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Tapped Into Your Mind And Soul

September 24, 2013

My days end best when the sunset gets itself behind
That little lady sitting on the passenger side
It’s much less picturesque without her catching the light
The horizon tries but it’s just not as kind on the eyes

Fall is officially here , a fact I am incredibly happy about. I even think we are thought with that awkward period when it’s ice cold in the morning but suddenly super sunny and hot in the midday. It confuses with my head (and body) because I bundle up in coat and scarf in the morning, which – when I’m done at work – turns into a death trap planning to kill me by death of heat. But now the cold has really settled in, and even though the afternoon was sunny and blue-skied it was too cold to ditch the coat. This makes me a very happy lady.

This weekend I’m going on a cabin trip, which I am looking very much forward to, considering I promised myself to spend as many weekends as possible out of town (which either means a cabin in the mountains or a big European city) this fall and winter. In a few weeks I’m going to Langedrag national park with the family to visit wolves, lynxes and arctic foxes, which I’m also looking forward to a great deal. I love animals, and I love the mountains, so why not combine it? The girls and I are also trying to plan a trip to Paris where one of us is studying this semester, so we want to really grab the chance when we have this great excuse to go… I really hope we can manage to plan it even though it has to fit for all five girls (…e.g., not an easy task).

Furthermore I feel like I’m not doing quite so miserably at school as I usually do at this point in the semester: it seems that during this time I’ve already started to fall out of it. However, the worst is usually to get back after the study weeks, which 1) never occur in the same week(s) because the teachers in the different courses love to be special and unique and seem incapable of working out a mutual plan, which results in a space of maybe three weeks with half-assed schedules which fucks with my plan, and 2) I usually don’t do what I’m supposed to do – study – which sets me even more back than I was before the study weeks, which is highly ironical and very demotivational. This year, though, I have to brag a bit and underline that I’ve read quite a few of the novels (which are usually the biggest and hardest pieces to get through), which I find more important than to read all the theoretical essays and texts. Of course I wish I could read it all, but in both semesters I’ve had so far I’ve never read it all and I’ve managed just fine without it. (Not that that is an excuse after all, quite on the contrary I suppose.)

So! This is probably incredibly uninteresting, but this is what I have to write out and thus this is what you get. My goal now is to stay away from the blog until I can honestly say that I’ve spent the reading weeks doing what I have to do: finish two obligatory essays and one film review presentation. I will go into super mode and then I can brag about it all when I get back. Sounds like a motivational plan, since I must write a post sometime before October is over! Yes. Good.

[Song: Arabella | Artist: Arctic Monkeys]

Släck Min Törst Med Rosa Läppar

August 29, 2013

Du e för fin för mig
Men jag vill ha dig ändå
Jag passar inte in som man ska va’
Men jag vill veta hur

I want to dedicate this post to my rabbit, Tøffen. (With no relation to the lyrics, mind you. baha) I rarely post specifically personal posts on here, but I wanted to write a few words on my favourite creature, the little bundle that brightens my existence so much. After all, I think he deserves it, for keeping up with me as much as he does!

I first met Tøffen when I worked one week in a pet shop in Hamar (where my grandparents live) as a school project. He came in the first day I worked, and he was with his sibling (I always thought of him as male, so I will refer to him as the brother). The first I see of them is two little balls of fur on the shoulders of a couple who are coming to deliver them off. I immediately lose my breath over the extreme beauty and delicacy and furryness of those two; I am basically reduced to a puddle of goo.

They were put in a pen with four other bunnies, which seemed perfectly fine for them. Except that the bunnies didn’t like Tøffen. Whenever I had a free moment I would hang by the pen, watching them intensely, trying to will into liking him. Because it was truly incredibly sad: the bunnies all bundled together in a big pile of warm fluff, including the brother, but Tøffen wasn’t allowed to join them. I know, it’s horrible. So I spent all my lunch breaks with him, comforting him and petting him. I told him he was really tough for not rolling over and dying – I’m not entirely sure it’s realistic that that would ever happen, but I know for sure that if they don’t get enough love and comfort in their early days they become hostile and aggressive and not very happy bunnies.

