Happy Anniversary

Hiyo ho.
D'you ever wonder, you know, why people trouble themselves with the tiniest problems? It's like that Evanescence song, 'I know I can stop the pain, if I throw it all away.' Meaning: we know perfectly well we could cure this world if we were just willing to make some sacrifices. But we don't. And why don't we? Because the human race was equipped with two qualities when it was created: survival instinct, and greed. