en söt liten flicka - lars winnerbäck

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heaven - bryan adams

Oh - once in your life you find someone
Who will turn your world around
Bring you up when you're feelin' down
Ya - nothin' could change what you mean to me
Oh there's lots that I could say
But just hold me now
'Cause our love will light the way

Thursdays are nice. Lazy and only three lessons, and at least the first one is good.

Seems as if spring has decided to finally try to battle out the stubborn winter. Or well, today it seemed so for about half the day at least. It's funny, this weather thing, every second day it's bloody winter and the rest of the days it's sun and not warm, but warming at least.

Heck, the snow is melting away in Ystad at least. Not that it matters, since I try not to spend time here, but still.

Talking about Ystad. The upcoming weekend will be spent alone at home, without any company more than the telly and a bunch of movies (and a whole lot of junk-food that's been shipped in from ICA in order to grant my survival) and well... I'm not too thrilled. Nothing better to do though, since people are busy with moving and other for me totally useless things.

To conclude I would like to add that I today celebrate one month with Ems. One month... 31 days. Gee, it's gone by really fast. But that doesn't matter, since no matter how fast or slow it would have felt, it's still been the probably best month of my life.

Emma Karolina Engelin, I love you more than I can say.

<3


(P.s: The usual cheerful "cheers!" on the ending is today replaced by an imitation of a heart, made with computer keyboard. The author apologizes.)

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.


Cheers!

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.

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.

Cheers!

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