The natural turn of events after this was of course to call my mom and say that I was very sorry, but we had to get a bunny. And not any bunny, but this bunny. My mom was frustrated, becuase the one criteria for me working in a pet shop was that I would not bring any animals home. But she came and visited me, and would you know – suddenly we were bunny owners. I guess his charm was too irresistible!

And so, life has passed in these very nearly seven (7!!!) years since that day we brought him home. This was when he was no larger than the palm of my hand; now he is a massive, small-dog-sized rabbit with a temper like none you have ever seen, and doesn’t he know it! But he’s also a very loving and caring bunny when you get to know him and trust him. You see, being as scary and temperamental as he is, there is no doubt that people are scared of him. I quite get it myself. He will growl like a mad bear if you do something that displeases him, and he will jump forward and attack you if it goes too far. He can “dig” on you with his paws and he can bite you (with his toothless mouth, so no harm done, but the intention is still clear, haha) and he can turn his back on you in indignation and disappointment.

But! When all these protests are made, and he has told you once more that he, not you, is the boss, that he, not you, is in charge and that he, not you, knows what’s best and what’s not – then he will be the sweetest little bundle ever. He will come running to you for treats, he will parade around your legs and do binkies to show off, he will stand on his hind legs and paw on your calves to beg for your attention, he will kiss and nudge you with his nose to get your attention, and his favorite move – when I’m lying on my bed and my hand is rested casually by my side, he will run up to me and lay his head down immediately next to it and wait in complete silence for me to pet him. And when I do (which is always, hehe) he will lie there until I stop (whereupon he will stay stock still for several moments until he realises he will get no more pets).

And all of these wonderful acts are what makes me love him so incredibly much, but last but not least I think the times when he settles down next to me on his own initiative are the most meaningful in a way. He doesn’t want anything, he just feels comfortable around me (and maybe wants some body warmth) and that means more than anything. And of course the time I came home from a vacation and he literally clung to my neck with both his paws for a good thirty minutes, no opportunity for letting go – I had to pull him away in the end. I might be a sentimental wreck reading too much into things, but I honestly think that when you feel this connection with an animal and there is no other explanation for their behaviour other than that they love you too – well, that’s the best happiness in the entire world.

[Song: Du E För Fin För Mig | Artist: Dungen]

Walking Free, Come With Me

July 31, 2013

Well every day do what you can
If you let them turn you round
Whatever goes up
Must come down

It’s funny how things change. What’s even funnier is how much you change yourself. With every choice you make, consciously or unconsciously, you decide to continue on a path – or deviate from it – and this is, in its very essence, life. What life is about. The choices you make are the foundations of your life.

I recently had an interesting conversation with a friend. I told him I was a bit upset by my friend’s lack of reaction to my claim that I was a bit sad. (Disclaimer: alcohol was involved, so 1) everything was more dramatic than it would’ve been sober, and 2) my friend did probably not even recognise my distress since, well, alcohol was involved.) Someone I used to know that I supposedly hurt a while back wouldn’t aknowledge my existence, and I thought this was a bit overwhelming considering I had been hurt more by them than they possibly could have been hurt by me. Not that this is the point – I respect their desire to have me out of their life, and I did nothing to bother them at all. The only thing I wanted was some good old-fashioned support from my best friend while I sat there in my drunkenness feeling sorry for myself.

And after telling this tale to my friend, he asked me why I was sad. I replied that I thought I had made that clear, to which he replied: “I’m not asking for the reason you felt sad, I’m asking why you decided to be sad.” I thought to myself: what the hell? If I get sad, that’s definitely not because I want to feel sad, it’s because I feel it, and I can’t control my feelings, right? And so I told him this, and he said, of course, you feel what you feel and that’s fair enough, but wouldn’t it have been better to not be sad?

