One Small Step At A Time

Oh my God, I’m so excited I don’t know what to do with myself, and can you believe it? My internet just freaked out, so I’m writing this in Word, feels, weird, haha. I know maybe I shouldn’t get myself all worked up about it but I can’t help myself. If this goes all the way, if this thing works out, I’m gonna be the happiest person on Earth, I swear to God, or maybe I should swear to something I actually believe in… I’ll swear it on my own life!

I’ll be the happiest, most beaming, most thrilled and excited person in the whole wide world!

So, wanna guess what it’s all about? I think you can guess. I think you can make some really qualified guesses, too. I just don’t think you’re ever going to guess the exact thing.

Okay, I got it, I’m gonna calm down for a second, let you know what I’m all up to and everything.

Well, first of all, I wasn’t going to tell until I knew more, but I just can’t keep it a secret anymore, so I gotta let it out, even though nothing is sure yet, absolutely not. I shouldn’t say that anything is settled, I mean, they haven’t even looked at it yet; for Christ’s sake (ahum, my own life’s sake), I haven’t even finished it yet. But they said half-done, and they’d be willing to take a look at it, I mean, come on! That totally rocks!

Nothing at all is sure yet, but hell, I’m an optimist. Lemme tell you what I’m going all crazy about, and all you fellas out there who are all into writing will understand why I’m being so excited.

Allright. There’s this company in the US that deals with finding publicists for writers, even those who are previously unpublished – I mean real publicists, the traditional kind, the ones that take a look at your work and if they wanna publish it, they pay you! Not the self-publishing kind of thing, where you pay for it all by yourself and do fees and stuff and all that just to watch nobody buy your books and you end up having to buy them all yourself for an insane price. Not that kind. The old-fashioned kind. If successful, they get paid, and they get like ten percent of what you sell for.

Allright. (I’m saying it again and I’m aware of it. Gotta tie my clauses together, right?) Allright. So, I took the form on their site, writing a bit about myself and about my book, you know, the Nanowrimo one? Yeah. And I just got an e-mail back from them that they’d like to see my material for a review. If they like it and think it’s going to sell, they’ll help me finish and edit my writing, then find me a suitable publicist. Who knows how long it’s gonna take if it ever even goes that far, but still, it’s hell lot more than I can do on my own. Besides, I want my book published the way I wrote it, in English, you know?

Well, if they don’t think it’s good enough or that it’s not of any commercial value, they’ll let me know, and delete everything I ever sent to them so that I can seek my fortune someplace else.

You might be thinking all this sounds totally tallulah, but I’ve checked this company out thoroughly, and they seem to be very serious and have a nice reputation. They’ve been very professional to me this far, I really hope I’m not going to be scammed or anything, but hell, then at least I’d be taking my chances.

I can’t believe they’re interested in my work!

I never even thought I’d make it through the first, you know, filter or whatever. And here I am, staring at this email, and it just feels insane. In a good way, you know?

WARNING! THE POET IS ABOUT TO LET HERSELF DREAM FOR A WHILE!

Yeah, cause this is like, one of the top things that has happened to me lately. Let me just dream for a second, okay? Let me just dream, drift off into that imaginary cloud and picture how it would all be like, if I managed my way into the writer’s business. And this soon…! I’m just bloody 20 years old!

What if I actually got to publish my book…? And what’s even better, what if I actually got paid for publishing my book?

The idea is so wild and so great that I just wanna toss it down on the ground and stomp on it; that’s how much I already hate it, how badly I don’t wanna be let down.

Okay. So I think I know what they’re going to say. Or what I’m hoping they’ll say. That what I’ve written isn’t finished (of course) and that it needs to be extrapolished (of course! Haven’t even attempted to edit it yet!). But hopefully – hopefully – and there’s a little flare of hope and anticipation burning in there, in my chest somewhere – hopefully, they’ll say I’ve got potential. That would mean the world. That would mean everything in the whole world.

Even the fact that they’re going to read through my entire works, or at least a couple of chapters of it (but I think I’ll benefit out of sending all of it), and give me some sort of response for it, that’s great! That someone professional are willing to do that, I mean someone unpartial, someone from the outside, whose job it is to assess how good a piece of writing is.

Hahaha, I can’t help but laughing, but if – and just if – I mean, I know that I gotta be realistic about it – if this goes all the way, oh my God, then I know exactly what I’m gonna do.

I’m gonna head straight to my teacher’s office and rub it in his face that a student he failed on the English writing exam, apparently writes well enough to get herself published in the US.

Please, please be excited along with me…!

You’re the only one I’ve told this far except for my Ruby, who was very sceptical I think, so please, please be happy for me!

I’ve been through the first step, right? I filled out that form. And now I’m past that step. That’s one little step. Not much, right? And now all I gotta do is take the next step, right? All I gotta do is send them a copy of my writing, protecting my copyright of course… and answer two more questions they had in store for me… and then wait. Then there’s nothing more I can do before they get back in touch with me, which they said would take between 7-10 days after they receive it. Pretty quick huh?

And then, when they get back to me, we’ll just have to see what they say. But if I get past that step too, oh my God, then all I have to do is to write the last chapters of the book still unwritten, look over the whole thing and edit it like hell, and then that step too is taken care of. What if I ever get this far?

Wouldn’t it be amazing?

Please, please, will you all be happy for me?

I love you guys and thank you all for pushing me through Nanowrimo. Without you this would never have happened! YOU ROCK!!

Like, 1 764 646 976 484 843 hugs and kisses to ALL OF YOU from the POET

TRULY YOURS!!

Keeping Secrets

The things I tell you now
You'll keep to yourself
Won't you?

The secrets you know now
You'll put on that shelf
Won't you?

I trust you enough to confide in you,
To take all my feelings and hide in you,

The things I tell you now
You won't tell
Would you?

I may have a bad record
When it comes to keeping secrets
And still you trust me
Now don't you?

The things you tell me now
I'll keep to myself
Won't I?

The secrets I know now
I'll keep to myself
Won't I?

So please would you stay within my reach,
Stay where those ugly lies won't breach,
Where we'll keep secrets
To ourselves
Won't we?

