Friday, May 30, 2008

Carnege

Forgot to tell about the Tattoo Expo (but Nightflyer filled you in a little, I guess?). Fun. So many ideas, so little time. And so little space! I don't want to cover my entire body in tattoos. =P But I came to think of that if could be a good way to hide my skin-thing. I could totally imagine tattooing the entire left arm, shoulder to wrist, which would cover it up. I thought about piercing my ear, finally (two holes in the right ear, don't want in both) but didn't feel like it right then. I will definitively get a tattoo eventually, but I'll need to pile up some gold first; my treasury is in a sad state.

The evening ended with Iron Man, a most superb movie, though his lovidoviness with Pepper irritated me. Can Hollywood produce one single movie without having to add love to the story? The old "the hero gets the girl", and the old "hero saves girl" really pulled a lot from my final opinion of it.

The Expo all in all resulted in two things: web addresses and phonenumbers to very good artists in case I, in the future, would have the cash to go get a tattoo by a real skilled artist. And this:


This is Carnege. He's a psychopathic alien-infested bad guy in Spider-Man. (Everybody say: "Hello Carnege!")

I saw a photo of him being tattooed to some guy's arm (this exact picture) and I thought... he could make a real good tattoo. I love tattoos that look as if the image is a part of the body, either a pattern following natural lines or something crawling out from underneath the skin. Carnege's loopy symbiot would be perfect for it, while maintaining my nerd-factor. I think it could get really good. ^^ Only problem is to get someone to sketch the final image out; I can't really do this symbiot-thing very well.

I have candy, chips, and a new game. Cheerios!

Monday, May 26, 2008

Existential Writier's Blabberings

Recording of day-to-day mood antics: Kirya sucks. I need to read it through. I need to change loads, I know that before even having read it through. There are loads of stuff that doesn't work. It doesn't say what I want it to say. My characters have no personality. I ruined Obon. What the hell is this latest chapter, what the hell am I trying to do with Shemhazai... why do I always twist and turn the reality in the same damned shape? Why do I make angels the bad guys? That doesn't surve the purpose. Bad writing. And what am I trying to do with Crow anyway? I just changed his personality from the other writing at will. Bad writing.

My other me thinks this is bullshit, but she's a little tired today. I thought it would be interesting simply for my own sake to write this pointless existential blabbering down just to show myself how ridiculus it is. Blogs aren't exactly diaries but... good for me, in a way, to make it "public". Makes it harder to ignore.

Anyways, this was selfish, thanks for listening. ^^

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

By writing these lines

By writing these lines
do I separate myself from you?
By old clichés of feelings
and old expressions about darkness
have I shown myself any different
from any of you?
If we all share darkness
If we all whisper instead of speak
If we all are the same
why would I do this?

One artist in every village
One joker in every castle
One plagued teenager in every home
Two would destroy them
Nonetheless
Their loneliness was never chosen

Only by seeing the bigger picture
can you see that what is good
is less than what is bad
Only by doing this
can you change it
But seeing it
changes you

When we see beyond
we scorn those who have not yet seen
but did we understand those who scorned us
before we saw?

The blind cannot understand sight
The deaf cannot comprehend sound
Thus you
cannot see or hear me
until your mind has grown eyes and ears
No blame on you
All blame on you
And no one I can shout at

Anger
Rage
Like a silent
Beat
In my chest
Like a shadow of a sixth sense
Once known, now forgotten
Ghost pain from a stolen limb

Fists
Teeth
And only my
Eyes
Can still howl
Like the beast starved to silence in its cage
Once howled in the night
Blood dripping from satisfied jaws

Its fangs
Like razor sharp snowflakes
A handful sprinkled in the wind
It has starved
for many nights now

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Knowledge 2

More things I'd like to do, in the name of subjective knowledge:

* Smash a window (or any glass) with the little hammers designated that purpose found in busses.
* Meet my grandparents back in the time before they were grandparents.
* Learn a part in a real play (or part thereof) written by someone else and in a serious manner, but not necessarily for performing in public.
* Learn to ride a horse.
* Work real charity shit, like in Africa or something.

In other news: back from Uppsala. Sorry you guys I didn't get a chance to talk to you more seriously, which I would have wanted, things went kind of fast and I was really tired. Hospitals tend to drain energy as if I was a zombie with a barrage of regen cast onto me - and they stacked.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

All the Wiser

Hockeywise: Damn. But it was Canada. What else was there to believe.

Partywise: Ball at school yesterday. Had whiskey for the first time. (Equally disgusting as all other alcohol. Kinda' hard to motivate myself to drink when it tastes like date expired cold medicin.)