This set some serious gears going in my head. The funny thing is, ironically enough, that my first instinct was to be sad at my friend’s words. They hit someplace inside me because it felt like he was accusing me of being primitive (in fact, he said that feeling sad is a very primitive instinct, in the same way that resorting to anger is) and a victim of my unstable emotions. And yes, I can agree that I have been a victim of my feelings, especially when I was younger, because when you’re a teenager your emotions are everything you’ve got (or so it feels, anyway) and they decide more or less everything. But I’m not a teenager anymore, and I’m no longer a victim of my own emotions. But I do still have them, and I do still feel sad from time to time – and particularly if I’m out drinking and suddenly finding myself in a funk with no one to lift me out of it (which was what I was trying to persuade my friend into indulging me with). This is of course the time to go home, which was what I did, and no funk was felt the next morning… But I honestly thought I would get some compassion. Instead I got a seriously game-changing question that boggled my belief in myself.

What I’m trying to circle back to is this: was it my choice to be sad? Could I simply have chosen to not be sad? My night would have ended on a slightly better note if I had just said no to the whole emotional thing and said fuck it, I won’t care. But is that possible? My friend said that it demands more of one to take the high road than to indulge yourself in sadness and pity, to which I certainly agree… But. I can’t help but feeling a bit stung by his words nonetheless. Maybe because I didn’t really have any reason to feel sad, that maybe I should be past caring about those forgotten feelings – and I’m not? Or am I? Guilt, I feel guilt. I feel guilty towards myself and those around me who have helped me and made me so happy and made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world – only to see me whining over pathetic people. Even the fact that I find them pathetic is also a sign that I still even assign any kind of emotion to them, which I thought I was past.

I suppose I am disappointed with myself for making the wrong choice. I lay my own foundations for my life, and if I don’t want this negativity in my life I only have to make the choice to take it away. Choose to not be sad. Choose to not care. If I decide not to be sad, who knows – maybe I just won’t be sad and that’ll be that? Can it really be that simple? I’m going to try. Meanwhile I feel like being sad for being sad, which is just a ridiculously ridiculous circle. Haha. Wish me luck.

[Song: Desire Lines | Artist: Deerhunter]

So Have You Got The Guts

June 27, 2013

Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few
Cause I always do
Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new
Now I’ve thought it through

Hello! I thought you might want an update on how my life went after my last (slightly stressed out) post, and well, if you don’t want it you’re going to get it anyway. I was right to be worried about that exam – British Civilisation – and I came out of the whole ordeal with a lovely D on my card. Well, not exactly proud of my effort there, to be completely honest. I know it doesn’t really matter if you get a C or a D as long as you pass, but still, it constantly bothers me to see it standing there, mocking me and reminding me what a failure I am, so I’m considering retaking the course next spring, hoping that it might work better that time. (All obligatory activity is valid for the next two semesters of the course, so I wouldn’t really need to do anything other than to meet up for the exam – and read, obviously.) However, not everything failed this semester, and I finally got out of the “C-rut” by getting a B in ExPhil and an A in British Literature. Yay! This means I can defend my choice to continue with literature, as I’m going to for the next two years (with the odd exception of silly obligatory classes, of course).

I’m so excited for the fall semester that I’m currently on the fourth book of the syllabus. This might sound impressive, but considering that there is about 8 novels in each of the three courses, I should really do my reading now so I’ll avoid repeating my previous mistakes. Not to forget that there is the usual boring, dry textbook material to read as well, which I won’t bother doing until I actually have to. For now I’m enjoying the novels as novels, and not as schoolwork. I think this works a lot better.

But the fall semester is not the only thing I’m excited about – I obviously can’t wait to have some proper vacation as well! Tomorrow I’ll be finished with the fourth week of my summer job, leaving only one to go, and well, words can’t express how much I’m looking forward to this. Not that working has been so bad – the time has positively flown away, and I honestly thought it’d be a lot worse than this. Other than being slightly too tired and responsible to do fun things on regular work days I feel that I’ve spent my time surprisingly well. I pictured five weeks of work as one long march towards freedom in the distance, and instead it has been more like a walk in the park. And when I reach the end of the park I have one week of Oslo summer to enjoy, three (!) weeks of island jumping (…is there a better word for this in English? Please tell me) in Greece with my friend, and of course the faithful Øya festival just a few days after I arrive back in Oslo (hopefully very, very tan. I’ll out-tan everybody). Together this all bring promises of a summer filled with friends, fun, sun, sea, partying, music and love. Summer of love ’13? Haha.

