mr brightside - the killers

Now they're going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head
But she's touching his chest now

I know what a few of you - if you're part of a certain sect in TX, USA - thinks: Friggin' gay band, stop listening to them or you'll turn gay yourself!
Reading this shite makes me not to say frustrated, but also slightly scared. "God hates fags; Listen to the music video here". I mean... what the fudge? What's happening?

For thou honorable people that refuses to read anymore of these sites after seeing what they contain, I can give you the content in short.

An American sect, another of many based in Texas, is pumping out their message to the world: God hates faggots, homsexuality is a sin and a choice, and homosexuality shall be fought.

Bullshit. Shoot me in the foot and send me to Lucifer, but it's plain bullshit and nothing else. This whole site is proclaiming hate and narrow minds, and honestly: It makes me sick. I honestly feel nauseous while reading it, but in a more or less angry way. If I one time would have the "privilege" to meet that Reverend Donnie I'd sincerely poke him in the eyes.

Just for fun, I'd like to present the following bands from the "gay warning-list" that I listen to:

Cole Porter
The Doors
The Strokes
Pet Shop Boys
Judas Priest
Rolling Stones
David Bowie
Elton John
Eminmen (if the twat is talking about "Eminem", then yes)
The Killers
30 seconds to Mars
Frank Sinatra
Nickleback (but ain't it spelled "Nickelback"?)
Red Hot Chili Peppers
Panic! at the Disco
Elton John (really gay!)
Please observe that Sir Elton John is mentioned not once, but twice.

What does this mean? Am I gay? Am I going gay? Should my parents send my mp3 to the moon and kill my computer?

Tell you what, it doesn't mean shit. It's bullcrap. The only thing it states is that I'm listening to artists that some manic Christians somewhere consider to be... satanistic? Or gay for that part. Don't ask me how someone could proclaim among others Sir Mick Jagger or Eminem to influence homosexuality. And if they would, should we bother?

Before starting with the mainpoint, I'd also like to comment the totally horrible music video. That's the one making me sick, yes.

Sick with worry, sick with disgust. Sick with despise, sick with astonishment.

That blasted Reverend, that looks like a caricature, is more or less jumping around there plinking on his guitar and singing his foul message. I'll now give you the lyrics:

Mmmm ... yeah, yeah
(Rofl... is he moaning?)

Give me strength to fight temptation
Lord, lead me to your salvation
The Bible says as plain as day
With a man you shall not lay

Lord, you are my strength
Fill me with your love
Help me fight these feelings
Help me rise above

Lord, help them hear me and make clear my voice
'Cause being gay is nothing but a choice

God hates a fag
God hates fags
God hates fags
So if you're a fag, He hates you, too

Read the Bible and you'll be sure
To enter heaven, there's no back door
Righteous man, get on your knees
There lies no virtue in sodomy

Lord you are my shield
Sustain me through the fight
A shelter from the urges
And help me see the light

You filthy sinners should just let me be
'Cause Jesus my savior's the only man for me


Lord, you are my strength
Fill me with your love
Help me fight these feelings
Help me rise above
Lord, help them hear me and make clear my voice
'Cause being gay is nothing but a choice


Tell you what Reverend, fuck off. Just, fuck off. Go burn, jump down the Niagara Falls to feel the wind rushing through your hair, kick a bull in the nuts, try flying from Empire State Building. I honestly don't care, but I'd as sure as anything be happy if you'd earn yourself a Darwin Award for removing yourself from the planet in an utterly stupid way.

The thing that this song is implying is that if you believe in God and follow his rules, you'll have a nice time in heaven after you're dead. If you don't however, you'll burn in hell forever more. Which I think isn't really the way that most Christians believe, at least not the ones that I've met. In any case it doesn't sound as the vision of an all-loving God to me.

What is really the sin in homosexuality? That some men prefer men (to focus on the male part of homosexuality, that is the one that gets most attention after all) and thereby has anal sex by logical reasons? Simply that they're not as everyone else, but follows another way? Who knows, perhaps the Reverend got raped by a big muscular criminal sometime?

Without involving religion, homosexuality is something generally seen with sceptism in society. "Faggots", what are they really? They're humans, and nothing else. Men that likes to sleep with men and falls in love with men and women that likes to sleep with women and falls in love with women. Are they anything less worth just because of that? Are they not as much human as you and me?

What's next?

We can state the following: Male gays are seen with more sceptism than female ones, generally. Is it simply that Average Joe is afraid of the fact that they're taking it in the rump?

The fanatics says that sodomy in itself is a sin, and sodomy actually means anal sex in that case. Are all the young (and elder for that part) couples trying anal sex commiting a sin?

Is BD/SM a sin?

Is bondage a sin?

Is any sort of sex rather than a male and a female in a missionary, with both getting their orgasms at the same time, a sin?

Think about it, can we really define a sin? Of course we can't! Because we all have different interpretations of the world, and not all of us are religious.

So what can we do? We can wake up, we can simply realize that we can't judge people from what they are or aren't, but by who they are. Personality, deeds and doings. People are individuals, and shall be judged from themselves and nothing else. You can't judge someone without talking to him or her, at least not in a fair way.

Are we really so narrow that we can't accept that the person next to us doesn't get turned on the same things as ourselves?
To end, I'd like to quote two really good things that Koc said, while discussing this with me:
*When I sent him the link with the gay bands*
- Interstellar Tsar säger:
- Interstellar Tsar säger:
oh wait
- Interstellar Tsar säger:
Scissor Sisters,
- Interstellar Tsar säger:
I totally agree with that sect
- Interstellar Tsar säger:
What the fuck, The Doors?

*After having watched the music video*
- Interstellar Tsar
Sending him a mail would be fun
- Interstellar Tsar säger:
I'm a devout catholic, but when I look at the picture of David Hasslehoff (that
is hanging on my wall) I get this strange feeling. A feeling that makes me all
- Interstellar Tsar säger:
I rest my case and thank Koc for giving me a few laughters, even though I was quite pissed off by then, I'm cooling down now at least.
I hope I'm starting some kind of debate here: It sure as hell is needed. Take queries or opinions with a comment if you want to, I'll answer if needed or motivated.
Cheers, now go out in the world and love eachother!
I would also like to add that I do respect religions and religious beliefs, I however have a hard time accepting or for that part respecting when they are proclaiming against a certain group of people or encouraging violence, as well as times when it demaddnds or proclamis missionaring. /Snugglie

a kind of magic - queen

It's a kind of magic
The waiting seems eternity
The day will dawn of sanity
Is this a kind of magic?

"This song is a tribute to my medicines"... Na, not really, but that medicine against the coughing is... niiiice.

I've most likely lost my mind since I decide to stay at home and cure my illness on a day without any Science-lessons for my part. If I'd stayed home tomorrow instead I'd have missed in total 145 minutes of Biology and 75 of Chemistry, not to mention a 80 minutes long Maths-lesson in the morning.

The fact that I couldn't speak this morning was however convincing enough for me to realize that I should get some rest. The following fact that I was also sneezing, not able to breathe through my nose and at the same time coughed my intestines up didn't make it better.
Yes, I am a fucking whiner and I'll try to stop with that for now.
However, the day's been spent in glorious Ystad in either the kitchen, my room or by the telly. I started the day with going to sleep again, which was both nice and utterly well-needed. Then I've... cleaned, cleaned more, read the paper, read a book...
Ah yes, I also watched The Cider-House Rules by Lasse Hallström. Totally wonderful movie, just like every Hallström. For my part he is without doubt the best director ever from Sweden, with titles like Shipping News, Chocolat and the masterpiece What's Eating Gilbert Grape. I gotta get those movies someday. Collecting ftw.
I saw the sunset when going shopping at ICA. Some day when I'm slightly more deep I'll write something about this one of very few beautiful and good things with my hometown.
I've also spent some time putting some pics into my picture journal. I suggest you take a look:
Totally painful Tuesday tomorrow... Maths, Biology x2 and Chemistry. Lucky I have Swedish at least. And it doesn't matter as much since I'll get to see the other fellows in any case. And that's good. That's always as good.

shuffling - snugglie

Found this slightly interesting thing somewhere on the Internet. Don't ask me where, 'cause I don't think I remember. Ah well. Variation's always nice, ey?

