it's like trying to make the swimmingpool bigger by peeing in it.

all across the globe, i'm about to implode.

fruit and their sugars,
i'm becoming the bigger person.

load the rifle and aim for anything that flies.
if you don't believe; you target the skies.

snap out of the ballroom and pinch the zipper for your dress,
you only sense stress,
as their eyes caress,
your body that's made to impress,
the male hormons make you feel meaningless,
as their eyes bulge and you realise you're not a duchess

- you try to leave, you beat the odds.


i fail in life
so i need to take it
turn it off, rewind all the scenes.

play it over in my head for researchpurposes,
pull off the lid and let light into that empty space.
my soul
left ages ago.
it seems.

unwind. place one upon the other, add them, use math, use the rules.
apply, imply,
they're all in the head of the dead, all that information that took a lifetime to summon.
what's the use.

heroin. i'm not getting out of this easily. and i'm not sure i'm worth the effort.
take this life, leave it be. it's not for me, i failed at all points.
walking across the swamp with firends, thoughts like this never hits your head.

i sure long for better days, for light and for that energy only certain things can bring forth in me.

the change that needs to be made, its urgency and the importantcy,
is it yours, is it mine, is it the world or is it my habits. have i failed as a person or has the world failed me.
what have i got wrong.
so many wrongs. must add upp in nothing, i miss being pleased.

as i'm slowly gaining consciousness

i start to realise i'm getting stupider because of the o2-lack.
which in turn will make me a moneymaker, since stupidity is for highachievers and people that gladly go public with their simple opinions on simple/stupid things in life.
yes, i'm of course thinking about great ideas and the ability some have to make money on bloggin'. advertising! adverteasing. gavri has it and then it soon explode into sodapops and singalongs.

attract some good people now and then. having a job is stupid when i can make money by acting like a godess on the interwebs. so soon, i'll speak the colour.

since i don't have a life eitherways, why not make money on it. perfect combo. in limbo.

i dreamt i mixed pollen with tobacco and then put it back into the cigarettepaper. i was about to smoke it in some grassy fields after having made my way out of the city, out of the mall. i brought the kind of person i tend to like and tried to convince him it was a good idea to smoke this.
now i remember, i had another dream i was supposed to write down here the other day. fuck my forgetfulness.. it was something beautiful, goddamnit!

anyways. i won't put up any adverts here if you ship me some money.

you... ARE

the sun


the blood '


the redhead

and the fun


of being drunk and inside of this sailboat

monsters



either way, they should make extra lanes for people who'd love to drive drunk. drink and drive. or just simply want/need to sit behind the wheel in a reduced state, be that lack of sleep or the influence of other substances. if i ever were to become a politician, this would be my main concern to front my political view and sensibilites with.
i know this is me painting a picture of utopia, but whatever.

mince the meat and refresh your webpage/brain.

sometimes i see words.
the last time i tried to sleep these ones appeared:

redmill,

  whitemill,

blackmail
       and hotmail.



for some reason.
no obvious one, though.

there were some more, but i can't recall them now.

what gavri is made of

within the hour of sixty minutes, steam will infuse your dry brain. (that's not me anymore)

i don't know what comes first.
not the hen or the egg.
but i'm easily irritated. people put me through agony without even realising it, by acting completely normal, they will awaken feelings in me of wanting to murder someone. if you think this might be alarming for the people that for some reason surround me, what do you then think it does to me, my pitiful self.
what comes first? does people irritate me because i dislike them or do i dislike them because they irritate me?

by figuring this out, i do not know what will eventually happen.
protein and strains of acid. based upon the novel from space.
 new and approved.

please beat my shitty brain into pieces, blow it away by throwing rocks made out of glass, not the oposite way around. what is the cure for this. someone has made a serious mistake and i do therefore not believe in divine intervention/intelligent design. fuck that shit, i am the proof that people are often mistaken when the sheer belief in a god makes them tick and then turn completely mad/manic with satisfaction, purpose and willpower.

the right guidance, i am my own pathfinder. people annoy me and i turn into a cat. looking upon others as if they were a bunch of imbecile dogs.

i climb my own ladder in order to escape from society and the content of dogs it consist of.
some people are not dogs. some people actually stand out of the rest as intelligent beings. they are rather insightful and observe things from a knowledgable distance. these people are rare, but they stand out in a obvious way. i admire these samples of the human genome and fill up on wonder; why they don't come in much vaster numbers.
i do not know of many examples. this must be the rarest combination found on the shiny peel that is the earths surface. natural selection has ceased and idiots have the privelige of reproduction. is it right? is it wrong? who makes these choices, anyways. it is the 'human rights' and so forth, but is it not also a human right and a human obligation to ensure that we will only bring forward the best of and in us??