Promo Pic -08

Hey fellas!
Here's the promo pic for 2008, enjoy it and spread it to everyone you know!
LOVE, the POET

Snow And Nano

Here I am, talking to my sis on the phone while I'm dripping of water since I just got out of the bath, and what do I see? There's snow! Snow everywhere! Snow on my car, snow on the trees...! And do you have any idea what splendid view I have from my kitchen windows? It's so beautiful... this is really it, the reason why I can't help but love Sweden in the winter. Covered by that frosty snow... Wow. It's so beautiful, I can't even describe it. Although already I can see the rain clouds gathering, isn't that typical?
We get a little bit of snow that just melts away right after it's settled down, trying to redecorate the landscape. Guess God doesn't like the redecoration, ha, ha. Maybe he's not the white-walls-kind of guy?
Anyway, right now I'm being really excited about a prose project, concerning this year's Nano. Yeah I know I'm all hung up on it...! But this time it's not just me. Me and terrific prose writer The Raven decided the other day we were going to co-write this year's Nano together, and I think it's gonna turn out really awesome.
First I better finish 2007's... Well... I'm getting there.
Let me make a list as to how the day is going to look, and hopefully I'll get some time left over to do writing. Right?
Okay, so first of all I'm going to get dressed and have a bite to eat.
Secondly, do my hair.
Thirdly, do the dishes.
After that, my regular 15-minute apartment clean up, including throwing garbage out and making the bed and picking up laundry from the floor and so on.
And then, finally, finishing my 1,000 word report for school. I think it'll be easy. Like my motto nowadays is, write 1,666 words a day for one month and when you get an assignment to write a thousand words report? Feels like Jiggery-Pokery's coming out.
Allright!
Get all that done and I'm gonna disappear into my world of angels for a while.
THE POET iN THE jAR

That's How It Works

Don't you just love it when there're no right answers?
When you can just, like, think about stuff and consider all possible solutions or ways of looking at something, knowing there is no answer more correct than any other?
I mean, honestly, what do we really know about everything? We always act as if we were the wisest people, knowing everything about everything. There're shows on Discovery called stuff like "That's how it works" and there's a gigantic, economically thriving industry in making entertainment out of the correct. Like quiz shows. Jeopardy! and the like. What's with all that? Why do we imagine that we're so clever?
Just look at all kind of destruction mankind is responsible for.
Geez.
I'm gonna switch TV channels now.

Firefly

Give me fireworks
and I won't enjoy them

Give me the stars
and I won't stay in their light

Give me everything
that shimmers in the sky

and I won't be as naive as to
swallow their shine

C'mon, give me fireworks
They'll do wonders to my soul

Just maybe they will work
just enough to make me whole

Give me your fireworks
I won't enjoy them

Give me your stars
I won't stay in their light

Always as fleeting
as a firefly

Always fleeting
Don't know why

Nails And Claws

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I just got off the phone with Nisse. And you know what? Turns out we don't have any guarantee to get in to the C course, that we're planning to take this spring. And guess what? There are 50 appliants and only 32 open spots. And what do they go after first? If you've passed all the parts of the A and B course.
I still have two retakes to do. Both after the final application date. How the hell am I gonna round up those points in order to pass? It doesn't matter if I pass since the retakes are after the set application date.
This sucks. I'm placed as reserve number 10 on one of the subcourses and number 15 on the other one. There's no chance in hell they're gonna take me in.
And you know what bothers me the most?
Apart from the fact that no one whatsoever at the university has told us about all this and that it might be a good idea to have a backup plan?
It's just that I know I can do it. I know that I'm better than most of the students in my class. But since I assumed we were guaranteed a spot like the last two terms, I didn't study enough for one test.
It's so unfair!
I'm so dependent of my student's allowance! If I don't get in, I don't get student's allowance, meaning I'm not gonna be able to pay my bills and I'll be evicted from this dream apartment right after I've moved in.
How can they do this to us?
How could we possibly know that for the C course, there were different rules, than for the A and B course, if not a soul bothered to inform us?
I just feel like curling up in a corner and cry. I don't know what the hell to do. Even I am helpless in this situation.
I'll tell you something. I am so not going to give up my space for someone else. I deserve that space, I've worked so hard to get there, no way I'm gonna sit silently by and watch as they ruin my life.
I'm gonna fight for this with nails and claws.

Dead To Me

Will you give me that bouquet of roses?
Will you hand me explanations along with the salt?
Either way you are dead to me.
Do or say, you are dead to me.

Would you mind stroking my shoulders for once?
Could you come so close I could feel your warmth?
Either way you are dead to me.
Do or say, you are dead to me.

You never were there when I needed you,
You never held me when I was down,
You never left when I asked you to,
While I was lost you were always found

Don't you get it?
Well, you never understood.
You really don't get it?
Well, you never were good.

So will you give me that bouquet of roses?
Will you hand me explanations along with the salt?
And then in miraculous ways the past would change?

Sorry to disappoint you,
but you're just not up to date.
Either way you are dead to me.
Do or say, you are dead to me.

Nothing In Your Voice

There's nothing in your voice no more
Nothing in your eyes
We don't touch
We don't speak
It's not
The way it used to be
Nothing's going on no more
Nothing in those eyes
Not even a little
Or not as much
As before
Not even a single thing
We could turn away from
And ignore
There's nothing to escape no more
Nothing to look past
There's nothing in your voice no more
Do you want to leave it at that?

Run Me Over

Have patience with me
Go easy on me
Don't run me over
Again
Be good to me
Don't shut my eyes
so I can't see
You ran me over
You ran me over

I have no one
I have nothing
but then I'm used to walking
blinded by the light
I am no one, really
Disembodied from myself
Still just maybe I could heal myself
if I could steal the time

I'm bleeding, slowly
Losing breath so slowly
And as my heart dies in my chest
I know it's for the best

Have patience with me
Go easy on me
Don't run me over
Again
Be good to me
Don't shut my eyes
so I can't see
You ran me over
You ran me over

In the mirror
I'm a shadow
Contours and echoes of a thing
I'm sure I used to be
We don't matter, do we?
Disembodied from ourselves
Still just maybe we'd defend ourselves
if we got help to fight

I'm bleeding, slowly
Losing breath so slowly
And as my heart dies in my chest
I know it's for the best

Have patience with me
Go easy on me
Don't run me over
Again
Be good to me
Don't shut my eyes
so I can't see
You ran me over
You ran me over