I always bore myself to death in retrospect reading posts like this because it is just smalltalk about past, present and future with no real substance or emotional depth, but damn it, I can’t always bring myself into that mood. Maybe my July post will be written to you from Greece? We’ll see. I wish you all a lovely summer!

(PS – I can’t believe I forgot that I was supposed to rant about the new single from Arctic Monkeys, also the title song of this post (naturally). Those of you who have followed me for years know how much they mean to me and how much of their music have been discussed here. I promise I’ll get back to it – but for now, let me say that I am so fucking thrilled to have them back and how much I love their new song and how much I can’t wait for their album in September. Also, if you want to join me for my birthday trip to see them the night before my birthday in Sheffield (which WILL happen) please do! Hehe.)

[Song: Do I Wanna Know? | Artist: Arctic Monkeys]

In My Fantasy Infinity

May 20, 2013

I wanna walk out into the night without it being running away
From a bad day in my brain
For the sake of this drift that I could be cruising
In the comfort of a sportscar illusion

What do you do when you’re stressed about the exam you’re having tomorrow that you’re totally unprepared for? You do everything else than what you should do (study). Like writing a post on your blog, a necessary action, yes, but an action that surely could have waited 1,5 days. However, writing is therapeutic for me, and since I’m a firm believer in the “if I haven’t learned it not I’ll never learn it for tomorrow”-theory I guess I can justify my attempts to relax myself as much as possible before the big day tomorrow.

Well, I do have to interject with myself there. When I say that I don’t think I’ll learn any more in 1,5 days I know I’m wrong. Just last week I sat with some classmates and had a thoroughly kick-ass study group, and I think (…in fact, I know) that I learnt more from those two days than from the rest of the semester in its entirety. I will therefore count this post as a sort of mental preparation for a real study session, and in this very moment I’ve got 23 hours and 50 minutes until the exam starts. This should go well.

However, before I try to pretend I’m a good student I need to think about something else. Life in general has been surprisingly good lately, and as I’ve said previously, it’s very apparent that my best writing is done when I’m feeling some deep unrest in my soul or something equally melodramatic. Right now there are very few serious qualms in my soul, which results in quite boring writing – or actually, no writing at all. I just can’t wait until I’m done with exams (June 3rd to be precise) so I can just be. I can’t say I look much forward to working 5 straight weeks starting the morning after my final exam, but after that I have 5 booked weeks of summer, fun and relaxing. I can’t say that it sounds so bad when I look at it that way.

The other day I reflected a bit on the history of this blog. I was much more personal back then, 3,5 years ago. I also had better stats and, I think, a small group of followers who checked by regularly because there was always a chance of a new post. Nowadays there is one post a month, and I guess there’s not really any point to check by regularly because whenever I actually do post anything it’s usually vague and nondescript and not really personal at all and all in all quite cryptic, I guess.

I don’t really know what my point is here – am I trying to figure out if I want to quit? Or do I want to write more often, more personal? Or am I just making a general observation? I don’t even know. All I know is that I want to feel more connected to my “inner self” and that is generally well-achieved through writing, whether it be on this blog, in my journal or spewed out on my tumblr. I guess what I’m thinking right now is that I’ll try and nail these exams first and then we’ll see how it goes.

(And right now a stray thought popped into my head – a memory of a time when I was with my parents at our cabin (aka favourite place on earth) and I read them one of my posts from here (this one), a piece I wrote in English class back in high school that I was pretty satisfied with. (I still think it’s fairly good, especially written by a 15/16-year-old me, and it’s a shame that I feel like I haven’t written anything of quality since like 2009. Sob. (That being said I would definitely have made some alterations to that version if I were to edit it today, but I will never go back and edit my previous mistakes, they’re there to stay!) The reason why I remember this so well is because after I had finished it and asked them for their opinion, my dad (after saying it was great, of course, like he had any choice) said he thought it was such a melancholy piece, that the ending was ominous and that it was a sad tale. I was nonplussed because I hadn’t intended it to be like that, in fact I don’t think I had intended it to be anything but certainly not sad! And that’s the time when I really thouroughly understood that writing (and reading) means completely different things to different people. I really appreciate this moment because it was the first time I understood that literature is interpreted differently by different people, and that is such an important value to literature. There is no right and wrong – however I intended that story to be, it was interpreted by him in his own way, and how am I to say that it’s any better or worse than what I had intended? For all I know, maybe the story is a lot better with this deeper dimension – maybe it’s just a plain and simple piece whose worth is determined by the reader’s interpretation. And I love that.)