Otherwise: I'm reading the first issues of X-Men. Laughing at the cheesyness. Smiling at the cuteness. Being amused by the obvious connections to the politics at the time.

Personalitywise: I did make some interesting realizations from talking too much after the ball. For one that it's people's concern that make me hide in a corner when I'm all down for the count. If I could just be ignored, invisible, I mean completely gone and unnoticed, then I think it wouldn't be a problem. I get this voice inside whining about "what do people think about you when you do this", knowing how much people misunderstand me, and everyone. So if I knew no one thought anything about me, then I'd be fine.
Look at the world's most reknown dramas. They all build on misunderstandings and slight mistakes. Remembering this, I think you can understand why I'd rather hide in a corner. The small things just overwhelm me by numbers. On a regular day I manage to ignore this. On a bad day, not so well.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Suggestion for the Book Circle ^^

I have too many thoughts in my head right now.

I finished "Flyga Drake" today by Khaled Hosseini (I don't know what it's called in English). Horrible book to read, I was on the verge of crying 75% of the time and two times I seriously considered putting it down and never picking it up again because it hurt too much. But it opened my eyes a lot to the complexity of the conflict in Afghanistan and to my own prejudices, besides being a great book about being a human, about loving, losing and letting down. (It's also made into a movie now, but I seriously doubt it could carry through into a movie very well. People say it's good but very, very different from the book.) It's not political, which I appreciate. Only human, and very emotional. I got a headache every time I read in it. But it was probably worth it, though the end wasn't as well written as the beginning and mid-section.

I have also been to a small introduction to the education I'm applying for this fall. It really sounds like the perfect "me". They said I needed: math (check), english (check), computer familiarity (check), 3D thinking (check), creativity (check), and interest in technology and machinery (check, though no schooling). I'll be alternatively sitting and standing, very good for my leg. I'll learn business planning and presentations, sorely needed. Teaching takes place about three days a week in a classroom and the rest homework or over the internet. Male-dominated workplace. The teacher we met seemed like the perfect kind of man; confident, straight-forward, kind.
It's too good. I'm scared out of my freaking mind. Especially of getting my hopes up. Maybe also of settling in too well here. Do I want to live the rest of my life around here? I used to not understand people who would. But I'm growing into it. This is my home. No matter what I think of it, it's difficult for me to leave it.

Yeah. Too many thoughts. Reading the book made all these old thoughts wake up. I used to want to become a psychiatrist. Don't think I could manage it, neither the long time of school or the mental pressure. But that has always been the thing closest to my mind in the subject of "making the world a better place". Taking care of orphans or abused homeless animals.

I didn't want to have children because I was afraid I wouldn't like the kid. But maybe that's part of it. How could I ever know whether I would like him/her or whether I would make a good parent? How does anyone know? Maybe I want a child after all. In any case, passing on my genes might make the world a slightly better place. Yes, I am that full of myself.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Russia - Sweden 3-2

Five *fucking* seconds. Five! We dominated the damned game. Sad, pissed, stupid Ovechkin = happy Swedes. It was a physical game, we played with four backs, forwards having to come down playing defense, but did the best game so far. Had a few fights (I keep squealing at them to stop but in the end some fighting belongs to hockey. Even I have to admit that. That is, in part, what makes it superior to, for example, silly football.) and did a few goals. And did I say I hate Ovechkin? This was totally unfair. Being interested in sports, any sport, is like falling in love. If you don't get invested, you don't get hurt. But not being invested is boring. Alright, next game I'll excuse anyone for not watching. It's at 02:00 in the morning. Bleagh.

I really miss skating. I don't know why I don't skate more often. It's the closest one can come to flying. To slide across the ice, feel the speed, the force, the momentum, the friction. Actually it's as if my body enjoys the sheer physics of it, the balance, everything. I can think of few physical activites that beats it. If any.

Friday, May 9, 2008

Denmark-Sweden 1-8

Hi. I will assume you are all watching the Hockey World Championship, and cheering for our boys. The only excuses for not watching it I will accept are:

You have IB exams.
Finding a TV would be accompanied by mortal danger.
You are blind. (But then you should at least keep track of the results on radio.)
You are not Swedish. (In which case you, obviously, cheer for another team.)

If you're not interested in the sport itself, why not come over and watch me yell at the tv?