But it's not over

Encouragement Erased

Hey fellas.
Tried to post some of the pics we took at Saturday's 20th birthday party. The site freaked out and gave me ten minutes of blank screen before telling me it had "encountered a problem" and needed to be shut down. So I'm giving that up for now. Anyone at Facebook can check the pics out there.
I'm exhausted. And sick of Mum. Seems nothing I ever do is ever good enough for her. I wasn't exactly expecting her to jump up and down out of sheer joy when spotting my tattoo, but then again, I didn't expect her to say "Don't bother, I've already seen that ugly blotch you got on your back" either, which was what she did. Dad merely said "Oh, right." I don't really know how to make her happy. I think I'm doing all I can do for her. Maybe I could work some more, I dunno. What she and a hell lot of other people constantly seem to fail to realize is that school takes hell of a lot of energy and time. Got exams next week and a report to hand in on Wednesday. Meanwhile I gotta pack all the stuff lying about the place so that we can move all my stuff this weekend. Geez.
Well, like last weekend, when we were celebrating my birthday at Mum and Dad's with all my relatives and folks, and Mum didn't even seem to be happy to see me. It makes me a bit sad. I know maybe I shouldn't complain. It's just that I long for the old times, when she was interested in what I did and encouraged me and everything.
Like my writing. Dunno anyone who's been more supportive about my writing in the past than Mum. But now that I tell her I would like to study writing for a while, maybe work with it in the future, instead of becoming a teacher and all that, it's like that support has just flown away, she just looks at me and goes, "well, that's not very practical, is it?" or "how do you suppose you're ever going to make a living out of that?". Sucky. Seems it was only okay to encourage your daughter when she was writing as a hobby, when it didn't do anyone any harm, not when she actually wants to make something out of it.
I'm gonna crash on the couch for a while now in front of the TV before I go to bed. You people hold your thumbs that everything works out with moving and all.
And everything else.
G'night.

Triggered

Arm yourself!
Aim at me!
Point this way,
don't be afraid of me!
What's wrong with your hate?
I thought it felt safe?
Isn't looking down the barrel of a gun
any fun?
Isn't this what you wanted,
what you wanted to become?
Aren't you gonna fight me?
You've practically won!
I'm down on my knees,
so that everyone sees,
but you don't have the guts
to finish me.
Stop being such a pacifist,
pondering if this is wrong
There's no guilt in making a corpse of me,
in my heart I'm already gone.

Stranger In My Shell

Do I know you?

Or how can you tell?

I never say anything

that matters

of myself

Sorry?

Have I met you?

You couldn't know that

cause it matters

and I wouldn't tell

So stick to the small talk,

you stranger

in my shell

Naivete's Flare

If you got some faith,

would you lend me a share?

Waste maybe a second on a secular prayer?

Or am I too sinful and blind from despair

to earn just a mouthful

of naivete's flare?

You be the judge of what you can spare

You might not wanna trust it

in an atheist's care

And if faith could be traded

I guess it wouldn't be fair

Still, since I'm asking,

it might be worth to bear,

and a bit of faith if anything

could wake me up from this nightmare.

Manically Grinning Exclamation Marks

Wow... it's over. I've done it. I crossed the line to 50K and I even did it on time. I can't believe it's over and done with, nor could I ever really believe I was going to make it...
Not on me first try, me first year.
But I did.
Can't help but to say... YEAY! WOHOO! And all other types of thingies that could be labelled as 'short expressions followed by exclamation marks, usually emphasized in a manically grinning manner using not only the vocal cords but also the major parts of happy facial expressions and enthusiastic body language'.
Yeah I know, at least this mad word race has taught me something; to say what you really intend to say in one word in like, one word times twenty. Word-pooing, they say at the university whenever we get like, a home exam on some vague question to which there isn't really any good answer, but that we're required to do some sort of fixed amount of words if we wanna pass.
They got a point there.
I've been talking about Nanowrimo ever since I enrolled, one or two days before November began, and all you fellas might be starting to get bored of it. I could make this blog post about something else. Something more enticing, that would catch your interest in an instant and keep it there, something really useful that didn't involve me doing promotion for something or pulling some lame anecdote about my writer's struggles.
But naah.
I'm not gonna.
Maybe cause this place is all about a writer's struggles, that's the whole point why I rigged it up in the first place, almost a year ago (can you believe it's gone by already? I hardly can). Maybe cause my writing is my life, and this insane, month-long experience is one of the hardest thing in writing I've ever come to do.
Maybe it's most of all cause the day November ended, and there wasn't any obvious goal anymore, and no deadline constantly hovering above my head, I realized it felt empty.
I felt empty.
My writing's been all revived thanks to this project. My story may have reached 50,000, but it's far from over yet. I'm going to tell it. I'm going to finish it. I'm gonna do what I always used to do in the past, which is put my goddamn writing first, before everything else.
I have something to strive for now. And I know, for anyone not a writer, it sounds crazy. But I'm starting to find some bits and pieces of myself again, starting to gather that puzzle together and make some sort of sense of my life.
And that's why this post's about Nanowrimo. Without it, I'd still be fumbling in darkness, not caring about anything, not knowing about anything. You get a sense of achievement along with doing it. A sense of discipline. A sense of amazement before what is possible to do if you just put your mind to it and work damn hard to get there.
So I'm proud of myself. And I'm glad that I'm able to feel proud of myself, too. These 50K are the beginning, now I'm ready to get the whole world.
I'm gonna stay off the Nano forums for a while, until my work with my novel's starting to look like something actually finished; but I'll come back here, so watch out...
This isn't the last you've heard of me, haha...

The Sky's The Limit

I'm almost 24 hours late, but as I promised, here I am, checking in my 40K! Well, technically, I suppose I'm even above that, got 41,332 words at the moment, but 40K makes up a nice check point, don't you think? Next magic number is 45K, think I've mentioned it before, but it don't hurt having it here again.
After like, 60 minutes of staring at a sentence, wondering where the hell one of my main characters were supposed to hide from her pursuers, I asked around at the Nanowrimo Forums, and got a good suggestion that finally got me moving again. After that, I'm doing fairly okay, although I have to admit I'm starting to feel a bit like I felt in the beginning - that I have absolutely no idea where my plot is taking me. Well, I know how it's all going to end, I just don't know exactly what's going to fill it out in between, but I guess I'll figure that out as I go... haha!
Right, if I'm gonna stay on schedule, maybe even exceed it a bit (I know for a fact that I won't have any time to write on the final writing day - Friday - since Nisse is coming up to visit), I better go take that twenty minute break now, before I head back to the pages of my book where I'll try to vanish for another 1,000 words.
Actually, I'm going to head out into the kitchen and check on the pannacotta. Man, that's gonna be yummy!
The Sky's The Limit, Says The Poet In The Jar.