1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. Press forward for each question.
3. Use the song title as the answer to the question even if it doesn’t make sense. NO CHEATING!
4. Tag 10 people to play this game too. (Fat chance: I've got more important things than tagging people. Just do it if you feel for it. *Feeling rebellious*)

1. How are you feeling today?
I'm Ready - Bryan Adams
This recording's horrible, I gotta try to find a better version. However, Bryan Adams in good form on his breakthrough record, good song.
2. Will you get far in life?
Soul Kitchen - The Doors
Say what? Becoming a chef?
3. How do your friends see you?
Karate - Tenacious D
Fellers... I'm not that violent, am I?
4. Will you get married?
Reign of terror - Stratovarius
Holy hell... This doesn't seem to be my day, really.
5. What is your life’s theme song?
Love Over Gold - Dire Straits
"I choose love over gold..." Wonderful song, finally some luck.
6. What is the story of your life?
Salvador - Jamie T
Weird fellow from Wimbledon that sings about women from here to Salvador. No, I don't get it.
7. What was high school like?
En av alla dom - Lars Winnerbäck
Heehee. If it's about the gymnasium, I believe that I've got some time to change it, at least?
8. How can you get ahead in life?
I'm going slightly mad - Queen
Now this is weird. I simply can't, and will be driven insane trying? Or I might getting somewhere by getting mad. Who'd notice another madman in the world anyhow?
9. What is tomorrow going to be like?
It's Only Love - Bryan Adams
More Canadian rock from his break-through album.
10. What is the best thing about your friends?
Kom ihåg mig - Lars Winnerbäck
"Den vackraste stunden i livet var den när du kom..." I like this song. Nice choice.
11. What is in store for the next weekend?
Chasing Shadows - Stratovarius
Well, last time I tried this the answer got Running from the devil by Reverend Horton Heat, this is at least slightly better.
12. What song best describes you?
Working Class Man - Jimmy Barnes
Australian rock anthem? Cool.
13. How is your life going?
Ride the river - JJ Cale & Eric Clapton
Yay, two ol' druggie-buddies that recorded an album together are singing a song about me. "Rolling down that ol' river boy... all my worries far behind." Nice.
14. What song will play at your funeral?
Grease - Frankie Valli
Hell yeah.
15. How does the world see you?
Oh, Pretty Woman - Gary Moore
... sod off.
16. Will you have a happy life?
New Year's Day - Charlie Robison
A nice country-song about the new year, about a fellow by the border. It sounds happy at least.
17. What do your friends really think of you?
You're My Best Friend - Queen
Naaw... Seems like the shuffle-god has decided to be nice to me again.
18. What song describes the person you’re attracted to?
Sweet Lady - Queen
19. What message would you like to tell the next generation?
Happy New Year - Rent
This is interesting... Kids, don't try to be actors. Get a real job!
20. Do you have a deep dark secret?
Only the Blues - Charlie Robison
Snugglie: It's getting symbolic by now, but no, I don't believe so myself.
Shuffle-god: Silence! Thou shalt think as I command and ignore thy own will!
Snugglie: Yes master.
21. Do people secretly lust after me?
Tunnel of love - Dire Straits
Haha, not that it matters too much to me...
22. How can I make myself happy?
Summer Nights - John Travolta & Olivia Newton-John
Hell yeah.
23. Will I ever have children?
Kom Hem Till Mej - Lars Winnerbäck
" kom hem till mig, gör vi nåt ihop..." ^^
24. What’s some good advice for me?
Break On Through - The Doors
Alas Jim Morrison, are you trying to say something to me? Ah well. I interpret it as "Survive IB!".
25. How will I be remembered?
Wearing the inside out - Dire Straits
Now this's interesting... x_x
26. What is my signature dance song?
Down Under - Men at Work
Yes, I really do love this song.
Traveling in a fried-out combie
On a hippie trail, head full of zombie
I met a strange lady, she made me nervous
She took me in and gave me breakfast
And she said,

Do you come from a land down under?
Where women glow and men plunder?
Cant you hear, cant you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover.

Well, that's all for me for today, I guess. I'm having my first TOK-lesson tomorrow (Theory of Knowledge that is) and then I have P.E. in the school gym. Wonderfulness. And then I'm probably going to spend the evening with dearest Ems.


ta undulaten - martin stenmarck

För jag har det bra som en man någonsin kommer att ha det
Luften är fri och jag älskar att va de men du, ge fågeln mat
Ge undulaten mat

New blog-domain, as most of you might notice. Otherwise you are either a new reader, suffering from amnesia, blind, or simply slow thinking.

Today went from a long day of hard work to a day where half of the time was spent relaxing in some way. Cancelled Spanish, no Physics for Group B, and more or less voluntarily Swedish lesson due to the lesson being spent reading Ondskan, which I'm already finished with.

What is the deal with using a whole lesson for reading anyway? I mean, people are able to read outside of school too, aren't they? Well, guess I shouldn't be so narrow-minded: most people actually don't have a 75 minute bus ride where it's most enjoyable to read a good book.

It's still cold as the Finnish version of hell.

Yes, in Finland, at least in old times, the vision of hell was a placed constantly covered in ice, cold and barren. Slight difference, and I guess it's more horrible than the inferno that we're talking about. But who knows, it might be my frozen brain talking and longing for summer.

New day tomorrow, thereby I need to be off.


telegraph road - dire straits

Then came the mines - then came the ore
then there was the hard times then there was a war
Telegraph sang a song about the world outside
telegraph road got so deep and so wide
Like a rolling river. . .

I do without much doubt consider "Telegraph Road" as one of the best songs ever made. When the guitars, the bass and the drums reach total unisonity and Mark Knopfler sings the line "telegraph sang a song about the world outside" I can't do anything but smile and enjoy a pure masterpiece, something that together with Money for Nothing and Brothers in Arms has to be considered as the magnum opus of both Knopfler himself, and Dire Straits as a band.

Our new schedule seems to be at least slightly fubar. Every second Tuesday afternoon will be nothing but painful for my poor mind... First Biology, then Chemistry, and then Biology again. I tell you, it's bleedin' silly. I don't even care about it, and then having a whole afternoon with it? Urk.

We've got snow here. And lots of it. Bloody, it's not supposed to be snow by now! Snow my Christmas equals very good, but this time a'year it's only disturbing and a slight safety risk. Not only the risk of slipping and not only humiliating but also potentially hurting yourself with the fall, but also that your walks over the weirdly shaped schoolyard of Katedralskolan might get suddenly interrupted by flying projectiles of compressed, frozen rain.

All for today, I've got English-homework to do, and a promise to myself to actually take my studies seriously from now on. Or at least try. I don't want to end up with a G. I'm sure I will get it in some subject anyway, can't tell which though...

It doesn't matter that the grades in PDP doesn't really count. I want good grades, if not else for my own sake. To actually show to myself that I'm as good as I'm supposed to be (comparing to earlier standards, that is) even if it's a completely despicable subject that I don't care about at all.