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Mr. Cat

Made some half-assed attempt at new coloring which proved too time-consuming to actually be worth it. This didn't get at all like I imagined. In another world where I wasn't lazy as hell, I'd learn how to make it look like his knives were glowing. =P But I think it tured out better than the pencil original, which is cool. Coloring realistic skin and eyes are hard! So screw that, I'll stick to the more cartoonish style from now on.

And dudes, what happened to "yes, ms, of course we'll vote on your poems, we just forgot, let me tell my girlfriend and we'll get right on it"? Huh?

Saturday, May 3, 2008

"Only Spartan women can give birth to real men!"

My view of honor has been seriously fucked up by all comics and books I've read throughout my childhood, so I must say that watching 300 was an enormous experience. I wish I'd had the sense to watch it on cinema, but I had been gruesomely misinformed that it was just a long splasher movie of too much blood, like a prolonged version of the mad crusade-slaughter in Kingdom of Heaven. That is, I believe, the part I like the least in KoH, so I avoided 300 and was idiotic enough to ignore the fact that several of my best liked friends and webcomics continuously kept yelling "This Is Sparta!" at all odd times.

I now stand corrected. I watched it approximately five minutes ago, and my fingers are itching to press the play button again. Just to illustrate how good I thought it was, I can honestly say that I was not once distracted by the disturbingly many (300, I believe^^) half naked and very muscular men in cool looking mantles and helmets soaked in sweat and blood standing around with flexing muscles being zoomed in on every other second. Now that I think of it, I do believe I should press the play button again and pay a little more attention to that fact. Excuse me for a few hours or so.

Oh, and I also watched Stardust. It's like a fairytale (for some reason I'd gotten it into my head that it was Science Fiction, so boy was I in for a surprise). Very cute. Right. Bye.

Friday, May 2, 2008

Waaah, I just noticed, it says 21 downloads of About Love on my hosting page. 21? Scary! My inner paranoid Modesty Blaise requires me to have everyone observe my Copyright claims! Hahahahaha.... yeah.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Knowledge

I was going to wait you guys out until you voted on poems, but my patience isn't as great as some people think. ^^ So here's another contribution to the wide world of random information.

Things I'd want to test myself with but don't think I can/want/will arrange:

* Kill, skin, slaughter and cook my own food. A cow maybe. Or a rabbit. Fish don't count.
* Have to deal with a seriously mentally ill person.
* Tame a wild animal.
* Walk along the river here from home to K-stad. Preferably without telling anyone, before or after.
* Be in a real fight. Yes, I know I can't fight, that's not a factor.
* Be really drunk. No, I haven't been, I'm cheap and afraid of the maybes.
* Watch a human die.

There are probably more, can't think of any right now. Since most of my readers are the people they are, I think you'll understand what I mean with this. Experience. True knowledge.

But a few of these I really hope I will arrange in my lifetime.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

MRI, Bus, Rik's, Creativity, Kristin and Uppsala.

I went to K-stad this Thursday. (More MRI, I love them. I mean, radioactive stuff in my bloodstream, being basically cargo-lifted into an enormous machine with one tiny entry and lie there in that tight white tunnel with one blue line to stare at and absolutely forbidden to make the smallest move, barely allowed to breathe for half an hour, while the monstermachine thunders and clonks like a spaceship repair around you. No, really. You think I'm sarcastic, but I'm not.) I sat on the bus and a hundred thoughts passed through my head at amazing speed. Buses are the most perfect place to think, thoughts just fly away like the passing forest, nothing else to distract but enough stimuli to make your head start off.

I thought a lot about the wonderful and rewarding conversations I, or we rather, had while at Rik's. I make myself wonder why I ever thought the world would be a better place without people. The correct solution is: the world would be a much better place with the right people. I know I can't express myself very well in speech, and maybe not well enough for some of you in written word either, but talking like we did is really giving me so much. Which is why, I guess, I always walk around on clouds for a day or so and then crash with all the right gravitational values doing a fair d20+10 bashing and have to crawl up from my body-shaped pit with claws and teeth. Why does the word "leave" have to exist? I think I'm going to start seeing it as "breaks" instead, between visiting.

Anyway, I'm out of the pit now, and today for the first time in months I really feel like writing. We'll see if anything actually comes out of it, but either way, it's a big confidence boost that I even had the urge. Lately creativity has been limited to school and SketchChallenge. So sad. Okay, I wrote all this in one streak as it came to mind, so let me go back and divide it into paragraphs so it's actually readable =P

There. ^^ Oh, and we got some extra time (I got, not you Phaze) for the Antologi. So if you haven't already, do like Kristin and put down a vote on the previous post for which poems you think should make it. I still have the final word, and once there I'll probably choose completely different than what you ask, but I still want to know. (I'm actually not really sure whether I'm joking, lying or being serious right now.)