Of Course I Drink, I'm A Writer

Strange how easy the words are starting to come to me. I hardly look at them, I just catch them, and write them down. Easy! In the beginning, 1,667 words a day were almost literally HELL to be able to scramble up, but once I've gotten going, once I've stopped staring dumbly at a word hoping it will just transform itself to something better, now that's when I've really gotten the story going. Right now I'm doing a very interesting sort of, jumping back and forth in time, with flashbacks on what's going on in the real time of the events, and stuff. Yeah, sure I know a lot of it I'm gonna have to replace once it's done. But what the heck! That's the editing part, that's the last part!
What I'm doing now, see, that's the fun part, there's a difference there.
I think what made it for me was getting past that halfway point. Hit 25K, and it's all downhill from here, from here we can just soar, and fly ahead. Next important boundary is 40K. When I'm there, it'll be like running down towards that finishing line, almost hearing everyone stomp and cheer for you!
What does it matter that I'm a little little bit behind schedule?
Not much, not now that I've figured out the perfect strategy for myself!
I do it like this. Sit down, make myself comfortable. Computer switched on, the right document open. Chat programs and Internet closed down, dictionary, water and a handy piece of candy next to me, for when I'm struck by sugar loss (yes, I admit it, I have an addiction to sweets). Check the clock, add an hour to what it shows, and say to myself: "When that clock hits that time, I have to have written 1,000 words." And then I do! It's amazing that it actually works to do word wars with yourself. Anyway! When I reach that number, may it be on time, may it be before time's up, I stop writing, right away, and have a twenty minute break, doing something completely else.
Eating, micro-sleeping, feeding the banana flies, that sort of stuff.
And when I get back, I do it again. Strange, but I never fail to miss the deadline, even if I think what I write really, really sucks, and that delete button is starting to look tempting...
Awesome! This way I'll hit 40K by midnight, I'll drop by to tell you the minute that I do so (and if I do so...).
Well, actually, by the time I finish this post, I'll have been gone from the writing for hours (for a good cause, mind you, my kitchen is now spotlessly clean), so I better wrap it up.
There're two things I wanna say:
1. Awesome to see you on Nanowrimo, Ryan! I think we'll have a blast when we both join next year. All blood, sweat and tears, and probably a hint of laughter, too. Meanwhile, you'll do a great job supporting everyone. Thumbs up for you!
2. Saw 1408 at the cinema yesterday, and John Cusack did such a nice line that's clinging to my head. View the title of this post, and wow, there it is. Thought it'd fit beautifully with all this writing frenzy stuff that's been going to my head lately. Enjoy!
Bye for this time, folks, hopefully see you at 40K tonight!

Needles

another knife,
another dream
needles through my skin
drug me as I sleep,
force that poison in
make me addicted,
make me blunt and faint
I'm already bound to it,
to my anger, to my hate
make me sleep forever,
what difference does it make
the horrors are with me either way
may I be sleeping,
may I be awake.
_______________________

I wrote this in my lunch hour, inspired by a dream I had last night about me being some misunderstood drug addict, being pumped full of drugs whenever I slept, and nobody would believe me when I said it wasn't me doing it. I believe this strange dream derives from the passage I wrote of my novel last night, where one of the main characters receives a shot that pierces the skin of her arm. Nevertheless, it was a really shaky and scary nightmare, where I had fights with one of my best friend over this uncontrolled addiction. Sometimes I'm glad this kinda stuff can actually result in something as creative as poetry and its like. Good to know it comes of any use, huh? However you'd like to look at it, here's another poem of mine, and I think you can see more layers of it than what I've described to you here.

Exploiting The Spotlight

Hear this one out. You're at work, right, at the gas station. And this guy comes in complaining about the high prices on gas. Now, that happens at least once a day, but something about this particular bloke and this particular day and the particular mood you happen to be in, changes things a bit. This customer goes rallying on about how he's always bought the same amount of petrol, 50 litres, and how it used to cost 400 crowns, then 500, and now 600; and you stand there behind the counter, just waiting for him to cough up what it costs, I mean, if he really thinks it's that expensive, why doesn't he just buy for 400 crowns and be happy with how many litres he gets? But no, he's got to tell you this story, which he probably tells at every gas station to everyone that happens to be behind the counter. And you listen to all this, and you realize all you want to sympathetically say is: "Yeah, they should really figure out a cheaper way to exploit the developing countries of their natural resources so that you can save a few bucks on your way from checkpoint A to checkpoint B." But you don't, and why don't you?
Because you're service-mind impersonated. Which is what keeps you around in this business.
So all you do is nod and go, "Agreed, the prices will never cease to rise," while you're thinking of making this perhaps silly little anecdote the subject of your next blog post.
And all of this business make me go thinking of all the people out there working in stores and cafés and boutiques that don't have a single ounce of that service-minded thing. They just scan you from top to toe and spit out, "45,5 crowns," without greeting, without saying goodbye when you leave, and most certainly, without the small talk.
Might just be me, but I'm sick of that kind of people.
When I'm at work, no matter what, if I'm feeling like a sun ray or if all I wanna do is fall apart in some corner and cry my hearts out, I stay service-minded. I smile and I'm happy and I joke with the customers, even those who aren't even regulars, because of two things.
One, nice personnel is what people remember first when they think about a place, and my job is what keeps the family business going. Ensure the family, ensure that smile.
Two, the happier I act, the happier I actually do become. Always thought this was bullshit and didn't work, but it does. Most of the time, you know, can't feel like you're walking on pink clouds 24/7, but at least for most part. Or a small part.
Over to something else, for anyone of you who might have had the patience of reading this far.
Got 27K behind me, soon up in 30. If I reach 30 today I'll be where I should have been by yesterday, so I'm not that far behind. Gonna catch up with all that before I head downtown to pick up my library books.
See ya around.
And thanks for that spotlight.

Halfway!

People, you're looking at my 25,000 word shoutout! Hit the magical number five minutes ago. Now there's only 25,000 left, meaning every word I type from now on will leave me with less words left than I have already written.
I'm not going to mention that I'm still two days behind schedule. That would take the edge of this post, ha, ha.
See you tomorrow, when I'm even further closer to my goal!

Paradise Shows

Where is my paradise
Nothing here but shadows
Where is my paradise
Nothing here of the tale you told
None of that paradise shows

Round room soaked in darkness
Your eyes not yet adjusted
Round room full of dead ends
And no doors

Round room where you lie now
Your body not adapted
Round room the cold is endless
on the floor

Where is my paradise
Nothing here but shadows
Where is my paradise
Nothing here of the tale you told
None of that paradise shows

Round room when I'm adjusted
My eyes pierce through the dark
And somewhere I can see contours
of light

Round room when I've adapted
Dead ends all leave a mark
A hint to where to look some more
for light

Where is my paradise
Nothing here but shadows
Where is my paradise
Nothing here of the tale you told
None of that paradise shows

Gone are the pages of my life
But dead ends might just help you out at times
Maybe when there is no simple way out
The way out will find you simple and right

Where is my paradise
Nothing here but shadows
Where is my paradise
Victimized, crystallized
None of that paradise shows

I'm too old for shows

Copy Of Me

Do you know how to hate?
Or anything of the sort?
Do you know how to lie?
Did you catch what I taught?