A G feels like a failure, simply. I'm not afraid of many things at all in life, but one of the things I am slightly scared of is failure. Personal failure on any level, and to in the end be nothing but a nobody, someone that simply flushed his education down the drain. And it doesn't matter if it's just a crappy Biology test, it still feels like a failure. And it will still make the slight shame burn inside my mind.

As I stated two paragraphxs ago, enough for today.


romeo and juliet - dire straits

A lovestruck Romeo sings the streets a serenade
Laying everybody low with a lovesong that he made
Finds a convenient streetlight, steps out of the shade
Says something like, "You and me babe, how about it?"

"You and me babe, how about it?"

I might have the memory of an empty glass bottle from time to time, but I'm sure that at least a few of you readers have better memory than both me and the above mentioned glass bottle.

However, it's gone a week since I stated the folliwing in my blog:

Love? I'll have you a definition in a week.

Well, I guess it's been quite a week too. Tuesdays and Wednesdays aren't really friends of mine, Tuesdays are the worst ones. Two science-lessons in a row... Hoo-fuckin'-ray. Although I also had my last Drama lesson Tuesday, I got me VG as expected. I also got a very good comment for my CAS-diary, very, very good. And she more or less said that if I'd been there since the start I could have gotten a MVG... now that's cheering one up.

Well, as I said, a week ago I stated that I'd try to have you, my readers, a definition of the most peculiar thing in the human world: love, or as in Irish, [lu:v], which at least I consider more a charming word than the usual Anglo-Saxon one.

I can only speak from my own experience.

And even though that is a new thing for me it feels just as good. One week, two weeks, what does it matter? It's the fact that I today have someone to love that is the important thing.

Can onre really define love? Can one define feelings at all? It is like getting the question of how to define a colour.
Human bering 1: "Define green!"
Human being 2: "Er... the colour of grass?"
Human being 1: "'tain't no definition, you bastard you!"

Some thing simply aren't adjusted to the vocabulary of human beings. In this case, drawings are probably better, just as well as music. But still, the pictures one paints with letters and words can come to be so much more than the ones made with ink and lead.

Love, for the first it is something that you've got to be slightly lucky to experience. A tango takes two as you're aware of, and so does love. The most tragic, suppressing and above all desperate feeling there is, is the one of unanswered love. To feel attached to a person that doesn't feel the same is like trying to climb a mountain wall drenched in soap.

When one however actually encounters it, it's all different though. First the slightly awakening interest, only to have it escalate. For a while the two gets closer to eachother mentally, and feels together even when they're not even close to each other physically. In the end, there is a fork. Either the way where the two decides to leave it be, and let it pass.

And the other way being the one where two persons looks eachother in their eyes, and rather feels than says that it's for real.

Love is to think about a person every awake hour. Love is to long for someone every minute
of sense in a crazy world. Love is to every second feel your heartbeats and thinking that it actually beats for someone.

Love is a most peculiar thing. To feel and to believe, to care and to trust. To not only think, but know, that you would do anything for that one special person that is blessing you with her love. To, when you feel her head resting on your chest knowing that nothing in this world can be horrible or dangerous enough for you not protecting her against it.

To actually raise your head towards the sky and plead to God that even though you are a sinner and a heretic, even though you are a non-believer, can't He bless the one that you love and holding His protective arm around her.

Love is the sweetest thing on Earth, and the thing that can make even a humble human in a huge world feel like a king.

I know it's corny: I was born that way.

But I at least don't know how to describe a thing like this without being, or getting.

Wonderful evening yesterday. One of the most wonderful ones.

All for me. Tomorrow school, Lund, the world.


sunday bloody sunday - u2

And its true we are immune
When fact is fiction and TV reality
And today the millions cry
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die

Yes, I choose to quote a song like this today. A somewhat melancholic, dark and sad song from another great music export from the Emerald Isle. And one can say what one please, but well; U2 has definitely reached greater success than my favourite, Gary Moore.

I actually try to have some meaning in the songs and quotes from the same that I use. To have it symbolizing something that's happened during the day, or whatever the blog post might be about, or what I'm thinking of or feeling like at the moment. Believe it or not, but I actually try to say something with these introductions. Just thought you should know. Now, back to the show.

We had Civics today for last lesson. That's nice. We actually had a smaller argument down in the basement (PDP-land), since a few people seemed to be tempted by the thought to skip Civics in order to get a long afternoon instead. Me and a few others quickly despised the thought as totally unreasonable: Civics, together with the two History-lessons a'week makes one being able to stand the horrific hours of Chemistry and Physics and slightly also Biology.

However, Civics also manage to hit my mood downwards sometimes. Not the subject itself, heck no, and it's not the same way of being down as when sitting in the back of the Chemistry classroom, trying to stay awake even because of the sound of the air-conditioner, a boring teacher and a totally dull subject. No, more the mood of "What the bloody is happening to this planet o'ours?". Some things are just too much.

Yes, some things. Examples?
  • Pictures I saw from the Vietnam War. Yes, way back in time, but still something that shouldn't ever, ever be forgotten.

  • Russia's terror in Chechnya, that's been for the gods-knows-how-long, and that doesn't seem to have an ending. And dammit, don't even try to report from it! Remember what happened to Anna Politkovskaya of the Novaya Gazeta, murdered outside of her apartment. There's something rotten in the state of Russia.

  • Iraq. Iraq, Iraq, Iraq... What where they thinking, the USA, when they invaded it? Hopefully of the oil, because if they really intended to create a permanent state of peace and calm, and revive a working and democratic state of Iraq, the fellows in the governing group's got to count as all too overambitious and obsessed with their own abilities, not to mention as a bunch of quite sorry losers. If you've got to experiment with countries, why not keep to your own?

  • The current situation in parts of Africa. After once again being reminded about the genocide in Rwanda of '94 (that by the way is portraied in the movie Hotel Rwanda, on of the best movies ever made and a movie that changed my way of looking at the world totally) and also listening to stories about Idi Amin, the psychotic dictator of Uganda that had enjoyments like feeding alive humans to crocodiles and walking into classrooms and shoot down every single pupil just for the fun of it, I'm quite desillusionated. Not to mention that nearly all of the problems in Africa (or parts of Africa, to be correct: not all of Africa has problems after all) has its roots in the aftermath of the European colonization.

  • The Gulf War, China's occupation of Tibet, the guerilla wars in Kongo, Sri Lanka, the chaotic situation in the Middle-East...

Listening or reading to this kind of things could probably make a whole lot of people to feel totally hopeless and wonder why we even try and want to keep the world in one piece. Is it really worth it? Is it worth to keep a hell-hole like this, when we can't (or at least doesn't seem to be doing) something better of it but just makes it worse?

The damn do I know, I'm just another slightly messed-up teenager trying to find his own way in life. But then again, what if the way of the reformer actually is my way? What if I should follow my instincts and go into international politics and dedicate my life in trying to make a difference for the world, trying to make at least some place a better one?

It is a thought, but nothing you really find at AMS.

I do however enjoy this Earth a whole freaking lot, and as an international citizen I of course would appreciate if people would please stop destroying my home planet. After all, we don't have that many to choose from.

Difference people. Difference. We are the generation of tomorrow (I sincerely doubt that I have any readers that are older than gymnasial age, if I would have I apologize and kindly asks you not to send Russian hitmen after me because of this o'horrible mistake) and we are the ones that can do something about a planet that's bad, and that seems to be in a quite negative trend.

I don't know what we can do, I'm not Martin Luther King or anything alike. Infact, I'm quite pale. But that's the good thing with being able to talk, and if not, to write: You can discuss it with people and compare their experiences and thoughts to you' own.

I am quite assured that we can do something if we just get somespirit into it. Y'know? Noone can do everything, but everyone can do something.