Oh, btw, I'm going to Uppsala from the 5th to maybe 7th or 8th to the great big nice friendly not at all striking hospital. Probably. Unless they really are striking a strike. Mom will be with me and I dunno how it's gonna be and afterwards I'll be exhausted, so even if I should, I probably won't have the energy to visit you guys, unless they won't have anything for me to do any of the afternoons, because then I might be able to dump mom and pop by to show off my awesome and cool hospital identification bracelet. Anyway, we can probably talk about this is you guys have time and feel like it. Hey, you might even be able to pop by the hospital and see the nice and surprisingly white room! =P Yeah...

Allrighty-o. C'ya.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Help wanted!

Okej, skrivprojekten var uppvärmning. Nu ska Antologin sammanställas och jag ska välja ut texter för den, och det är liksom den som kommer "publiceras" eller iaf få en större läsarkrets än min lilla mängd nära och kära. Vilket betyder; beslutsångest! Jag har bestämt att ha med Mellanstadietexten från skrivprojekt 2, fast den är überpersonlig, eller kanske just därför. Men utöver det tänkte jag ha två el fler dikter från skrivprojekt 1 och det är där det skär sig. Vilka? Jag slits mellan kvalité och känsla!

So... help? Suggestions? Quick!

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

In the Head of Iceye 01

On selves...
Is the only solution to not being depressed to think shiny bright thoughts? Is the only escape from turning into Eyore to transform yourself into the princess in Enchanted? To erase a part of yourself to be able to survive? We do that. Some guy cut off his own arm with an swiss army knife to survive. Just the same, we can cut off parts of our mental selves. But just as every last cell within me screams of raging protests if I hold a blade close to my skin, regardless if it's sharpened, the mere thought of cutting off a part of myself... Is this bravery or folly?

On memories...
I just watched an episode of House where a man thought the woman he was in love with was engaged to his brother and the emotions were so strong he had heartattacks whenever she came near. He decided to let the doctors remove his memories - everything from birth to present - to get rid of the memory of her, and he refused to tell her the truth. It's tv, I know. Still. How? If there is a soul my soul would still be me if my memories were gone. If behavior is programmed in the DNA, I would still be me if my memories were gone. I believe in both these. And sometimes I think I should forget some things and get on with my life. But to forget, to lose control, to let go, is the most frightening thing I can think of.

On love...
Is love the feeling of being able to give your life for someone? Then I've been in love. Is love the feeling of being prepared to share the rest of your life with someone? Then I've been in love. I've been in love if love is to want to kill, maim and destroy whoever hurts the person. If love is to be jealous of all attention given to someone else. If love is to stop and be amazed at how beautiful someone is even though you've seen him/her a hundred times before. If love is to have pain shoot through your body at the thought of losing this person to anyone or anything. If love is selfless, comfortable, protective, possessive, admiring and painful - if love is the ability to project, deflect, deny and doubt - then I have been in love. I am in love. Am I not?
Love is not beginning, nor end. It is a part of the cycle like everything else. What matters most to me? What are my true intentions?

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Advice

Atkins - it works. But take it easy. It's for losing weight, not for living on forever.
And non-Atkins-dieting people, don't eat too much of their tasty fat food. You'll get stomach ache.

Read between the lines of a cereal box: the best way to get away from anxiety for bikini season is not to get comfortable with your body but to eat our cereal and get skinny.
(Note the bikini season. Not swimsuit, not bathing-trunks, but bikini.)

Existentialism - the reason people think it's depressing is because it's realistic.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

I'm a mess-y miss-y

Hi. As another pointless, interesting post, and as a continuation on the subject of hairy men, I will mention the conflict between ideals and selves.

We all have some sort of ideal in our heads, right? This is how I'd want to be-ideals. Or this is perfect-ideals. We're quite aware of which parts are possible to achieve and which are not and to which lenghts we're ready to go to get it (like, would you do plastic surgery or agree to be brainwashed?) and those are personal too. I'm thinking something along the lines of: you can think a piece of clothing looks really good and is really beautiful but you'd never wear it yourself. (I'm writing "you" when in fact I mean "I" but you know that already.) You can admire a trait in someone else but not want it for yourself. I'm talking a lot about appearance here but that's because that's how this came to mind for me.

So it's about striking a balance, isn't it? I want to say the only thing that matters is what you think of yourself but I'd be lying. You also have to like the person other people see when they look at you because that is also you. Identity isn't just yours, it belongs to everyone. So.

