http://puttenutt.blogspot.com

you had a paper
crimson
touched
by your love
hidden behind the innocent
smile

and i had nothing
not a coin to give

i cried
i screamed
for attention

but you just held
your crumpled paper
like treasure
cast in the wind

what am i?

I'm in a pissy, irritated mood. Probably some sort of post-traumatic-year thing. Do not feel like it's new year at all. Really can't be bothered to think about it. Just annoyed in general.

Could also because my nose is blotched, which means i feel my whole head is stuck up. Can't think clearly, can't breath... can't speak. I need to clean my room. Still want my new year to start in a nice clean room. Always thought my room represented my life. Been chaos for the nearest half year, so I thought if i cleaned it up before tomorrow, 2005 will be a nice and clean year.

... But no. I ended up sorting paper.. ie: taking paper out of where they were stacked and pile them into different categories. Then i don't know what to do with them. So my room is filled with junk and paper.

Will stop writing depressive thoughts. Have to do the old tradition... read through all the diary entries for this year (on my REAL diary, not the fjuttiga one) and evaluate it. Really, just summarize the fun and not-fun parts. Then write some resolutions for 2005.

Have a nice scream at twelve!

That would have been the title for Garden State. If only it wasn't too weird and hard to remember. I guess Garden State sounds prettier, but Large's Ark really applies to the movie more.

I am impressed. Really really impressed by Zach Braff. He managed to catch that NO-NAME feeling and make it into a movie. Some would say it's bittersweet, melancholy... but no words can really describe it to the full extent. It's like in the end when he repeats "So what do we do? So what do we do?" To me that was home, it wrapped me up in a blanket and was so warm.

You could say Garden State is a little like Lost in Translation, both about emptiness and finding someone... about what is really important in Life. Just the simple things in life that really is the most beautiful things. But I felt Garden State was more "close to you", especially the part with the Gator-suit-ice-skating! That cracked me up till tears started rolling down... it was just like where did he get that from??

I like these movies, because I want to feel what they feel. I want to walk in a empty temple, I want to kiss under the rain, I love sitting in the bus looking out in the night lights (not some much in Sweden, as they are basically non-existent), I want to stand on top of a garbage mountain and scream "So what do we do now?"

I don't know why this is so important to me, but it really strikes me so hard in the chest. Perhaps I just want to FEEL things. I don't want to be numb. I've been so out of myself lately, sometimes I think I might have lost it. When i look into my brain for the feeling, it's BLANK.

All I want is to drown in my emotions again.

3 min.
Train leaves in 3 min.
Must get to plattform 15.
Must, must.
Otherwise wait another quarter.
No!
Cold and hungry.
Home, such a wonderful word.
Run run, Forrest run!!
Who the heck is Forrest?
You haven't even seen the damn movie, stop acting culturalized.
Run run, Janie run!!
Pass the subway barriers
Homeless calls "SNYGGING!"
Loser, go get a job. (No. Sorry. I meant I will gladly let my parents tax money pay for your socialbidrag)
Please don't use it to buy drugs.
YOU'RE RUINING YOUR FUCKING LIFE!!
on the other hand who isn't?

Run run, Janie run!!
SHE MADE IT!
into the train, into the train
oh my god, i look insane
I hate train windows, they make you look distorted.
Perhaps i am distorted.
My ears are red like pig ass
Pig's ass isn't red you know?
Fuck that, what color is it then?
Pink.
Fine!
Perhaps the incomplete dominance in my ear alleles caused the white pigment to disperse and...
Baboon ass. That's what i meant. They are red right??

Why is there so many people in the train?

Oh seat!!!
In middle of two people
In front of three people
Okay, I can squish.
There.
What's that smell??
Gosh, the guy on the left stinks...
It's okay, only two stations.
RIP RIP RIP
Girl on right is having hard time ripping something out of the newspaper
"Tips to finding a flat"
Not her too!!
She looks fourteen!!
Perhaps she has a bad family life, perhaps his dad drinks and beats her...
Maybe I should say something.
Cough.. "erm, do you need help? RING POOLIA!"
no, janie bad joke. very bad.

Women in front has fake Luis Vuitton bag
I hate those bags, they are so ugly
Especially fake ones
Wannabe.
Little fat boy to her left must be son
Tommy Hilfinger sweater
Stuffing his mouth with candy
Self-discipline i scream!!! Otherwise you'll turn out like Herman Merman the fat ass!
No, i can't say that.
Silently.
Teenage boy to her right, looks a bit uncomfortable
Humming songs to himself and huddling his jacket.
Perhaps he's the ripping-newspaper-girl's friend
They never speak
Perhaps he is her brother then
Brothers and sisters never speak.

Everyone is so out of place
So empty
I wonder what the black girl sitting on the other seat is thinking
She just stares out into the air
What to black girls think about?
Probably like the yellow and white girls.

So many silent mind's rumbling
But the faces are all so expressionless
Maybe i was wrong
Maybe i am the only one thinking in this compartment

Solna, nästa solna.
YEEEEEEEEES.
Home, home, home, home, home, home

I'm a broken petal, cast away by the bloom.
Fallen from the rest, blown away by the wind.
I'm a broken petal, soon trampled in the snow.
Frozen into ice, broken alone.