By this time I am slightly unstructured, so I believe I'll return to the subject when I'm more awake some time.


more than i can say - leo sayers

Wow wow yea yea
I love you more than I can say
I'll love you twice as much tomorrow
Oh love you more than I can say

Okay, now I'm finished whining, at least for a short while.

Thereby I'd like to point out that me and Ems celebrated one week yesterday. Now that week truly went fast.

One week and I'm still feeling dizzy. I'm just another confused teenager without any knowledge about what life really is or anything, and I can't define love. But what I do know is that I feel for you as I have never felt for anyone before.

Did my heart love till now? Forswear it sight, For I ne'er saw true beauty 'till this night. -Romeo, Romeo and Juliet.

I love you.

nothing to lose - gary moore

You never stop for a red light
You never even try
You're on the wrong side of midnight
Too fast to live, but too young to die

Ah. Gary Moore, guitar riffs, a voice of one of the greatest artists ever to get from the Emerald Isle out in the big, dangerous world. He's a good company after returning from one of those days that just seem to start in order to end again.

You know the feeling, some days you wish you never got out of bed. Just lying there slightly dead to start with, feeling incredibly tired and definitely not wanting to go out in the cold, get the bike and then get fast as hell to the bus stop in order to not miss the bus and thereby be an hour late too school. No, commuting ain't fun and never will be, I knew that when I started and I know that the shite will continue as long as I want to get into town at all. And since I do want that, the Line 6 it is.

It's these afternoons you know. A few times going to the café after school, but apart from that it's the Line 6 home, eating, some time on MSN and then sleep. Only to repeat the procedure of waking up and being in a hurry to the bus next morning.

Yes, I lack discipline. And yes, I lack good things to spend my casual time with, apart from when I get to see the others. That is incredibly nice, and is one of those things that lights up the whole week.

But the rest of it, the rest! It gets so incredibly dull so incredibly fast nowadays. I don't have any activities or anything, I only stay at home to chat, sleep and eat. Which lowers my mood even when in school, since it's nothing I'm that happy with.

I can't move, I've more or less accepted that. What else can I do? It can't really come up to question 'til I'm 18 at least, and there's the end of that discussion.

When others do things in the afternoons, different activities, going downtown with someone to eat in town on the evening, hanging out for a whole afternoon with people, spending time with the ones love...

When others do that I board the Line 6 to get home and to once again get locked into my own sphere of non-happening.

Yes, I am a total whiner for the moment. One of those days you know... Luckily people seem to stand me anyway. That's nice.


sailing to philadelphia - mark knopfler

Come up and feel the sun
A new morning has begun
Another day will make it clear
Why your stars should guide us here...

I hate Sundays. Always have, prolly always will. It's so totally dull usally.

Not that dull today though, we've had one heck of a storm here. Up to 39 m/s out on Österlen from what I've heard. Now is that fubar? Totally. Although extreme weather rocks, noone can deny that. Spices up this place of non-happening a little, huzzah!

The thing that blows though is that it means that I couldn't meet Ems as decided. Alright, I would find whatever god is responsible for the weather, kick his nuts and demand a weather change for the better, but I can't find the bastard in the yellow pages. And well, even if I think that I could go to Lund, Skånetrafiken doesn't really seem to conclude.

This morning I decided that I during some part of the day would go to ICA, buy loads of candy and drinks, and then park myself in front of the telly in order to watch The Aviator. Guess what? I didn't. Why? Well, ICA has more or less been blowing away, these winds are mental...

Ain't it interesting, what a connection yet barrier a language can be? The connection if it's a lingua franca, uniting the world under one tongue, or a barrier if you don't understand it. Example:

I've downloaded a few Hungarian songs lately, inspired after I heard the song "Girl With Pearl Hair" (something totally different in Hungarian, of curse...) by Hungarian progg-band Omega. So I found some songs by a fellow called Egészséges Fejbõr (pronounciation? You've got to be kidding me), one called "Attila" and one called "Oh Magyarország". Now, I don't know much Hungarian, but Magyarország means "Hungary" anyway. Nice, melodic songs, one of'em was from a concert where a whole lot of people sang in choir...

After some research it turned out that it was Hungarian skinhead-music. So much for international understanding.

For something completely different: Love? I'll have a definition for you in a week.


Post scriptum: Here's the toga-pic. Enjoy.

salvador - jamie t

From here to Salvador,
the ladies dance
To fill us reckless
sons with passions of the heart

This week has been tough, truly. Just take Wednesday: Six lessons, and homework for five of them. get what I mean? And Thursday evening I was writing my CAS-diary until 2300 hours, can't believe how I manage to just shovel things for the future all the time. It is nothing but imbecil and ruins my sleeping habits, which are fubar enough as it is. I need my eight hours a'night, otherwise I'm totally screwed the day after (that being if I do not take a bit amount of painkillers in the morning, which might have me confused with a junkie).

As you might notice I survived the week though. Otherwise I wouldn't be writing these very words on this very computer of mine, lost in the world of Jimi Hendrix (referring to the music that is, not the pills) and a British fellow fron Wimbledon by the name of Jamie Taluay, alias Jamie T.

This day has been spent cleaning, almost all the time and is thereby to be regarded as totally useless and despicable, and is now to be forgotten as soon as possible. I hate cleaning... But since I don't have anything else to do on a totally usual Saturday, I tolerate it.

Yesterday though, was very fun!

We, the drama-group, finally performed our play down in the basement: A play called "Who the F***uck is Snow White?", a parody of the well-known fairytale of "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" that all of you probably, and sadly have heard about. We pulled it off actually, to my slight surprise. And not just that: I think we pulled it off quite good too! At least our crowd, on averagely 15 persons, were laughing. But I've promised myself one thing now, next time I get to edit the script I'll add real lines for myself, and not just improvise...

The drama theme continued, since the class were going to some kind of repetition of Riksteatern ona a play they are going to perform, The Maids by the classical French writer and dramatic Jean Genet. It was above all too strange to be expressed in words. Frenchmen will be Frenchmen, and have always been.

Since the theatre sort of... hrrm, took a long time, we got slightly delayed and thereby me, Arthur, Koc and Ems went for a walk in a Lund that seemed to have caught the spirit of the Spring, instead of going to language that we'd only have time for a very short while in any case. That was very nice, it seemed as if the gods had decided to show mercy to the poor town for the short while and let it and its inhabitants taste the sun and watch the blue sky again, if so only for a brief moment.

Only two lessons were left of the day, History and Biology. Now, History is and will always be fun, at least in my opinion. We're for the moment discussing the Industrial Revolution, and well, let's put it like this: We've got that kind of teacher that, when ten minutes are left of the lesson, asks:
Stefan: "So, Questions?"
*Noone raising their hand*
Stefan: "Okay, let's end for today then.*

And it is like that for almost every lesson. That's way better than when our Spanish teacher states that oh, there's two minutes left of the lesson so let's go through the text again! Baah...

I also once again survived the dullness of Biology, that we had for the last lesson. DNA, or for the moment RNA. Hurray? I understand it, but still not. It feels like knowing a bunch of Greek phrases by heart, without knowing what it means. I was not made for being a natural scientist...

And then a schoolweek of horrid workload was finally over! The PDP students fled the school fast, with a few exceptions that were going to Alex' place for the evening in order to have a movie night. Since she from the performance in the morning had props enough to put up Hamlet twice and a third of King Lear, Alex got a ride home. So thereby we helped carrying her stuff out from the school first, and then after shopping candy and crisps (with me paying) we took the bus to the bus stop by Gilleskroken and then walked the remaining 30 metres to Alex' place.

A few more joined in later, and in the end we were 12 persons: Me, David, Ems, Emma, Alex, Vix, Harald, Mengxian, Isabella, Koc, Arthur and Araneya. Food for the evening was, to noones surprise nor discontent, pizza. After eating pizza we, *surprise surprise* started watching the movie after having played a slightly weird game. the point of the game was that everyone sits in a circle except for one poor fellow that is in the middle. This fellow-in-the-middle is supposed to approach random person sitting in the ring and say the phrase "I love you baby, won't you smile for me?" in more or less any way \s\he wants to, as long as \s\he doesn't touch the victim. The victim is then supposed to answer "I love you baby, but I just can't smile", without laughing. If the victim laughs, the bastard is going into the middle.

Intellectual, innit? Well, anyways: The movie we watched was "Without a paddle". It involved Seth Green, Matthew Lillard, another main character with a weird name, a marijuana field, a Billy Bob Thornton with a beard and two fat pot-farmers that at one point stated that "The hills have gone gay". It also involved two beautiful, women with hairy legs. It was slightly over average, not bad but not that good either.

Other activities for the evening was playing truth or dare, spinning in the rain (and stepping in big water puddles), me and Arthur dressing up in togas of purple blankets (Alex dressed up in one too) and Koc managed to make a hat out of one of the blankets, and thereafter claim that he was from the Ottoman Empire. There was a pic taken of us three, I'll post it when I get hold of it.

Everything that have a beginning has an end though, which is quite logic. Harald and Vix left first, and then Ems left. After following her out and giving her a goodnight-kiss I together with Mengan, Isabella, Koc, Arthur, and Emma more or less ran to the bus to catch it, with David and Alex running after us in order to get to say goodbye. Now that must've been a sight.

We took the bus, slplit up more while we got of the bus, and more or less went in one direction each. The last one I said good-bye to was Koc when he got of the train in Burlöv, I logically stayed all the way to Malmö, and from there I went to Ystad. And then I walked through half friggin' town, and biked through the rest...

One heck of a day, I believe. Got to love it.


howl in the jungle - the mo

When things are boring me
I recall a melody
To howl in the jungle

Wednesdays are painful. Painful in that slowly chewing way that sends you home mentally exhausted.

Know what some people told me many months ago?
"Don't change to IB! You won't have any life left at all."

Well, I do qualify as IB-damaged since I spent half the night reading homeworks in bed instead of sleeping. Well, homework and messaging, which still counts. No matter how many lessons we have though, I've still got a whole lot more and funnier things to do (hey, I have got funny things at all to do) on the little spare time I've got left. Irony of fate? I truly believe so.

Well, I've gotten a few comments about the last blog post... And no, I don't intend to keep it secret, so I can without any problems actually confirm that me and Ems now are together. And does it feel good? Good is too small a word. I feel happier than ever, at a frequency I though was impossible after the wonderful New Years Eve.

I'm happy that I've got you.

Well, today was slightly painful as mentioned. Six lessons, and homework to five of these. I skipped out on the volunteerly math test in Geometry though, didn't see any reason in doing it, getting a bad grade, and getting down because of that. So thereby: Screw that.

This commuting bullshit is also getting annoying. Other people do things on the afternoons: I sit on the bus.

Well, guess it's me and Araneya that are doomed to the fate of the commuter. [Insert curse of own choice here]!

Movie night on Friday, more or less as usual. Totally wonderful, also that as usual!

We've got two new guys in the class now. One of them happens to be from England. He's an Arsenal supporter, but he seems nice anyway. The Swaziland guy still hasn't arrived though.

Argh, I need a café-visit. Soon.


africa - toto

I hear the drums echoing tonight
But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation
She's coming in twelve-thirty flight
Her moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards
I stopped an old man along the way
Hoping to find some old forgotten words or ancient melodies
He turned to me as if to say: "Hurry boy, it's waiting there for

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do
I bless the rains down in Africa,
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

The wild dogs cry out in the night
As they grow restless longing for some solitary company
I know that I must do what's right
Sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti
I seek to cure what's deep inside, frightened of this thing that
I've become

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do
I bless the rains down in Africa,
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

Hurry boy, she's waiting there for you

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do
I bless the rains down in Africa,
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

I will never forget this day for the rest of the time I walk the Earth.

Cheers is too small a word.

hold on to love - gary moore

You know you've got to
Hold on to love
If you wanna learn to forget your sorrow.
You've got to
Hold on to love
Like there's no tomorrow.

There are two things I'm not sure I'll ever be able to realize how I managed to live without. The first one is of course the tentacles, and the other thing is the deep guitar riffs and lyrics of Gary Moore, the musical Cicero of Belfast.

Nuclear Attack.
Victims of the future.
Wild Frontier.
Out in the fields.
Over the hills and far away.
Run for cover.
Hold on to love.
Johnny Boy.
Murder in the skies.
The Prophet.
Military Man.
Don't Take Me For a Loser.
End of the World.
After the war.

If you're a reader of this blog, you are here by required to get the above mentioned songs, listen, save and enjoy yourself in soulful guitarmusic together with a whole lot of anti-war messages.

You are never alone with friends and/or a boombox.

I'd like to thank my readers for the comments of my last blog post, the one where I more or less summaried the passed year of mine. A writer's work can never improvise without any sort of criticism, and let's put it like this: Reminders that one has got the finest friends there is, that is one hell of a motivation. Thank you.

This day will br spent with writing the short story for Swedish, and also changing the look of the blog. So if you'd try to read my blog during the day, and it just looks totally fubar, it's just me experimenting with the blog functions. Savvy?

I'd also like to add that the New Years story of mine (my last blog post, for the ones that didn't understand that completely) will be moved backwards in the blog to the following time: 00:01 1/1 2007. I like the symbolism of that, pardon me for the worldwide confusion this movement will create.


happy new year! - rent, the summary of the past year.

I Think I Should Be Laughing
Yet I Forget
Forget How To Begin

I'm Feeling Something Inside
And Yet I Still Can't Decide If I Should Hide
Or Make A Wide Open Grin

Last Week I Wanted Just To Disappear
My Life Was Dust
But Now It Just May Be A Happy New Year
A Happy New Year

Songs really speak to you sometimes, don't they? Almost as if you're whole life was able to be told on a three-minute record, from which you might learn more than you've ever learned in school. A solemn hymn, as sent from above to teach you something that you should have known, or need to know for your future. Music is truly the words of the undefined, almighty Power. Or a thing that's meant to tell you a story, and to think.

The year of 2006, Anno Domini, is on the agenda for now. Another year in the story of our Earth has been told, another year that has changed it to both the better and worse. A year of deaths, but also births, and in the same way sadness and grief, and happiness and joy.

The past year has, for my part at least, been a year of great changes. When the year started I was in 9th grade, I had just weeks before been to a once-in-a-lifetime experience after becoming regional champion in DN:s Nutidsorientering, I was me, and noone else. Just as it had always been, me walking alone in a crusade against the world and enjoying every step as an underdog. Facing a year that would end a soon-to-be ten year long fight to keep up inspiration in a hopeless institution of learning, finally an end to the school-time where I felt underrated even though I was closing in on top grades and unstimulated since some things were so basic that I almost laughed at them in disgust.

Yes, when 2006 started I was 15, I celebrated the New Year laughing in front of the computer, I was walking the road of life alone, I was proud and I was as sure of my capacity as anything. I was a king in my own universe, and was happy with the way everything was.

School began once again after the holidays, and everything went back to normal after a as usual totally relaxed holiday. And then school continued, in the slaw slow walk as every year before. We were closing in on our final grades though, something that stirred up panic among big parts of the ninth-graders. I didn't freak out too much about it, I felt confident and knew that I would get good grades. My only goal was to get my MVG in Maths, a goal that I also managed to fullfill.

Snow came and disappeared, and then came again. Sometime in the beginning of April it finally disappeared for real and made way for the coming spring. And so the world got greener, and in May the green covering was interrupted by coloured spots were the flowers grew. Summer was here once again, another time full of sun, beach and promises. The graduation party for the ninthgraders of Västervångskolan in Ystad was held at Öja Krog, an evening of celebration, talking to eachother, comparing grades, and saying good-bye. And as chairman of the students council I held a speech, that seemed to be at least somewhat appreciated.

The evening was nice, and when the final hour as ninth-graders was a'coming the tears joined in for the final moments. Tha last good-bye, the ultimate end. At midnight, when it ended, almost everyone's eyes were coloured red by the tears and practically everyone had spilled at least one tear. I however stood there with my eyes as dry as they can be without being unhealthy. I didn't cry, I didn't feel need nor motivation for it.

I believed that I would get depressed and long for the ol' lost times of Västran a little later in the summer, but it took me a few weeks to realize that it wasn't coming. I did miss my old school and me olf mates in one way, but apparently not enough to shed any tears at all. So I didn't, and kept on with my life.

The summer started with the same lazy way as always, a time for sleeping and staying up late just because. Long summer nights with the sun a'knowledging the existence of our Northern country. The whole world in bloom, and not a cloud to be seen.

I spent the first one and a half month of the holiday hanging out with people. On Midsummer's Eve me and my family escaped the country to celebrate on our own in Copenhagen, but practically all of the remaining time of the holiday (except for one trip to Gothenburg and a long sightseeing on Österlen) was spent at home. Me and my father had decided that we were going to fix our garage drive this summer, and this was the reason that we didn't have any money to do long travels.

So at first my days was spent with digging, digging and more digging. Apart from the digging, I started going to the gym, spent time with some people down by the beach, dug some more, and stopped going to the gym.

Somewhere in the middle of the summer something made me think about my situation. The company I had for the days wasn't a company that I really longed for nor appreciated that much, and for every day that passed I found more reasons not to stay in that situation. So one night with the stars as my only company I stated that well, the world does not have to change because of my situation, but I sure as hell didn't see any reason to change because of my situation. I knew somewhat who I was, I would not get to be a noone among everyone else, without any will of my own but a slave of trends. I was me, and intended to keep on with that.

The side-effect of this was loneliness. The people I used to hang out with in the beginning of the summer were the only ones, or at least so I presume. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't change the fact. I was alone, and so had been for a long time without caring nor knowing about it myself. That typical guy down the corridor, the one everyone knows about and the one that's talked to practically everyone. The one that looks to stay out of unnecessary conflicts, a smart-ass in both its positive and negative ways. A person that very many people say that they know, but that noone knows for real.

I believe I was somewhat responsible for that situation myself. During my years in town I never really tried to establish any contact with people, I enjoyed being alone. I told myself that quite a lot, but it didn't really help me any in the situation I was.

Hour after hour, day after day was spent at home. I had work to do in the mornings with moving bricks for the garage drive, and when I was finished with that I went in again. Eventually we ran out of bricks and the garage drive was all of a sudden finished, and in a flash I lost my only real reason to go outside. So I stayed inside, with curtains down and my computer as the only source of light. I spent the time alone, and kept it in that way since I was incapable to change it for the better. I was alone.

That half of the summer was like one big black fog, with every day alike the other and the only difference being what I wrote and didn't write on an Internet forum where I spent almost all of my time. I was bored to death, and all this time of course made me think a lot over my situation.

The slight feeling of being depressed was inevitable. In one single hit it felt like the world had punched me down from my pillar of power, and crushed the self esteemed and confident person I was. What use do you have from knowing a lot of things, if you are without any company, and without people really caring, or perhaps noticing? The ones that asked got my answer, no, I don't feel too good. The ones that didn't ask didn't get any chance to hear what I was up too.

I didn't cry. I stated that it was soon to come anyway.

I spent 27 days without leaving the house, without going outside. The only fresh air I got was from my only slightly opened window. The world outside was full of people having the time of their lives, and I didn't feel for watching peolpe living while I felt... dead.

In my time of misery I had the luck of meeting a person over the internet though. A girl, whom I started talking to via the Internet forum I mentioned earlier. And all of a sudden I got not just deep and true sympathy, I had a person that made serious tries to help me. It was her existence, the hope of talking to her, if so only for a few minutes, that kept me from staying in bed all day, hating and staring in to a wall.

Loving her for existing.
But hating my life for being without any happening or meaning.
Hating myself for being unable to do anything.
Hating the world for not understanding or caring.

I didn't cry. I just stated that I was falling, and kept on falling.

I had three small glimpses of light during this period, which was more or less the closest I've ever come to breaking down totally. One was this girl that I met now, and talked to everyday. The second was another girl, that I'd met on the internet long before and sadly lost much touch with, a contact that I desperately tried keeping alive. And the third being the gymnasium coming closer by the minute. A world where I'd finally get the stimulation I wanted and so much needed a place where I could find new people and those friends that I so desperately longed for.

For each day that passed I fell deeper ito the black pit, and got more and more turned inside-out. I had problems appreciating anything, and I felt like shit constantly. What can you otherwise be defined as if noone feels any need to pull you up when falling? That was what I thought, and still today I haven't forgotten the feeling. I will never forget the total hopelessness that I felt hour after hour. Day after day.

I didn't cry. I tried desperately to stay over the water surface.

On the 22nd of August, the gymnasium finally started. My hope was now somewhat restored, if one that's lost all illusions can hope, and perhaps now, perhaps now I would come back to life from my walk in the valley of the eternal shadow. It was raining, pouring down, the first day. And perhaps that was a worse omen than I thought of at first.

The first day I was positive. After a week I still hoped. When two weeks had gone, I was there again, spending all of my free time by the computer. Skipping out of lessons since I couldn't be bothered. Lying awake night after night and once again feeling the loneliness tearing my heart out to barbeque it in front of my eyes.

I didn't cry. I felt too hopeless too.

It wasn't only the fact that I still couldn't find that close friend I so much needed, someone to lean on to when storms were coming and someone to be able to call in the middle of the night that still would help you with whatever your problem might be. Nor the lack of company outside of school.

No, because at Samhällsprogrammet at Österportskolan, I couldn't even rely on what I'd always turned to to get support and clear my thoughts with: The studies and the will to know more. I didn't develop in any way, lessons started to get repetitive, and the only thing I could do was to watch my last outpost fall apart. It wasn't at all what I'd hoped for, and now I surely felt like the last strike from above smighted down in my life. I was doomed to fall in decline.

But through all this, the constant was that girl I met on the forum. She didn't desert me even though I didn't do anything but whine, she stayed. She didn't get silent when I stated that everything's a hell, she wanted to help me out of it. And when I stated that my school was a place that I didn't even want to go to in the mornings, she eventually asked me why I did. Why I did go there, to a place that didn't just make me feel bad, but upheld the feeling and strengthened it.

When she said that, only to log out a few minutes later to go to sleep, a seed was planted in my brain. I realized that I had to do something. So the next day I contacted another school in another town, with a special sort of program that still doesn't exist in my hometown: IB. Said to be challenging, and told to be prestigeous. I had the phone in front of me, but just couldn't dial the number. Was this the right thing? Was I on track of something? Or would I fail totally, what if I didn't get in there and what if, what if my situation didn't get any better at all?

It took me half an hour before I dialed the number. And I got the answer I sadly expected: it was full, not place for anyone more. However, the coordinator added, there was a person there that was doubtful about continuing there and thought of changing. So we decided to stay in touch.

The next day she called back, and the doubtful person had moved in the right direction. There was a vacant spot.

All of a sudden I felt something that I barely recognized after a long period of feeling like shit under a horse's hoof. I felt encouraged. I had a way out, and I had to seize it. I was convinced that I would not be able to hand three years like this. For the first time in months, I felt hope.

She called on a Thursday, and on the Tuesday me and my parents got into the school to talk it through, and so that I could do the application tests, one in English and one in Maths. I sat there alone, in a room with a big window through which I had the sun dancing through, and a for me totally different world to be seen.

I did the English without any problems. Maths have however never been a strong subject of mine. And after doing the tests I would have to wait until the following Monday to get a definite answer whether I got in or not. Sure, I got the results of the test that week. On the Friday, in school when I checked my mailbox as on every break, I saw that there was a mail from the school. I went totally cold, my blood froze and my brain felt like it ran out of oxygen. Before I thinked about it anymore, and thereby probably would freak out, I opened the mail.

I passed.

I passed.

I fucking passed the tests.

Which meant that there was only a formality left before I could start there. I was more chocked than happy, I breathed heavily and laughed a little every now and then. I informed a few people that I managed it, the ones that I cared about. The other ones would hear sooner or later, but it didn't feel that important for me. I felt like screaming, and telling the world that I was back. I got up on nine, and had a chance again. We got out of school early, and I was almost levitating: I also messaged that friend of mine, the one that for so many lonely moments had felt like my only friend in the world. And I got a happy answer back from her. I smiled, and thought that words, these simple words of man cannot describe you my friend. You saved me.

I didn't cry. I was flying.

On the Monday I got the definite answer: You're in. After getting to know that, I did scream. The remainder of the day was spent with cleaning out my locker, and saying goodbye to what had been my world for the last months, and also in one way what had been my home for seven years.

The next day I all of a sudden stood there, after getting of the bus. On a square in a city that I had only visited two times before, and only had a vague idea where I was going. By a pure wonder I found my way to the school, and a few minutes later the coordinator introduced me to the class. And then she left, and there I was. I sat down in the back of the classroom, watched the faces of people talking to eachother, trying to figure out how they were as persons. During the lesson one guy that happened to walk past introduced himself, but other than that, I didn't really speak to anyone during the lesson.

When the first lesson was over, my first lesson in my new town and on my new school, in this new world of mine, I intended to just follow the crowd to the next classroom and don't really make it such a big deal that I existed. Then, when I had packed down the things in my back and turned towards the door, there stood a few girls in front of me, looking at me smiling.
Unknown girls in choir: Do YOU like cheese?

I of course didn't understand a thing, but they were laughing so I tried with a smile. I walked to the other classroom talking to two girls, that informed me that we were about to have a test in Swedish for the next lesson. When I said that well, no chance for me to participate in that since I haven't studied, they just laughed and said that nearly noone had studied more than on the maths lesson. I smiled once again, and kept walking.

The rest of the day is one big blur of faces and impressions and thoughts. This was really an all different world.

The day after I started we had a D-day, as in "disponibel dag", which meant that we were free. I spent a day of reflecting upon my new situation, trying not to be too hopeful and thereby maybe get very disappointed. The higher you climb, the harder the fall as you know.

The week after I had however started to hang out with some persons, six to the number and with me seven. One day downtown, and one movienight and all of a sudden I had been more social than during two moths at ÖP.

My life kept on in the same way, I actually learnt things in school and people got me into the class so fast that I was amazed. Not even tests got my mood down, and more and more time outside of school was spent with people. One movienight a week, at least, and the way I really noticed the change: People actually contacted me, without me contacting them first for the day. I didn't have to hunt a person through the whole town to have someone to hang out with. It was a totally new experience for me, to have friends.

And so the time kept on going, and we entered December. I had now been to the school for a while, and was feeling at least somewhat as home in this new town of mine. Every casual day I went up at 5:30 in the morning, to get breakfast and get ready. This followed with a 75 minute busride into town. It felt worth it, I felt that it counted. In difference for the mornings at the last school, when I sometimes just wanted to stay in bed with the tears close and wondering were my life went and where the rest of it was going. I felt motivated, I was happy.

After a december with movie nights, café visits and a for my part totally ruined economy, we gathered at a friends place ar New Years Eve to celebrate the end of the old year and the beginning of a new. We had now for some reason started to call our little society of seven people the Tentacles. The story behind that is long and entertaining, and won't be told by a humble blogger. We called ourselves that however, the seven tentacles. Two boys, and five gals.

Sometime in the afternoon we, the guys where kicked out to do some shopping while the girls were going to change. We had time to get to the store, state that it was closed, go to another store instead, get home, make chocolate pudding, talking a little to the girls on the phone, watching half of Rain Man and the Danish queen's New Years Eve speech before they were finished. They hid, we went upstairs to change, and a little while later we met them downstairs. They were beautiful, all of them, as angels sent from heaven to please a dying man's eyes in his last moment. And then, the celebrations began. We ate good food, talked, laughed, and an hour before midnight we got out to watch fireworks and light our own.

Sadly, some angry weather-god had placed a whole lot of clouds over the town for this evening, and thereby we couldn't see the presumed inferno over the rest of the town. We watched our own, and the ones from the surrounding blocks, and that felt enough in one way. When the clock closed on to midnight, we held up our glasses and counted down.
Five, four, three, two, one...
Happy New Year.

The last phrase was then repeated multiple times with escalating power and happiness. A new year was here.

Since everyone sadly couldn't stay the night, we were six left. For the celebrations we had been eight people, since one of the girls brought her boyfriend which in one way also is a part of the tentacles. More a remote one though, but still a part.

As stated, we were six left. We spent the night with watching two movies, and no meaningless Hollywood-movies with an embarassing attempt to comedic undertone, but two quite sad movies. Two movies that were, and are, incredibly good though.

When the second movie was finished and we figured that we wouldn't stay awake through another one. We also figured that we didn't have energy nor will to go upstairs, we would stay in front of the TV. So we slept three persons in a couch, me one of them, one person slept in a chair and the remaining two on a matress on the floor.

We were all tired, and one by one we fell asleep. We talked for quite a while though, me leaning on the girl beside me. She was more tired than me though, and thereby she soon leaned more on me than me on her.

Averagely one hour after we finished the last movie everyone was more or less asleep. The girls next to me was sleeping with her head on my chest, right by my heart. And me with my arms around her, and my hand holding hers. It started getting light outside, the sun was trying to penetrate the blanket of clouds. I raised my head a little, and stroked her hair. I thought about all that I'd experienced the year of 2006, and where it had taken me. I looked down on her face. I squeezed her hand a little harder.I watched the people sleeping around me. I once again looked at the sun, or the place where I assumed that it were. I felt happy, once again.

I cried. And I smiled.

auld lang syne - billy joel

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,
And surely I'll be mine,
And we'll take a cup o kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

We twa have run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine,
But we've wander'd monie a weary fit,
Sin auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin auld lang syne.

And there's a hand my trusty fiere,
And gie's a hand o thine,
And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught,
For auld lang syne

Auld lang syne... ain't it wonderful? An old Scottish hymn that's usually played and sung on New Years Eve, the last day of the year. Auld lang syne is, logically, scottish and means "times gone by". It's a song about old friendship and times lost, a song that longs to unite the past and the present. It's also a very beautiful hymn, if anyone would ask me which noone ever does of course, so it's no real point in pointing that out.

We've now entered another year, the year of 2007 Anno Domini, after the birth of the Christ. December is a wonderful month, with first Christmas-celebrations and then New Years', although my last New Years Eves haven't been too cheerful or fun in any way. The last two has been spent alone in front of the computer, and the one before that with me cousins in front of the gaming-console. Yay, hooray and Messiah-knows-what. This time it would be different though, since I was going to meet up with the others at Alex place!