As for me, I'm often surprised at how well people can understand me, sometimes, because most of the time it feels like I'm running around doing random stuff, wearing random stuff, thinking it's smart because it shows people who I am but I fail. I guess that means I don't fail. But then I'm pissed because I'm so predictable.
It's a mess, isn't it. ^^

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Wasting time 101: Tip 44 - pricehunt


I'm supposed to be working.
But I calculated prices on burnable DVDs from Clas Ohlson instead.

You can get them a lot cheaper elsewhere. Like, from 0,4 kr/GB (but then it's only 8x speed). And that wasn't the point. ^^

Yesterday was my brithday (sounds like a poem title)

Hi! Yesterday was my birthday. I got seven glass plates for my seven glass cups and a glass bowl. I also got my ring (in a way). I left my medicine at school so I'm looking forward to heavy headache tonight. My cat refuses to sleep in my lap. I've had half an egg, two shrimps and an inch of a Mars-bar for breakfast. I have to choose between finishing my school project on time or visit my very, very, very ill grandmother. I'm actually starting to think my little brother is a decent person. I also have promised to help him study for his test in physics. My father + Atkins' diet = less weight, more obsession, no improvement of mood. The weather sucks over here.

With the sheer amount of posts I produce, you didn't really think every one was going to be intelligent, did you?

Friday, April 4, 2008

review

Our teacher in religion, who also is a priest and with a doctorate in teology, said we should see it if we wanted and then we could talk about it in class. We haven't had class yet, so I might bring this up again later, but I wanted to talk about it now anyway. Firstly, something within me didn't like this movie. It wasn't the violence, the religiousness, the Mel Gibson, I can't put my finger on what. But aside from this instinctive reaction, there was a lot to like and hate.

As a means for learning, it's bliming. The character of Satan (played by a woman for all intents and purposes) wanders around in the different scenes, seen by no one but Jesus, eternally present. The part of Christianity that Gibson belongs to believes that, simply put, Jesus was the bait with which Satan was defeated. Satan thought that he was winning, driving people to kill the son of God, but when Jesus was dead Satan realized he had lost, that because Jesus died for the sins of mankind he would never have much power over them again. This is illustrated beautifully in the movie. There is also the theory of the angry god, the god that must take all his rage out on his son to be able to forgive mankind, thus Jesus inhuman suffering. I would assume Gibson believes this also, otherwise how would he justify the sheer amount of violence. Then there is the belief in the strong connection between Jesus and Maria, that the holy mother would have shared some supernatural bond with him, a belief especially nurtured in the Catholic church. The portrayal of Judas is also interesting, with his regret and eventual madness, as opposed to the other theory of Jesus having his betray him to bring about the passion and his release from his human body.

Artistically, it's rather well thought out. The set is beautiful, costumes feel natural. Some things feel exaggerated, such as weather effects and a lot of slow-motion shots. And for some reason I'm bothered by the fact that Jesus is so handsome. It makes me think of animal rights and the fact that some people only think we should save the cute animals and forget the rest. Anyway. The movie begins in the garden where Jesus is betrayed by Judas, where we also see Satan for the first time, and "necessary information" is then given as flashbacks along the way. There is a specifially fantastic sequence when Jesus is standing on the hill where they will nail him to the cross. The screen cuts to when Jesus was having dinner with his apprentices, where a small package is carried to the table, and the cloth wrapping thrown aside to reveal the bread. In the next moment you see the soldiers tear the clothes off Jesus' body.

Some have complained about the fact that they speak Arameic, the language that Jesus was supposed to have spoken. I thought it was a detail that greatly added to the realism, which is needed, since the reasonable part of my mind whines about some things that feel wrong, such as how could Jesus possible carry the damned cross when the other guy who comes in, who hasn't had the skin whipped from his body, can hardly walk with it. Then there is clear antisemitism here and there. Rivalery between Christianity and Judism may be unavoidable, but if Gibson want people to take him seriously, he may need to take them seriously. I doubt Jesus said anything about jews being bad.

As for the violence, I can't help but wonder how possible it is, how much a real human being could take. And also whether it is a part of the legend that Jesus could take much more than anyone else. Wasn't he supposed to be human also? The only part I couldn't bear to watch was when they actually nailed him to the cross. More the sound than the imagery, I imagine.

All in all, worth watching if you're interested in the religious aspects, and I believe more to be seen as symbolic than litteral, even if Gibson probably wouldn't agree.