Sunday, June 24, 2007

About writing thing in drunkness

I can only vaguely remember writing that last entry last night. The part where I talk about how everyone wants me is really amusing to me. I suck.


I saw Zodiac today, and in the middle of the film I had finally recovered enough not to shake, and then I walked home and listened to music. Now I am going to play Silent Hill 2 and have the shit scared out of me. And then I MUST finish chapter 12.

This book is after all going to be finished in the run of this summer.

And tomorrow I am going to run and hang with people.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

The whores hustles, and the hustlers whores

I don't know why I ony write in this blog when I am wrong. to write that one sentence(and this) I made a million spelling-errors.

For some strange reason I remember my totally best friend in my early years, who had the same name as me. We were constantly together, and he made a trifork for me, because we wanted to be the Power Rangers and I was to be Billy, who had a triforce. He made it out of wood, and nailed it together himself with a hammer and nails. Maybe he was the first who loved me.

I don't know what I am doing. A lot of people want me. But I don't want any of them. Maybe I am too picky. Maybe not. Who the fuck knows?

I love PJ Harvey. Stories from the citiy stories from the sea, is absolutley great. I love her. I love many things. I love my book.

Argh!I am drunk. Goodbye.

Saturday, June 09, 2007

Smokey Joe wants a revelation

Don't you just hate it when lesbians force you to drink, a few days before your last exam?

Friday, June 01, 2007

You know when

you have an oral exam in the stupidest course ever, and you have memorized the book to every fucking little detail, and you feel that the membrane and the fabric of your brain is very close to erupt in an overload of information, and you come in there, pretty sure that it is going to fly by pretty painless, and you start talking, and your examinator use every sentence you say to put in some invaluable, unimportant, irrelevant comment about what country has Grotthaus(who in and of himself, through three hundered pages with chemistry and history only has one small theory, and STILL you remembered him) as their national chemist? And you go by, and try to weave in as much of the syllabus as possible, to show that you understand the connections and the contexts, and every time you connect people and theories, your stupid examinator just cuts you off. So, in the end, he ends up talking more than you. And then, to top it, he uses ten minutes to go on and on and on about some spelling errors in your semester assignment that you used tons of time on and that ended up not counting on the overall grade, because, your examinator lied to you, and then, just to make everything perfectly fucked-up and irritating and just to hellish to have a name, he tells you to be less enthustiastic.

I simply love kjem 204.

And now it is raining, and you have to go to work and be screamed at by old people, and honestly, you don't want to know your grade because that would just be the final blow in your face and the last acknowledgement about how much time you have wasted, and then, when you collaps in your own body and think that all that is you have died finally and endlessly, you remember that you have two more exams left.

Joy of joys.

And I haven't written for, like, years. And the gym, that is also one of the many examlocations is closed to about half four, because people have their exams there, and I want to run.

And in the end, confronting all this, I catch myself in thinking: why the hell does it matter? Its just grades, and not objective ones even.

I base too much of my personality on being good in school stuff.