Come back to me when you can pull a decent lie,
when you can look at me with nothing but hate in your eyes,
then I'll be satisfied with what I chose to teach,
when you're more or less just a copy of me.

Line Up

I just want out.
I just want out.

These two lines popped up in my head, and I wanna put them down before I forget them. But I'm way too tired to make anything out of it right now. I sat up to do my word share today, and I managed, my total of words is up in 21,430 by now, but my eyes are drooping like never before, and my whole body's aching as if I'd been working out or something. Haven't had the time to go swimming for a while, sucky, I even bought me a 3 months worth of entrance card there, haha.
G'night!

Some Sort Of Irony

Very happy to see that the magical number of 700 unique visitors has been breached today!
Gonna take me a while to upload to the news reel, since there've been technical problems, apologize for that.
I'm trying to get my thick head through this youth book called Silverfin, for school tomorrow, and I'm stuck. I look at the page, read it once, read it twice, still think it's the dullest thing I've ever read; look up at the computer screen and head to the blog. I know. My discipline sucks. But I just can't understand why we're supposed to read this sexist bullshit about "James Bond, before he became the legend". I've read almost 200 pages, and the only important female characters are James's aunt, who does "divine cooking", and Wilder Lawless - do you believe that name? - who has the "legs of a horse". If this is some kind of irony from our teacher's end, haha, now end it. Tragically enough, I've heard this book is like the top most popular youth book in Britain, even tops Harry Potter.
Does that tell you anything?
Tells me loads.
Anyway. Better suffer myself through it. When I'm done with it, I still got five essays to read and an upcoming exam, plus the novel stuff. But I might just drop by and publish a poem later on tonight, so keep your eyes open.
Bye for now, fellas.

A Hard Day's Night?

I'm just about to start today's share, and looking at my chocolate bar, I can see that half has gone by the time it took to start up the computer alone. Guess I'll have to resign to my water glass, when I get stuck and all the chocolate's finally gone. Dammit.
Gonna be a hard night tonight anyway, though. I got 2,000 words, approximately, to finish up today if I wanna keep up, and we all know I wanna keep up, right? So I better get to the business. This week's gonna be interesting, you know. Novel writing til 3 AM in the mornings... reading for Tuesday's deadline on my way to school, most likely... studying for Friday's exam in the lunch hours. Better hope this part of the linguistics course aint as complex as the first one was, that exam I flunked out on, and although I could have done the retake this Friday, I hadn't studied at all and decided to do it after Christmas instead. Hoping it'll be held then, maybe it's halfway into the term or something, but we'll see. I got like, three years to finish my points, so there's no rush. And let's face it, anytime is better than during novel-writing month, haha.
Enough about that.
Today we went to see Dad on Father's Day and to give him the lottery ticket I'd bought for him. He didn't win anything, but seemed equally happy anyway. Both he and Mum were at work so we went there. They're like, redecorating the whole place, everything was upside down and all over the place, but I think it's gonna look smashing when it's done.
See you when I reach next writer's block, until then, I'm gonna vanish off into novel-writing land.
Don't Do It As I Do It, Do It As I Tell You To. The basic morale of any parent lecturing their children. A gift to you from Poet In The Jar. Say Thanks.

Stay On Target

Just got up, I got like... just over two hours to finish today's share of 1,667 words. I did it yesterday in an hour and a half (!) so I think it's manageable, if I just disciplin myself. I spent some time on the nanowrimo forums the other day which earned me a couple of tips that made it twice as easy to reach the right number on time. I'm gonna write some of them down here just to make some sort of a pep talk for myself.
1. Keep a note next to the computer or wherever you sit down with your writing that says, "Stay on target!". That way, every time you feel like giving up and doing something else, you just look at the note and get a bad conscious and move on.
2. Put up deadlines for yourself! Yesterday when I was writing I looked at the time and said to myself, "I have to write 1,000 words within one hour," and when that hour was over, I had. Sure, it was a frenzy-like writing hour but hey, that's the whole point of it, anyway. Minideadlines within the deadline, so to speak. Works for me!
3. Separate writing time from break time. If you do take breaks, which I rarely do when writing cause it disturbs my flow, make sure you take them properly. If you're taking a ten minute break, DO NOT start writing again after eight minutes because you felt bored. Wait those last two minutes as well and you'll be twice as enthusiastic about it when you sit down again.
4. Think about your novel. As often as you can. Trigger your imagination when in line at the supermarket or on the bus or anywhere you might be, it'll build up your anticipations for when you get back home and you'll (hopefully) throw yourself over your novel to get writing. Also! Can't hurt thinking about the novel when not actually writing it, cause who knows? Suddenly you just might get that idea that's gonna solve all your plot problems.
5. Keep a large bottle of water next to you. When you don't know what to write next, close your eyes for a second and have a zip of water, it'll pull you back on track in no time.
6. Don't know what's gonna happen in the next chapter? Don't know what's gonna happen in the next sentence? No problem. Keep those fingers flying over they keyboard anyway. Whatever seems bizarre or out of place might turn out to be one of the best passages of the novel in the end, and besides, when you edit in December you'll be able to get rid of all the stuff about it you thought was crap when you wrote it.
(Someone had also written the tip "tie yourself to your chair", but I figured that one's not really of my taste.)
That's it! A little peptalk for herself is what the Poet has just written. It's strange, you know, there aren't many that even believe in this, they think I'm crazy. My Mum especially, who's always been the one to believe in me and my writing, thinks it's just a load of bullshit, cause it brings my focus off school and everything. I thought she'd be happy and enthusiastic about it.
But what the heck. I got you guys to back me up!
See you soon!
PS. I've heard week two is the worst. So by the end of this week everything'll go smoothly again. DS.

Imagery

I live inside a mirror,
imaging myself
Always stay within it,
my protected shell
If I keep within this fantasy,
I protect myself from hell
Cause that's all I see in reality,
where all you others dwell.

Hit 10,000

Just hit 10,000 words, ladies and gentlemen!

