Mind-altering Substance of Choice

"He would not stay for me, and who can wonder?
He would not stay for me to stand and gaze.
I shook his hand and tore my heart in sunder
And went with half my life about my ways."

"it was not quite self-pity, though there was an element of that, more a kind of shrinking into one's core, shrinking so deeply that everything else - the irritable tourists, the stricken girl - appeared as though on the other side of a thick glass panel." (Ian McEwan)

"Like many before me, I had come to the slow acknowledgement that the mind-altering substance of choice in a pressured, succesfull middle life is alcohol. Licit, social, with one's mild addiction easily concealed among everyone else's, and in all it's infinte, ingenious manifestations, so colourful, so tasty, the drink in your hand triumphs by its very form; its liquidity is at one with the everyday, with milk, tea, coffee, with water, and therefore with life itself." (Ian McEwan)

Kristinehamn was a wonderful little dream bubble - didn't do much and didn't want to - was just happy floating around. Being close to C does that, you're content with whatever, and end up discussing dreams about the future, about going to Magaluf and Tenerife. And we are certainly going there again. We have realized that is the life we want - not this boring one here in cold Sweden. Listening to party music right now, perfect mood. Now I just need my charger back so I can have my phone.

Sushi is great food for a date

I think I'm too much for making illusions. I think I want that too much. Everytime I see potentials and build air castles that come crumbling down when I catch up with reality.

Even if I didn't feel anything in particular, I wanted to feel. Now close to my 20th birthday I've finally gone on a real date. Sushi, white wine, and movies. And talking and laughing and having a really great time with a really great guy. But that was it. I'm too attached to the Cinderella dream, love at first sight, Törnrosa-syndrome, to even give it a chance. If there's no spark - I condemn it. It was awesomely cozy though and I love sushi. And Riesling wine.

Why the whole partnership thing though? I can have a heart to heart with close guy friends, I can have intense/hot/kinky/whatever-adjective-fits-here sex with other guys (whom Icould technically have a heart to heart with too if I wanted to) - I just don't see why the dreaded B-word used to get me so worked up.

Serious relationships doesn't seem to be my thing. No-strings-attached-deals seems more like my thing. I just stumble into that situation over and over again - sometimes it's a mess and sometimes it isn't. At the end of the day, I just shrug my shoulders and stumble into the next thing. All very cashual.

Kun for mig

"he'd use my name in conversation a lot, a succesful manipulation technique for narcissists like me who are easily hypnotized by the sound of their own names. And it worked."

"Because it's about him desserving you, not choosing you at random from a harem of devotees."

- I don't care about your band, by Julie Klausner

Hilarious, witty, entertaining, acute observations about disastrous dating. Anyways, that last one is something I really have to learn...

Klubben fyller mina ådror, och plåstrar alla sår, här ser man inga svaga tårar - jag har det bra.
Promillehalten stiger, här finns inget som gör ont, här finns inget som är sunt - jag har det bra.
Endast toner existerar i min värld, jag hör endast musik i mitt iskalla hjärta, här finns inget som kan röra mig, här finns ingen man som kan snöra mig. För jag har ingen plats för kärlek, och jag är så färdig med din falska ärlighet. Nu är det förbi, jag ska härda mig, jag har det mycket bättre utan dig. Så nu är musiken kun for mig, kun for mig.

Fri översättning av Medinas Kun for mig. Perfect club music. Valborg igår - första dagsfyllan sen Tenerife. Awesome, except that my phone died. Idag - utgång på Möllan o nattklubb - Molinas sista utgång i Malmö innan hon åker till England för Exams... See ya!

We are! Your friends!

Sometimes you get a reminder why you do what you do. Being a rockstar for a night, I could stop asking myself why I like getting drunk and fooling around. Owning a stage, with people following your every move, clapping when you clap, mimicking your dance moves - the megalomania was unstoppable. I felt like a puppeteer (?), holding the strings, making my little puppets dance. I felt like a vampire, glamoring my victims, enchanting them. I could never have done any of this though, if it wasn't for wonderful Jizz Junkie.

It was the perfect night out. Moderately drunk, Fab fab fab company, good mood, looking like a model (or at least thinking I did), all the guys after us, just dancing dancing dancing until they closed. And that stage, that stage will keep on reminding me why I love partying.

Playlist:
Suspekt - Sut den op fra slap
Medina - Kun for mig
Lady Gaga - Bad Romance
Justice Vs Simian - We are your friends

Panty face and Jizz junkie

Panty face and Jizz junkie had a wonderful time walking around a city they frequently get lost in. Things that happened were Panty face var dum vid Jizz junkie, som sa att Panty face skulle sluta var dum under henne. There also was smoking under dörruppgångar, late lunch at Tic Tac (there was some confusion to wether the name of the restaurant was Zic Zac, or was it Riff Raff?), "hola guapas" and a successful meeting at club S. Oh right, I forgot "Out of Juice" - a very nice bar with hot bartenders and cozy atmosphere. The day was concluded in: "Ohmygosh I'm so proud of you! I'm going to update my facebook status to: 'I'm best friends with a stripper!!!!!!!!!!' "

Anyway. Still woozy, lost and disoriented. Where is the fucking stability. At least I have a new computer now. Which I am fondling right now. Today there was a Pole, which Jizz junkie didn't abuse, but left in my care. I convinced him to eat China Box, which always upsets his stomach. Fun to talk about consistency of fecal matter while munching on fried shrimps in peanut sauce. Speaking of, I have to go take a crap.

Back. That was a good one. Moving on. Tonight there will be more adventures in the form of getting fjortis-drunk, go out chaperoning each other, hopefully find some fun guys to entertain ourselves with then a walk of shame back to my place in the morning. No one is safe when Patsy & Eddie is about the town. Just to clarify, Jizz junkie = Patsy. Panty face is more of a Eddie. At least all this adds up to more fun than dating an English guy who likes to eat chewing gum off the street. Cheerio.