ah, what do i know. my housework-tasks have been reduced to simple things such as cutting a hole in a new bag of coffee and refilling the container we keep it in and put great use from every day. so you see, it's an important task, but stuff like doing the dishes, hoovering and cleaning in general is not for me, no. and nobody ever ask me to do these things, they've finally noticed that there's no use. i'm not going to just do it. i'm obviously not that normal anymore. it's not that simple, i make HUGE problems out of ca. nothing. blow it out and write nasty words all over it. it pops and spreads acid all across the room. people have to run faster and faster for each time i snap. more and more often.
it's almost like i'm having a long stay at some mediocre hotel.

the ultimate struggle is to have people emphasize what you consider to be your best qualities or your best work. it is almost impossible and they always seem to misinterpret.
it takes time.

i, i am the boy. she, she is the girl. he, he is the bear.

overpowering abilities and the psychology that hides your inner peace. inner piece. i'm lazy, frowned upon and keep my eyes shut. so many walls, those of my own eyes should be enough for this day.

through and within, don't be so easily offended. the trigger is yours to pull.

pizza and marzipane, feed your habits and cut the grass. your neigbourhood is important and the reputation will cling to the wood we glue togheter.

words to live by, i'm slowly turning into a sloth. hanging upside down and moving at such slow pace you won't se me get anywhere by staring. come back, the summary is way more impressive.


trying to rehearse simple beauty


6. What else can I do? (try to list as many answers as possible)

- i can make my blood taste like orangejucie and then fill myself up with the kind they have at most stores.
and besides. i could cut down on caffeine. i could do some change in my eatinghabits. serve myself some good.
no. i could pick up a pen, keep myself busy, get a job that i won't run away from in fear due to depression and a strong workethic that eventually brings me down because of lack of satisfaction. i could be more gentle to myself, to my stomach, exercise way more and think more positively. write nice things on pieces of paper that i hang up on the walls. as gentle reminders. 'hey, i'm worth the effort! what a breakthrough in my usual thinking'. distract myself. follow through on things. make something.
be nicer to people. do not overthink. be busy. plan things, follow through. gentle, nice.
whatever. what else can i do? i can call someone. write an email. go outside. paint the walls. what else can i do? dance on the roof. lie on the floor. do not be afraid of thinking or feeling deprived. do not worry. react, but don't overcompensate. reward. no more internet. no more isolation. distractions. what else can i do? spend money on tickets.

hunch of what the hey

today i woke only to find out i wasn't freezing anymore, fell asleep during a movie and forgot to open the window so i nearly choked. that might possibly be the worst way of waking up - that feeling of an urgent need to take deep breaths and restore oxygenlevels in your body. at first, you walk around like a zombie, bumping into everything. then you feel exhausted, tired, hungry and cold, all at the same time. then finally, when you try out your tounge and cognitive skills, you realise the damage is complete. you're ruined for the next 30 mins or so, and if you survive this apocalyptic sense of being, you're the true hero.

of course, i should add that feeling sick is one of the sideeffects. horribly sick.

so, as a gentle remider - do remember to open your window if you plan to have a seriously untidy and dirty room, plan to lock the door and then stay in there for another twelve hours. it is murder.

and also. when i finnaly do move out.
i want to.
learn french and swedish.
read alot of books.
make a timeline of important historical events.
draw alot of dinosaurs and such.
learn alot about dinosaurs and such.
take pictures, establish myself as a concertphotographer.
 become a vegan?
hang a bunch of crap up on the walls.
try not to be so easily distracted.
just create and be, try to make the apartment into a workshop.
learn how to play the guitar.
(exercise and get seriously fit.)
become a musical genious, either by listening and reading alot about music in general or perhaps evolve into some kind of musician.


keep all surfaces clean.

4. If I could imagine the perfect solution to this problem what would it be? What would it look like? What would it feel like?

- i must admit, the perfect solution would be to stay busy and occupied. to have a vision, to not feel like i'm estranged and stranded, lost and foreign. to feel at ease and at home. to feel no emotional stress that lures me into selfdestructive means. the feeling i now have is dominated by a sense of uselessness. i feel dirty and i should go for a jog to cleanse my spirit and organs, but i'm not able to summon the strenght to follow through on such efforts. i'm tired of restless walking across the rooms in this house, never ever feeling at ease. always having bad guilt for things i think, do and of course, the things i do not do.
i blame myself a lot. bring myself down. for some reason/s. so many things i'd love to do/undo. i ruminate beyond sensible belief and stay in a state where i'm constantly hurting.
i live no longer in the presence. the mind is situated in either the future or the past. sometimes both, and the feeling that domintes are those of guilt.

so. first things first, i am in great need of dealing with this.
simple manners, such as going for a walk. listening to music. overcome the fear of not being good enough, the rule of perfection must cease. i must become my own scarecrow.

identify restlessness, hopelessness, despair and distress.
do. something.

planned occupation. whatever.
focus. starvationmode. simple beauty and a clear throat. breathe. stay focused. stay tuned, into the moment.
be aware, be awake. please, remind me of this.