Priorities

Slowly, but surely. The process moves onwards. Parallelling my novel project with exam weeks at school haven't been the easiest, but it's allright, you know, I'm getting there. I'm gonna skip the exam retake on Friday and do it next spring instead. There's no way I can make both the regular studying, study for the retake, and do the novel thing, at once. I've made my priorities, and the novel comes before the retake; the novel writing month only happen once every year, the retakes are done four times a year. Yeah. You get the point.
I've just started a really exciting passage in the novel where one of my main characters... hmm, I wonder how much I should tell here? Well, at least it's fun to write. In about, let's see... 398 words, I'll be up in the magic number 10,000 words, and that's only one week into the project. A little behind, but I'll see if I can catch up with some of that tonight. Anyway, 10,000 words is truly amazing - I can't believe I've kept my interest alive for this long! - and it also means, I've done as much as one fifth of the end result of 50,000. If I can keep this going, by writing my daily 1,667 words, and gain like, 200 words extra every day, I should be able to catch up with those missing five percent before long.
It's gonna be interesting to see how the second week evolves!
A, B, C, Dreaming Of Grammar, D, E, Dreaming Of My Novel, F, G, When Will I Study? H, Close My Eyes And See My Lecturer, IJKLMNOPQRSTUV, That Was A Writing Frenzy, Yeay, W... X... Y... Z... Last Part Comes... Really... Slowly... Says The Poet.
You Know Which!

Madness

I close my eyes
beneath your lies
I close my mind
to the madness

I cross the line
and press rewind
Put out your fire
Your madness

Why's it all in black and white
when contrasts come alive?
I want the colours
All revived
What you see
through the eyes
of a child

Of all the signs
I'll never find
What makes all this
Such madness

But bet a lie
And I'll bet mine
That some derives
From sadness

Why's it all in black and white
when contrasts come alive?
I want the colours
All revived
What you see
through the eyes
of a child

Critical Eye

I've just discovered something: that I can't read anything, nor can I write anything, without seeing it with the critical eye. I guess it stems from the literature course, but still, when I look at what I'm writing in my novel now, for instance, everything seems to mean something, whether it's the story as such that has deeper layers or simply the form I choose to write it in. It's fascinating, really, you know, I didn't know much about this stuff before we did literature class, and now I'm soaked through with it. I interpret everything from the basis that everything might mean something completely else than it does on the surface; implications and suggestions are everywhere.
It's actually so much fun I wouldn't mind taking some more literature courses, and keep working with symbolism and all that.
Gosh, my eyes feel like they're glued together... I'm so tired, it's been a long day in school and I'm completely exhausted. But before I can get to bed today I got to do my share of writing, plus homework. Hope it won't take as long as it did yesterday.
Poet In The Jar Says Something.

All Hallows' Eve

I'm so dead, got like three thousand words left to do today in order to catch up with the novel-writing... that's what you get when you don't do it everyday, I suppose. The whole thing is pretty cool though, I mean, what if I actually manage this, and actually get it all together, then in less than one month I'll be able to entitle myself novel writer... Cool, huh? Who cares if it ever gets published, haha!
Just for fun, here're the pics from yesterday's Halloween Party at our place. These are from Danny's cam, didn't put 'em all up but they oughtta give you an idea. When I get hold of the rest I'll edit the post, and you'll probably find an update in the News Reel when so happens. Anyway! After we'd been at our place we went to my favourite club in town, GG, and having worried all night if I was gonna be the spoiler of everyone not getting in (I mean, my birthday's still a month away), the guy at the door just looked at my ID and went, like, "Thank you, very welcome". So my worries were apparently a waste of time, haha.
Listen, people, I'm gonna be pretty absent this way all month because of exams and frantic novel writing and other juicy goodies, but I'll try my best to keep daily posting up. You'll know where I am if you don't find me here (in my books for school/in my book... my own book), haha.
Now cheers, fellas.
Edit: Got Siri's pics off Facebook, comments and all are up!










Watch out, Bond (Simon) and Pirate Man (Johnny)! Sniper (me) at the back!









"The Devil (Jessie) and Danny" - doesn't that sound like the title of a good book?









Me, trying to look threatening. Or whatever may have caused that facial expression.









Cheers! Says the Queen (Siri).









...and I'm praying for all my life's worth, please don't give me this priest (Nikki) for my wedding.









Nice posers there!









Ah, I love my rifle.









And Danny loves his revolver! (And Sofia!)









This one's in here mostly cause the freakish look on Nikki's face!









Dance, dance...! The 1920's gangsta (me) and Dr. Acula (Christian) shakes the floor.









The zombie priest is trying to bite me...! And look, the Devil isn't even trying to help. Bad Devil!









Hmm, here James Bond has gone Teskedsgumman. (Sorry... Swedish cultural reference that just slipped. Cut me some slack, I'm hungover as hell...)









When this deadly pirate skeleton type of man... eh... you get it... burst in through the terrace door, guess how startled I got on a scale of one to five. Five. There, I did the guessing for you!









Hands up baby, here's the second half of the Saturday Night Mafia.









In this pic, threatening his gangster babe with his silver gun, although she seems happily unaware!












Dr. Alcoholic Acula...?












Oh, sorry! Not alcoholic, just plain dead.









And here he is seen fraternizing with the zombie priest.









Two pieces of the gangster mob doing business with the Devil.









... who seems to be happy about the deal!









Oh here's James Bond in a more proper fashion, along with the Queen.









Dr. Acula was a high-lifer in front of the cam, we can see why!









Who's the boss??









And finally, me and Jessie in a happy fashion!

Want pics from the club? Some of them are pretty cool. Check them all out here.

Got It Settled

Right, fellas! So this is it! In less than three hours, this year's writing frenzy begins.
Goal is, to write a novel of 50,000 words in 30 days. And I'm not alone. Nanowrimo estimates this year's number of participants to be about 90,000 worldwide. Pretty cool, huh? Well, I figured it was. This I'm doing to heave my writer's block when it comes to prose and longer stories. Hopefully, within a month, I'll have written my first pure-form novel, and if I don't make it, well, then I'm hell of a lot closer to doing so, then I am right now.
I got the opening line buzzing in my head, just waiting for the clock to tick over to midnight so that I can print it out. See, rules are, no pre-writing. So in my head, I got my plot, got my main character, got my beginning and got my ending. I even know exactly how to sound the very last two lines. And beyond that - I even know what's gonna happen in the sequel!
All of a sudden, I feel it's fun to make things up again, to uncover stories, to create. I'm looking forward to this writing event like none other. It's gonna be very, very tricky to manage on time, no doubt, but deadlines 'ave always spurred me. I think it's gonna be great. Somehow, I think this story is better than any I've ever thought about before. It's gonna rock, ha, ha.
Now I'd like to ask you folks to do me a favour. Just in case you had the energy to finish reading this post. If within the month, I should ever consider quitting this thing, or feel that there's no time, or whatever, stop me. I don't wanna bail out the easy way. Not this time.
See you later, folks! And if you don't see too much of me during November, you'll know why.