[Song: Girl Called Alex | Artist: Kurt Vile]

I Thought I Was Happy

April 4, 2013

Out of this zone, trying to see
I’m so alone, nothing for me
I guess I’ll go home, try to be sane
Try to pretend none of it happened

Feelings are weird. You know? One minute you’re happy, the next you’re shaking with emotion over something silly and you’re wondering, what the hell just happened? And you know you’re actually happy, because that’s the underlying emotion in general these days, but something comes along and rocks the boat and you just sit there and think ‘stop it’ but you realise that nobody is rocking the boat except your treacherous emotions.

So, what’s a girl to do? Explode with all the emotions building up inside, spilling out all sorts of unpleasantries, or let it pass in silence and hope for the best? Because in my experience, often preferring option number two, letting things pass in silence and hoping for the best often results in even worse results than if you let it spill out. However, letting it all spill out is definitely a highly undesirable resolution – and often it doesn’t resolve anything either, except the initial feeling of relief after spilling it out (followed often by regret at loss of selv-containment). This is a typical dilemma for most emotional people, though I suspect most of said group has found their preferred method of resolution. The problem for me, is that I haven’t.

I like to (or dislike to, but do anyway) compare myself with a hedhehog. As an animal lover I do not protest against being compared to what I think is an absolutely adorable creature, in fact, I think it’s preferrable to many other animals. The catch of comparing oneself to a hedhehog is that you must accept that the hedhehog is a creature that, when scared or angry, rolls in on itself, effectively scaring away everyone around it because of its characteristic spikes. This is just a defence mechanism, a completely natural thing (and certainly effective in the hedhehog’s natural habitat), but what about those times when the hedhehog rolls in on itself and it spikes strike one of its friends?

If you have followed this blog for some time you know that I’m hopeless at these metaphors and similes. I realise as I’m writing this that this simile in particular might sound incredibly silly. However, I shall continue using it and see how it works out. You see, I believe there is a point to be made: the hedgehog might be scared by one of its friends, thus resulting in it spiking them. The friend might not have meant to scare the heghehog, but oops, here we are, and the hedhehog has its spikes out and the damage is done. Who was right? Can the hedgehog defend the spiking of the friend because the friend shouldn’t have scared the heghehog in the first place? Or should the hedhehog have contained itself better and controlled its emotions? Then we must not forget: the hedhehog is an animal, running on instinct. It is not know for being specifically rational.

In this example, I suppose I’m trying to speak of my emotions as the hedhehog (just to clear that up). The friend that scared the hedhehog? I don’t even know what to call it. Something undefined. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that the spikes are out, and it’s not always easy to pull them back in. Maybe if someone just talked to the hedgehog, it would all be resolved?

[Song: Why Won’t They Talk To Me? | Artist: Tame Impala] 

My World Is Turning Pages

March 11, 2013
tags:

This could be the day that we push through
It could be the day that all our dreams come true
For me and you
‘Til we’re at the end of just another day

Life! What an amazing thing. It’s a mystery to me how much everything can change in so little time, how something small can become so big, how incredibly happy you can become when you’ve thought you were happy previously and realise that it was nothing compared to this. Of course, this happiness gets many times multiplied when you look outside and hear the birds in the trees and see the sun in the sky.

I guess my point is that change can be a good thing – a very good thing, actually. It can be scary, it can be tough, but it can make everything make a turn for the better, and when it does, it’s the best feeling in the world. I know there’s nothing I’m lookin forward to more now than to live live, look forward, live in the moment, breathe, smile, embrace. Life is good if you let it open up to you.

[Song: Apocalypse Dreams | Artist: Tame Impala]