Broken petal, different from the rest of petals. Tries to be different. Perhaps broke itself off, or perhaps the big flower didn't like petal. Now it is alone. It is happy alone. Or maybe it hasn't been broken, but wishes for the day it will break. The petal cannot decide.

This is from my last nearly successful diary entry that didn't get published, now let it see the light...

-------Seasons change, it's winter and my ass if frozen again.
But do you ever wonder if everything just changes in circles?

Here I am. Thinking life is a straight line, from point A to point B. Cute little round faced baby, to ugly wrinkly shrunken bitter old... thing (those people don't even deserve to be humans). You are young, you move on, you become old. But perhaps that's not how it is! It just dawned me, that perhaps life is like loopy-holes-circles. Like the hindus thought how time was like... You know, not straight but round. Except the round circles move forward too...

When do you move from the past? Why do present still show glimpse of past... or perhaps past likes to catch up with the present. All the stupid philosophical questions really, just to make things sound cooler than it is. My point is, there are periods of your life when you are away from your past, going for future. Then suddenly you are dragged back by some force, that dumps a bunch of memories on you. Or perhaps you encounter the memories themself, changed.-----------

You might be wondering why i am using old Spice Girl lyrics for title. I don't really know actually. Could be that I'm being a tad nostalgic, perhaps. It happens when you read some of your own old diary entries (even these on tabulas), and see how you have changed: from writing-to people you liked-to stupid lame jokes. But in the core I'm probably quite the same person. Just a little more settled into one place. Well, not that I was flying around space every where before - physically. But i believe my mind didn't really have a hold of itself.

It was a wonderful time though. And the SADDEST thing is that you realize you will never ever have those stupid/crazy/INSANE thoughts that you had during that time. My god, I will never be INS(J)ANIETY. HAHAHA. *sobs* It does feel like a great loss, all that stupid youth suddenly down the drainage system. From now on me and people around me (assuming I won't be hanging out with 14-year-old in the future) will be all OLDIES. ALL GROWN UP. Just look at you guys. Distasteful.

Honestly, now that i have had a boyfriend for what seems like AGES (fun time sure does pass fast!), and when we've discussed many important and serious ADULTISH stuff, you feel old and mature. Moving together, making apartment pretty (with pucca and cute stuff everywhere of course!), travel together... it's like mammapappabarn (the kid game) except in real life. I also enjoyed bossy-ing over in that game.

[Now, suddenly I'm very tired. So i'm going to sleep, because tomorrow i have to visit my boyfriend who has the KISSING DISEASE!! isn't it funny? i don't have it though. ]

I'm in a turmoil. My brain wants to run into ten different directions. I must be going through some early-life crisis. The what-will-i-become, what-will-i-do-when-i'm-big crisis. It's all very confusing. And stupid me who likes to do so many different things.

My latest treasure in this jungle is Business & Management, since i figured out being a Manager would be quite fun. Especially considering my love of bossing around people. I could work in a company, be project leader, manage stuff. Yes, that's great. But then I will become one of the businessy-black-suit and ugly high heel kind of nine-five cropped hair glasses stereotype of person. No of course I could become my own, unique manager. But, still.

I've always wanted to be a bit bohemian. A bit restless. A bit write my own songs. A bit write poetry. A bit take photography. A bit tender. A bit melancholy. A bit deep. A bit save the world. But what is that? What kind of person is that really? Perhaps I could be my own very unique manager, and do all those other things at the same time.

Perhaps I could become a Bohemian Business Manager. Actually... Why not?

I'm biting my way through Anaïs Nin's diary, the part where she encounters Henry Miller and his wife June. I find her perfect to my taste, the way she writes and the way she uses her emotions, and she likes to make things more than what they are. Also strangely (or maybe not so) the main reason I'm so attracted to her probably is her free-ness. That she can write about all her feelings. That she can love several people at the same time in different ways, and not be ashamed of it. Well, it's not only feelings really. A lot of things she did would be quite "wow" even in our days.

It's just the fact that she dares to live. Live out to the extent. Not behind the boundaries society, family or whatever sets you into. She lives after her instincts, and won't judge herself after that. Other people might judge her, but she only notes them down on her diary. That's something i like in people. Liberation. Also she is a writer, and creative people are always more sensitive to things. Creative people are also more attention seeking.

It's funny, when Anaïs first saw June and fell in love for her, she would just note what happened down in her diary. That she fell in love with her, a woman. She never asked why? Or it can't possibly be true? Or oh-my-god there must be something wrong with me?Which would be perhaps what normal people would've written. No, Anaïs just acted on her emotions and feelings, and since they tell her she loves June, she accepts it as something totally natural. I admire that.

Anyway, enough admiration today. Reading other people's diary is actually not as fun as it seems. It's not like fiction when things happen all the time... but I can't say it's not worth it. Just for the passage underneath, it's worth reading the book. (It is one of my favorite passages, strikes especially hard to me.)

"Our love is inalterable. Only knowledge would hurt you. Perhaps I am demon, to be able to pass from Henry's arms into yours, but literal faithfulness is for me empty of meaning. I cannot live by it. What is a tragedy is that we should live so close together without your being able to perceive this knowledge, that such secrets should be possible, that you should only know what I wish to tell you, that there should be no trace on my body of what I live through. But lying, too, is living, lying of the kind I do."