Jamen bry er inte. What the fuck. Everytime someone farts it causes a commotion, thats how much people react to shit. It´s the same everywhere in the world, speciellt dar man inte har nagot annat att oroa sig for, som typ hur man ska fa mat for dagen eller om man ens kommer overleva. Orka bry sig?
I think I have this image of a "peace-love-and-understanding-society" sometimes in the 70s or possibly the summer of ´69 (something that absolutely didnt exist even then if you think about all the political conflicts going on, i know, im just glamourizing) where everyone is really chill and just love everyone and everything. It doesnt exist but I constantly wish it did. It`s like something from a Aldous Huxley novel; although in his books, the "chill" of the society is mostly dependent on drugs. And then we´re back to the English class discussions on drugs, sex and society. Yes, I miss my high school days, especially English class.
And no, I´m not a big fan of Billy Idol, I just revel in references. And I really am a silent rebel. I don´t make much noise of me, instead I write all my pain on a piece of paper, I turn my insides out, for everyone to see. I´ve explained this a million times; don´t care, I do this for myself. Especially since my memory has turned into a needle with holes in it, I need something to refresh it with.
Three weeks left. I can´t wait till the season is over. At the same time, I know I will miss this little bubble that is supposed to be life on Tenerife. Speaking of Tenerife, I heard a great song today. "Fuck Ibiza, fuck Tenerife - we´re going to Magaluf". Not that I´m going, I just laughed at how humble it sounds. Arrogance is so charming. Sarcasm always wins though.
