the truth

writing is not sex, its a drug: "my own personal brand of herion", sceriously.
today my account got fucked up and i couldnt post anything for far too long. i know i dont post things that regularly any way, but the thing is, when i decide to write a blog, and set my mind to begin constructing scentences in my head, i can only live for so long before i get desprate. the scentences in my mind pile up, and it feels like i just really, really need to write them down soon, or ill like explode. now that ive recovered my treasured blog, i am calm again.

hers what i intended to write:

ehh, fuck you see when i wait to long with writing, i forget everything i intended to write, loose all those perfect scentences my mind constructed.

ill start with... today.

i spent the day reading a norwegian model, party animal's blog. its cool to get a glimps of somebody elses life, especially when its a good life they have. but i realised i should write about myself. the thing that happens to me when i intrude other peoples lives is i loose my own. i subcontiously act like them.if i want to have a good life i should probably stop doing that. not probably, defiantly, and tell the truth. the whole truth. im not going to pretend to be cool in this blog. im not going to leave out all the facts that i dont aprove of, because all those facts are just as big a part of me as the ones i do approve of are. one thing i need to do is be able to admire people with out wanting to be them. i need to admire myself and be happy with the person i am. when i admire other people it just means im tired of myself. and i need to not be tired of myself.

like just now, for example, im watching a movie with my favotite charecter from skins - cassie (to those wh dont know what im talking bout, please please please check it out, its worth it) and as i cemmence the writing of this blog, i begin to write the way i think cassie would write. i dont hear my voice in my head, i hear cassie's - which is crap.

the thing is that who i am becomes har define. i am a blur of everything around me. which is why i cant be myself, because i cant sepperate the thing that are me from the things that are my suroundings. i think thats what makes me insecure. and now im depressed because i just wasted the whole day and i have a really big history test on tuesday. fuck me.

the truth is im not cool. but i try to be and everybody tries to be and fuck fuck fuck!!!! our world is so messed up you know - fuck the media and fuck me saying fuck all the time, it soo not cool that i keep saying it. i keep saying fuck because i am so influenced by my suroundings. i think i try to do what everyody else thinks is cool because that will make me cool or something. i also wish i had another word for cool. i use that to much too.

but why does it matter if you only use one word for cool? whats the diffrence - you mean the same thing. why do people admire artists so much? people that are able to come up with multiple words for the same thing and sound cool. because they are themselves. ? because they tell us what we are suposed to think about the world. no, we prefer artists to media because they dont inforce it on you. artists tell us what we are suposed to think and then leave it to us to decide on the truth for our selves, it makes us form our own oppinions.

the media makes us blind. just look at fashion 50 years ago. 50 years ago, something was incredibly fashionable, and everybody thought that thing made you look amazing. today, we find other things amazing that people 50 years ago would look at and say were ugly. this is what i cant stand about our world. we are the media, you are the media! and i am of course, we all infulence each other, even with out the tv and shit, we were the media. our world is based on people doing what they do only because they think this will make them appear better. and it is based on poeple being blind because they see what the society sees and not what their haert sees.

i want to see with my heart. doesnt that sound wonderful? that sounds really good to me. i have read a few books - i have read one book but i have the feeling that i have read more but i dont know. it says that we are all living a dream, which our society makes up and we believe in because, as i said, we are blind and do what everybody else does because we think thats the right thing to do (i used another word - a synonym- for cool there btw) but hey, guess what, its not. and that hey guess what thing isnt really me, thats me being influenced by everything around me and my memory which is good (which is maybe why i am so influenced - i remember all the things that are suposed to influence me. maybe thats why school stupide people are more popular - they dont think as much.?) remembers some american girl or some weird book (no, the book wasnt weird, no, maybe it was i have no idea, sorry) where they said that, and now it comes back to me because the context is perfect and it would fit in there, but its not my words - they orriginated else where. but hey, that makes me pretty clever, doesnt it? i like that, :D but i guess that makes me less popular then, but i really wonder what the ke to sucess in life is - being popular or being clever? please tell me... but i must know, let me do what i just told you guys about, sceach my memory for the right answer, i dont know the right answer, but my memory, which remembers the influence i have had from other people into believing what is right and what is the truth in the world, which then fools me into thinking that its my oppinion, when in reality i have no idea if it is or isnt. what was i talking about again? that sounds s sutupide and btw i just deleated a fuck i was about to write. the key to sucess must be... i dont know, for once, i cant be bothered to think back in my memory, because i know thats not me. the key to sucess must be to just be happy. that comes from me, i made that up based on my influence from society, but nevertheless, i made it up.

if i didnt go to school i could spend so much time getting to know the truth. i so badly want time to just do that. but the thing is, you cant just take time of for that. you have to get turned on, suddenly, sometimes you just spark and begin to write.

i love my dad. he is like me somehow. sometimes he can be so anoying, but sometimes we are just so alike, and he understands me so well. i like that :D


this seems personal,, and if i were obiding the dream, doing as i thouht i was suposed to do to be cool, i would not publish this, because cool people are never that personal, but im not publishing this t do the opposite. im publishing this because i need to tell the truth, because if i tell the truth than i must know the truth, which i want to know.

This calls for a celebration, i have now written so much that you need to click "older posts" to see my first ones... they no longer just fit on one page and i find that very, very marvolous.

The process of creating a collection of words reminds me of making babies :P

Ive gone far to long without writing here. It feels so wrong, like everything ive been wanting to write during the last week is pounding against the coners of my scull, screaming at the top of their lungs to escape onto paper. Like sperm cells that try so desperately to get a meaning with their exsistance, and become part of something as important as life itself, my dear thoughts just want to be "born" and released into the world where they can live happily on a piece of paper, and they will compete as hard as the sperm cells to do this.

of course i dont have the time to write down each one of my thoughts- people don't have time to have sex or give birth all day either.
i find that, like the sperm, for my thoughts to get on paper, they must get there first. When i sit down with the intention of writing, I write the thought that reaches my finger tips first. The thought doesn't need to be especially significant or incredibly interesting, i simply commence with the first one. Perhaps if i waited a bit, a better thought might reach me in its due time, yet i rarely have the ability to resist writing when first i have begun. I wonder: If sprem cells were chosen not on their speed, but on their actual quality, would we all be better people?

All i know for sure is that both sex and writing can be incredibly satisfying.