In My Vocabulary

Thought I'd drop by today, dunno how long it's been since I did an old-fashioned, straight-from-the-heart-kinda-post here, everything that pours outta me lately seems to be songs... As some of you might have noticed already, I've been messing around with the look of this site more than I've actually spent on its content, well, that aint really true I know, but that's what it feels like. Anyway. My head feels so empty, I don't even know what to write. I even dream about grammar exams. Earlier today when I was for once playing AO with my Ruby, I was supposed to say 'I left it in my inventory' but made a Freudian slip and out came, 'I left it in my vocabulary'. Pretty much proves the point of how much time I've spent studying these last couple weeks. It's been crazy. And it's nowhere near over yet. First exam's on Friday, my linguistics retake next week, and then the linguistics exam for the second subcourse, in the week after that. Meanwhile we got to write an argumentative essay, read two fiction books for the literature course, and perform some kind of pedagogical presentation for ELTA (English: Learning, Teaching and Assessment, I know, it's dead dull). Then I have two wonderful weeks of apprenticeship with my fucked-up mentor to look forward to, wohoo!
Ah well, I don't really feel like I care anymore, anyway. Recently I've had some serious thoughts about leaving the teacher trainee programme. It just... doesn't feel right, doesn't feel like it's what I wanna do. And I'm thinking about at least skipping a term or two to study film science. My dream is to get into this education in Gothenburg for a film director, but it's really hard to get in there... Well, thought it couldn't hurt to study some film courses, at least. And if I don't end up doing this film thing, I'm gonna take two more terms of English, cause that'll earn me a doctorate... that'd be awesome!
Well, I haven't dared bring this up with Mum and Dad yet, so we'll see how it goes. For now, all I know is that next term is free of apprenticeship, and I'm so gonna enjoy it!
See you soon, folks!

Other Side Of Tomorrow

Hush, hush
Don't sleep
Gotta keep our eyes
And ears open (x2)
Open, open

I wanna see the other side of
Tomorrow
I have all these dreams I never got the
Chance to live out
I wanna go further than I ever been before
Oh I never got the chance to work them places out

Hush, hush
Don't sleep
Gotta keep our eyes
And ears open (x2)
Open, open

Would you put me in your pocket
Just for tomorrow?
Then I swear we'll have the time to get our feelings
Figured out
Would you take me further than I ever been before?
We'd survive and surviving's all it's ever been about

Hush, hush
Don't sleep
Gotta keep our eyes
And ears open (x2)
Open, open
____________________________

Wrote this song the other night when I couldn't sleep, thinking all sorts of irrational thoughts and picturing the most surreal things in my mind. Sometimes it just feels as if it would be easier if we never slept. We'd never miss out on anything, we'd never have to worry about being caught off-guard. We'd never have to have nightmares, or have those wonderous moments when we've fallen asleep during the day and wake up, not knowing the time or the day. It'd all be so easy. This song is about keeping quiet, never sleeping... all simply in order to survive the day. Or, pardon me, survive the night...

Only Fair

If it's okay for you to dream,
and you've learnt your way in life
Why couldn't I?
Why shouldn't I?

If you know what freedom means,
and you live with it in mind
Why couldn't I?
Why shouldn't I?

It's only fair that I get my share
And align with my ideals
And if I never make it there,
I'm sure it's still better than here

If you can guide yourself to truth,
so lies won't come around at you
Why couldn't I?
Why shouldn't I?

If you can choose,
then why can't I?

It's only fair that I get my share
And align with my ideals
And if I never make it there,
I'm sure it's still better than here

Should I ever make it there
I might finally know who I am
And if I ever get even half my share
I'll split it with you if I can

It's only fair that I get my share
And align with my ideals
And should I never make it there
I'm sure it's still better than here
_______________________

I wrote this just now, result of the usual, mad creativity rush that always strikes me at midnight...

Better Taste

Don't reach out
Don't take my hand
Don't reach out
Cause you won't get it back

It takes one to know one
And I know you as a fool
Still in secret I may dream of you

Know better than accept my care
I love you to deceive
The hate in my love tastes better than
Any other love you'll see

Don't reach out
Don't take my hand
Don't reach out
Cause you won't get it back

A penny for my thoughts and dreams
Don't it have a better use?
Still in secret I'll be free, with you

Know better than accept my care
I love you to deceive
The hate in my love has a better taste
Than any love you'll see
Than anything you believe

Don't reach out
Don't take my hand
Don't reach out
Cause you won't get it back
______________________________

I wrote this on the train home earlier tonight, inspired by a movie I'd just been to. It's very rare for me to write a ballad, so this is an unusual means of expression to me. The message of these lyrics is what lifts 'em though, rather than the form it may take.
I'm too exhausted out of all my studying to write any more than this, but I thought you might enjoy it. I'll keep posting often as I can now that we enter examination weeks. Catch you later, fellas.

Wiping Your Willow

The sound of your Voice
is my Lullaby
The Warmth of your Skin
my Pillow
Holding your Hand is how
I Sleep at night
Wiping the Tears
from your Willow

It's almost ungraspable knowing how much we have to do this week in school. My sleep has been all crazy too, so by the time I get home, I go straight to bed, or as in the case of today, straight to the couch. And I sleep. Wake up out of hunger after a couple of hours. Fix something to eat... or eat something that my Ruby's fixed to eat... and then go study. I've been studying since around eight o'clock tonight and I still have ten pages left to read that I just seem to be able to stare at, without comprehending what it says. Hopefully I'll be able to catch some of the rest on the bus down tomorrow or maybe by lunchtime. I'm feeling really creative and I started this drawing today that I really want to finish... aint that some irony? The times you got the most stuff to do, is when you feel the strongest urge to do other things. Well, that's what I find.
See you around, people.

Mary Christmas

Right, figured it out, this C level thing. I think... I signed up for two courses, hope I did it right. Otherwise it'll be hell breaking loose when Christmas holidays are over.
About Christmas! Me sis's coming down round December 19th, plan is, we both abandon our respective fellas and spend Christmas at Grandma and Grandpa's place. It'll be great. We used to go there every other year when we were kids and usually, all the relatives on me Mum's side'd be there and all. I like it when a lot of people gather round to celebrate together.
Been at work all day, just got home. I'm exhausted, but okay. Somehow I'm pretty happy about things. I'll just stay tuned while the guys keep watching the football game, after that I'm gonna go social and watch a movie with the folks.
Stay busy!
Says, Well You Know Bloody Who By Now I Hope.