Our plans of a celebrtion of the end of the old year and the beginning of the new were close to fall before the finish line though, since Alex got I'll this Saturday. Which equals: not good of course, since we were going to be at her place. And also, noone is left behind.

However, the gods had mercy and made her at least somewhat healthy 'til New Years Eve yesterday, Sunday. So p'haps that not too serious praying I did to a bunch of Hindi and Aztek-gods worked. Who knows? Noone, and it's probably for the better in that way. Don't mess with the upper Ones.

Well, we met at Alex' palce around 14:00, and since we were early me father drove me and the family for a smaller sightseeing around Lund, through Professorsstaden, LTH, etc. ANd then he dropped me off at Alex' place.

When all of the others had arrived, except for Harald and Vix that would come around 19:00, we started with cooking the food for the evening: Potatoes au gratine and chicken. SInce the potatoes were already finished, we just had to fix chicken, and also shrimp-sandwiches for starters. This was made without anyone getting hurt or even being close to losing any limbs, which of course is good and from my experience quite rare.

After finishing cooking me and David were literally kicked out, since the girls now were going to get ready for the evening. Make-up, hairdo, dresses, Antichrist-knows-what. So we were sent to Fäladstorget to get milk and more crisps and stuff for the evening. Somehow we managed to get lost (not really, we had a slight idea where we were) and it eventually turned out that the road we took was averagely 10 times longer than the shortest way. Now that's stupid.

The stupider it got, when it turned out that both ICA and Coop were closed. First we stood there like question marks, and then David showed a flash of the IB-spirit:
David: Ah! It's New Years Eve today, that's why.
Snugglie: Noooooooooo?

They were closed however, so we went to some weird videostore there instead, which was owned by an arabic guy that looked like he was called Hassan. Thereby, I named him Hassan and the store Hassan's Livs, all in the glorious name of exploration and colonization.

We found our way back to Alex place without getting lost or walking unnecessarily long roads to get there. Our mission now, while the girls still were getting ready, we, the men but also the fanatical candy eaters, were supposed to do chocolate pudding. Somehow we actually managed to pull it off without killing ourselves or anyone else for that part, and it later turned out that it was eatable too. That's comforting, and shows that we aren't totally useless.

The girls still weren't ready, so we watched TV. It turned out that it was a hockey-game in the Junior World Championships between Sweden and USA, something we tried to find (it was on SVT24) but we were via phone ordered to stop messing with the controllers and so we had to be happy with SVT1, SVT2, TV4, DR1 and DR2. So we watched half of Rain Man and a major part of the Danish queen's New Years Eve-speech.

And then, two hours after they kicked us out from the house, the girls were ready. So they called us, and had us walk up to Alex' room and close the door so that we could change. In the mean time, the girls hid in the bathroom so that we wouldn't see them. There are probably things in the archives of SÄPO that's got less security around them.

After 10-15 minutes the girls started shouting from downstairs that we should hurry up. See the paradox? Well, if you're a man you can understand that we just shook our head at this. Anyhow, we were finished in about 20 minute (one sixth of the time the girls took) and got down. I've got to give an homage to the girls, they looked really beautiful. Guess those two hours made the result. At this time Vix and Harald had come too, and so we started eating.

We had the starters first. I hope everyone understood that before I told you, otherwise I'm afraid I'll get a bit worried. Drink for this was Pommac, and we had Harald opening it and being the waiter. More or less immediately after finishing eating we turned on the telly in order to watch Blackadder: Back & Forth, high-class British humour. Then we had a small time of catching our breath, and then it was once again time to eat.

The potatoes and the chicken were good, and so was the Peach champagne that was served, once again with Harald as opener and waiter. After finishing eating, although that took a while, the camera awakened and loads of pictures were taken. Group pictures, portrait pictures, totally random pictures, and almost every picture involving some weird detail. If not the face expression of David or the impossible-to-catch-serious-with-a-camera Harald, it was probably me drinking. It seemed to be a lot of pictures with me drinking, or at least looking as the retarded hillbilly cousin with potential drinking and gambling problems. Very well:

Next telly-stop was Grevinnan och betjänten, the typical Sweidsh New Years Eve-traditional. Not funnier nor less funny than any other year, I dare to claim! When this short TV-happening was over we ate the dessert, chocolate pudding. And noone died or got any emergency symptoms of food posioning, which is a good review! And when having eaten a lot, more was to come because now the candy was brought forward, mostly chocolate if I remember it correctly. I didn't eat any though, by the simple and pure reason that I felt like an overloaded barrel of beer, soon to burst.

After a seemingly long while of eating, talking about different things and discussing the sad fact that Vix and Harald couldnt stay the night, Emma's mom Cathy arrived with the fireworks. She had also brought Emma's brother, Akiva, that seemed to like those fireworks an awful lot. Harald also liked fireworks, and had brought a few of his own: on of these accidently went t'wards Alex house, which provided some excitement for the evening! Vix and Harald left with a taxicab at averagely 23:40, sadly.

New Years Eve is supposed to be when the sky is coloured in all those shades that can't be found in a for three seasons totally gray country, today however, it was so cloudy that we only could see our own fireworks and the ones in the surrounding blocks. Which was enough I guess, it looked nice. On this point the manic parts of Ystad were I live actually beats the big city of Lund: In Ystad they start at 20:30 and keep on 'til 01:00, no exceptions. And it is a lot.

But alas, still: What is the better? To watch not all too many fireworks with friends of yours, or wandering around in Ystad as the only sober person and watching almost stupidly many explosives? I won't give you the answer, try making an opinion of your one. Everything in live ain't, after all, about blowing stuff up.

Midnight got closer by the second (of course, since time works in Lund in the same way as the rest of the world and is adjusted after Greenwich Mean Time +1 just like the rest of Sweden) and we got the drink that we saved for 00:00: The strawberry wine. Incredibly sweet, but still very good. And with that our year of 2007 started. Before walking in again we blew up some sort of wooden box full with different rockets. Not sure if the box ought to catch fire though...

When Cathy and Akiva then went, home the remaining six of us started with a smaller movie festival, starting with Phantom of the Opera, based on Andrew Lloyd Webber's Broadway version. Very good movie, and I stated somewhere in my mind that this kind of stories ain't made anymore. It was a masterpiece in the moment it was written, and still remains.

After watching the fate of the tragic demon that terrorized the operahouse in Paris, we changed subject from tragic to even more tragic: Titanic, 11 Oscars and a water-combed Leonardo di Caprio in the leading role. There are things with that movie that doesn't work for my sometimes too critic sense of mind. That love story between rich girl/poor boy is nothing I fall for, nor get touched of.

And now you, my readers, state that I am a loon! How can one not get touched by Titanic? Well, I do get that, but not by a Hollywoodisch love-story. No:
A woman singing her children to sleep with a tale of the land of eternal youth and beauty. An old couple that know there time is over, and that lies in a bed close to eachother just waiting for the end. A preacher, giving the words of his Lord in order to give people some last hope of salvation before they're drawn down into the freezing ocean. A father, leaving his daughter in a lifeboat with the words "It's only a short good-bye, luv." Those are things that makes me cry.

And then after finishing Titanic we sat there in couches and chairs, me, David, Alex, Emma, Ems and Mengan. Everybody being quite tired, and thereby deciding that we stay where we are to sleep. One by one we fell asleep, except for me at least since I didn't really sleep anything. No, when the sun started its fight against the clouds I sat my look towards the horizon. A new year is awaiting, a new year where everything is possible. A year where I don't start as the underdog. Another year with my friends.

Happy new year, and cheers of course!

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