i often get lost in my own thoughts. patterns that turn into horrible images of irrational fear i'm no longer able to separate from reality. overthinking, overanalysing. different languages and confusion. speak the oposite of what your mind is set onto.

the urge to run away. the simple solutions, the simple ways out.
unhappy and sad, it takes great effort. i'm seemingly not able to gather the willpower in order to do such immense change.

go for a walk and eat healthy - solve problems afterwards.

in the name of the lard

whatever you do, WHATEVER, please promise me (me, the healthy me, that wants nothing but your own good, your best) that you never ever ever never Compare yourself to OTHERS. and their perception of good work.

who the fuck decides what's the law of 'good'. i thought to myself while watching a movie "who the fuck decided that that and this angle is the best to shoot from, that this and that composition is the ultimate one to use, that these and those colors gives the whole film a whole new level of greatness?" and so on. because, there are certain rules one can use, like the golden rectangle and whatever the means of composition you might like to choose. but hey, what the fuck about the general FEELING of it all? why apply rules to everything you do? i thought. why the fuck do we always feel the need to obey rules that doesn't even necessarily exist? it blows my mind in a bad way when it gets to me that noone really does decide what I may appreciate as good compositions, as good colors, as a good plot and as good actors. if you're a critic, you 'need' to obey certain rules. one cannot only go a long way by the general feeling you get from stuff because you're supposed to be a professional. but one cannot either TELL a person what to like because THAT SHOULD BE A CRIME!

rules scmules! FUCK THEM.

and don't, under any circumstances, COMPARE yourself to others. compare yourself to an otter, maybe, but not others, as in human beings, as in the species you've not chosen for yourself, but the species that you Happen to Be. whatever you and your work amount to is not important because obeying rules others than those of nature is like raping an unborn child.

i should probably come with a warning such as "pardon my foul language", but do your own math. what you find pleasing is your own matter and manner, do not try and rely on what certain and uncertain people may think and thus tell you to think too, but make your own mind up because that is your privelige as a person with a brain is still situated inside these bones that is the last thing to rot when you die.

ach, what the hell. i'm not sure if i come across with any other point than "BE YOURSELF BLAH BLAH NEVERMIND 'THE OTHERS' AND SO ON AND SO SOSOSOSOSOSO AAAAAHH FFFUCK!!!!", but what i mean is, how do one know that these rules do exist? is our perception of beaty and meaning so pretictable?

if so, i reckon they are, it's a bit sad, really. but we all know for certain, they are not. so, when no one knows what to really think of a piece of work, don't turn to common rules. they are a lie, as you will become one yourself if you don't hault and think hey, 'for a minute there'.

we're never as good as our references?
isn't that sad.
with that i of course mean, we're all addicts of what other people think. we think we're empty and uncreative so we fill up on what people that don't think like this about themselves think, do and provide.

well whatever. i have nothing new to offer you (myself, obviously), apart from the fact that i need to put some distance between ME and my opinions and those of the people that surround me.

it's a trap! don't


it's a crime! stop it.

it is abuse. discontinue.

i am no fan of too much ego, but to some extend, it can be more helpful than going without.


yes, i am blatantly obvious now, but...................... don't let them rape you.

because when people finally step out of this zone and do something completely NEW and original, slightly strange and you react either with "how fukcing great is this?! omg, i'm amazed!" if you respect the person who made this mindblowing piece of art, or you react with "bleh.." if you don't respect the individual behind such original ideas. why is this? it's very interesting. so, the sense of quality we're supposed to posess is really just fake, learnt and not very accurate..!

390. i guess.

if i ever ever do get a cat i shall either name it Cat or Dog.

i'm still not certain what would be the most suiting, it should at the very least be something really uncreative and uninspiring.

if i ever get a dog, though, i shall call it Cat.
or maybe Seagul. or Panda. or Shitface. or Scarecrow. or Fetch. or Petrolatum. or Oily Mess. or Motherfucker. or Monster. or Seaweed.

that's the only reason why i would ever consider getting meself a companionAnimal. it's just the sheer namegiving that tempts me into this lifelong trap (at least on the beast's behalf)

well yeah, suitably i'll shove in a 'whatever' here, because it was voted the most annoying word for four years in a row now, or something. i don't fully believe in the allMighty internet, but this piece of irrelevant info got stuck, tho.

now, all i want to do is go for a swim. i can't remember owning a swimsuit, so it'll be the usual Bra and Shorts-combo i get myself into before hitting the icy urinehole that is the common swimmingpool.

another 'whatever' is called for here. so you say, i'm being rather horrid.

i believe in apples.


also, i have so many secrets or uncomfortable things that people may confront me with, that i just mainly keep to myself at all cost. i ruin  entire days in order to protect them, rather than doing something with them. what is this selfdestructive way of getting through days? where is the logic?

i'm sad and stressed out. tired of this:

being held back. what the fuck.