about to deafeat Sephiroth. The 100% in Final Fantasy X-2. The damned work I put down on Devil May Cry 2. //.Hack, that I'll never finish again. Okami. Shadow of the Colossus. ICO. Syberia... and so much more. Hundreds of hundreds of hours vanished with one stupid person's ignorance. The list goes on and on and... what should I do?

What. Should. I. Do?!?!

Self-Portrait

Yup, that's me, up there to the left ^^ I like the new banner. And the new catchphrase. It suits me.

It appears the vets doesn't know what's wrong with my kitty, even as they had him a whole day x-raying and poking the poor thing, but as always they gave us some antibiotics that'll be hell to get into him, and billed us for a good portion of green. Well, if the meds actually help his breathing and fixes the coughing, I don't care. To be honest, I'm just happy he didn't have lungcancer or some other of the thousande scenarios I made up.

Unproductive

Soon vacation. I feel like I've been rather unproductive these last days. No poems, no drawings, nothing valuable to say. I heard EB Games had been looking for personnel, and maybe it's lucky I didn't hear until too late, because if I could have gotten that job... who knows if I'd still be here. Yes, I know, education and all that. But I'm soooo lazy, and I'm not going to be a brainsurgeon anyway. I think when whoever put me together gave me the better parts of my mind, they forgot to give me the necessary parts for survival. Like responsability and disciplin. ^^ Yet I'm here... mostly because it's easy. If walking away was easier than staying, you'd be eating my dust.

Let's make a new banner for the blog.

To All My Friends

Most important in my life: people who like me.

I am somewhat of a lone wolf who tends to not discuss my decision processes and sometimes grow quite controversial opinions that prohibit me from expressing my thoughts in public, but I am *completely dependent* on people who like me enough to express it, even if I'm slow to express my own appreciation, and who can give me compliments without me asking for them, since I seldom do.

Thus, thank you, all my friends, and especially those who know what I'm talking about now. I pretend to be many things, many many many things, and I'm doing quite a good job of it, to the point where I don't even want the people I love to know the truth about me, even when I feel bad about not being able to be who I am. The human mind is truly amazing. *sigh*

Another discovery about myself: the hunt is so much better than the catch. I am a hunter. Leave to others to enjoy the defeated prey. Translated: Once people want me, I've won, and I have no interest in being anything but friends. So sorry. Be careful, I'm evil.

Sara, I will care for your diary as if was it the love child of my cat. (And don't underestimate the seriousness of that, I still feel physically sick when I think about anything bad happening to that cat.)

On Lunars:

Since I'm pissed as hell at whatever idiot has stolen my PS2 memory card, I really don't feel like elaborating on my mental state. What I really feel like is slowly stabbing someone to death with my fingernails. But nevermind.

Instead, I'll answer some critizism over Falorn.

This is hard without writing an entire essay, but okay. Barbaric: yes. Lunars are rather civilized, but they make an effort to appear simpler in public. They're too proud to sink as low as to appear just stupid, though, so they tend to gravitate toward imitating the "strong and silent" type. The scarce clothing is also a way to show off their tattoos, since more and more complicated tattoos indicate power and authority, as well as a remnant from their tribal days. It is possible by the fact that they have very high resistance to cold. At first sight they may seem *very* barbaric and many fear violence judging them by appearance, but the Lunars emit a friendly, calming aura, especially under moonlight. Get close enough inside that aura, and all you're going to see is a big, blue, favorite uncle, which is a theatre the Lunars are happy to enforce.

Falorn is one of the best, sharpest Lunars. His favorite take on a situation is to rush in to the aid of people (preferrably women) as the perfect, low key gentleman and offer his service to "help" whatever this person may need, only cleverly twisting it to his own advantage. The other Lunars respect his skills, but he is not the most popular character, since sometimes his methods are harsh even for them (which, let me tell you... this guy is not someone you want to meet the real personality of).

Finally, Lunars are vain. They hide it, they deny it, but they are hopelessly vain. The Lunar males noticed that they came off more impressive when they *undressed*, since they are large and muscular of build naturally. (Look at Felahr here -->, he's still a young male, and the other Lunars think he's a skinny mommy's boy.) (The females dress is miles of thin, light cloth draped in all shapes and manners, except the few who fight.)

Blehg... there's loads to say. This is enough to explain the barbaric appearance of them, though. They're not supposed to come off as fair like elves, I hope they didn't in my writing. Just, the aura of a Lunar makes just as much impact on how he appears as his actual features and clothes, only that can't be shown in a picture. And they actually control their auras.

The Reinians have a saying about Lunars: "The only way to know if a Lunar is lying is to kill him. If his ghost seems insulted, then he might have been telling the truth."

Dates

Halloween party 9/11. Nice.

Mikael leaves this Friday, comes back after the break (29/10 - 2/11) a mini-taste of how the spring term will be, since he only stayes until Christmas.

Therese had a presentation today about SAC. Some form of socialistic, half-ass non-political, group for workers who don't believe in capitalism and hierarchy. It was interesting and thought-provoking, and a little scary. I feel our opinions about one or two things might clash a bit, but strangely enough I also feel I - we - could handle that, which is unusual, since I don't like conflicts. Must be beacuse she's so cool =P

I'm going to Uppsala to visit people 30/11 and comes back 3/11. Mmm, long train travels alone. Seriously. The world doesn't offer a better opportunity to think.

I have too many movies to watch. Someone tell me if Planet Terror is worth the time, please?

And that's Falorn, though I'm not completely satisfied with how the clothes turned out. Also, there's no frame of reference here, but he's about 2 meters tall and usually quite looming.

Cya

Ännu en fin liten modernistisk dikt (jag fattar fortfarande inte om den är modernistisk eller inte, men whatevs) som inte har någon titel och inte heller ska ha någon.

Det ska sitta en lapp här,
enligt förpackningen.
En lapp som säger
vad som helst.
Jag ska sätta dit den själv.

Den ska sitta precis här,
enligt bruksanvisningen.
En liten lapp på en
välaviserad plats.
Jag ska skriva på den själv.

Men där finns ingen lapp
inuti plasten.
Ingen vit och ingen svart
och ingenting säger den.
Så vad ska jag skriva på den?

Rockstaaaaaar!!!

Hmm... that poem (Emotions, damn what a corny title, I'll make a new one, look up) would be perfect for a song. I just need a chorus...

Turn away from me and taste the world outside.
Walk away from me and let me run and hide.
Forget me, so I can hate in peace.
Forgive me, so I can return to being me.

There! Good. Now... eh...
The sad thing is, I attend a school full of musicians, but I don't dare to ask any of them to make music for me. Why? Well... I don't feel like writing an essay about that right now.

(Okay, I wasn't entirely serious about that title. Let me go to sleep.)