Soon In Level With The C Level

I'm sitting here in front of the screen, trying to figure out whether I should register for the C-level literary essay or the C-level linguistic essay or, possibly, if I'm going to have to sign up for them both. Hope not, hope I can choose... but I aint sure. Better try and get hold of someone in the class who knows so I can register in time, sometime before Monday.
That's about all, I'm gonna go finish the last chapter of Gulliver's Travels so I can happily join in on the seminar next Tuesday.
Cheers, mate!

Happily Daydreaming

I'm drop dead tired, my eyes are drooping and I'm practically falling asleep over my keyboard... but... listen to this! I've finally finished the third temple in Zelda: Twilight Princess! Oh well... actually it was mostly Nikki, haha, but I did manage to kill the boss all by myself. Aah, I could die a happy woman right now, haha. No really. I got class tomorrow and I really ought to bed myself. Ha, ha... Good nightie.
Says, Poet In The Jar, Currently Happily Daydreaming.

The Lord Is My Shepherd

I fade into darkness
So full and complete
I leave you alone with your grief
Embraced by tomorrow
Embraced by defeat
I leave you alone
And so hollow
No matter our past
or where I will sleep
You will still stand alone with your sorrow
No matter the promise
You swore you would keep
I have gone to where no one can follow
Cause the time I was given
I just got to borrow
I've gone to the rest of the sheep
The Lord is my shepherd,
But your secret's safe with me.

Don't You Know?

Don't you see?
I thought maybe you knew
I have duties to'rds my
Loved ones too
You need someone strong
To cover your back
It's just that strength
I apparently lack
We're impossible in many ways
I just don't feel like that... nowadays
It breaks me to tear you apart
And make you go
But it's all I can give you
Don't you know?
______________________

Found this in an old poetry book the other day, fixed it up a bit. I know it's pretty old, but what the heck, enjoy it anyways.
Me and Bad Seed are working on something, I'll come back about the details later on. It's gonna be cool, I think.
Fear not! We shall meet again,
says the little Poet in the Jar.

Competence

I thought that I was on to something,
That I was going the right track,
but now you've robbed me of my self-esteem,
and I've been trying to get it back,
You wanted me to struggle, you wanted it rough,
You made me think I wanna take my life,
But I guess I'm not competent enough!
_____________________________

Wrote this in my head during class yesterday, the tutor I got seems to believe I'm completely incompetent of anything that goes beyond handing out stencils. Also, today was the eleventh time he called me by the wrong name, even though I've been his apprentice for nearly one month altogether. If anything's to be done around there I have to do it myself, he doesn't tutor me at all but use me to go fetch things, and the worst part is I can't stand up to him cause he's the one who'll be determining my grade later on. I'm starting to make things happen best as I can. Monday morning I'm responsible for going through a new grammar chapter and I'm gonna do it incredibly well, just as to show him how it could be done by a teacher who's not as fucking narrow-minded as he is, pardon the curse. I found out last Monday that there's another apprentice coming next week, and I thought, yeay, here's someone who'll support me, we can watch eachother's lessons and learn stuff from one another, cause we're students, right? We aint supposed to walse in on some school and perform the most perfect lesson, partly because there aint no such thing as a perfect lesson, but mainly because we're there to learn, not to show off. We're there to try and learn the profession in reality, instead of reading about it in some book at the university. And what do I get? She drops by to pick up a schedule for next week, turns to me and says, "Oh, and by the way, you do realize I'm going to make you leave the room whenever I got my lessons, right?" She doesn't even know me! I didn't believe what I was hearing, but the tutor looked at me and went, "Yeah, I think that's a good idea too." Hard to believe I don't feel very welcome at that place, isn't it? Besides, if she makes me leave the bloody room so she can bloody perform her "magic" lessons, those are hours I can't count in as such I've been helping out with, meaning I might not get full attendance despite the fact that I been present all the time.
I don't understand why they are so against me. I know I am a highly competent teacher trainee. I taught English to kids this summer that arrived with a hatred of the subject and left after two weeks with a "Pass" and will to try. At my last VFU school I got to lead loads of lessons. And now I'm stuck with a guy who recommends the newbie teacher by the next desk to "just stick with the book and you'll do".
I'm surprised they didn't tell us about this at the university. Sucks.

Patching Up Sleep

Lay here with me
Pray here with me
You may stay
Here with me
Just don't lie
Don't do lies
Around me

You may never have been very far from me
But there are times I can't find you
And thus I find you to be
Just be my stitches should I ever bleed
And watch my sleep if there's ever a need

Lay here with me
Pray here with me
You may stay
Here with me
Just don't lie
Don't do lies
Around me

Darling, there's been rough times I know
But I think we could make it
If we had a go
I'll be your stitches should you ever bleed
And be in your dreams if there's ever a need

We'll never need those lies

Lay here with me
Pray here with me
You may stay
Here with me
Just don't lie
Don't do lies
Don't do lies
Next to me

Tap Water And Savings

Just one more post, and I'll go to bed.
Know what I did today? Made up plans for me budget. And it don't look good. Is it s'posed to be like this, you got so many bills that when you've paid for 'em all you got 200 SEK, dunno what that is in dollars but like, 20 bucks or something, left. And you're s'posed to live on that for the rest of the month? Food alone usually lands at like 1000 SEK, guess I'll just have to skip eating, or well, I could live pretty long on the food I've got stuffed in the freezer, and to that I could always have tap water. Milk, who needs milk? Oh, for the cereal... no worries, we'll just have bread for breakfast long as that lasts, and then... then we'll have tap water. Again... Ok, sure, so what if I got 200 SEK left after the bills been paid, I thought, if I take a solid one thousand off my savings account, I'll manage this month, and put it back next month... but then I realized, I'd forgotten to bring my bus card into calculations, and that's another 900 SEK that I aint got. Savings account, again. I could ask me folks to sponsor me if it weren't for the fact that they already gonna sponsor me insane bill for the electricity - 1,800 SEK. What am I gonna do? That money I'd saved were s'posed to go to buy stuff for my new apartment, now I gotta use it to survive the month out. Hate it!
Worst part is, all these bills, are only the most necessary stuff - the rent, electricity, phone bill, Internet, course books... TV license, even.
Does it still come as a surprise to you, Ruby, that I don't wanna hear you got 16,000 SEK salary for last month's work?
Hate pondering over money.
Yours,
Poet in the Economically Insubstantial but too Proud to Accept Help Kind Of Jar.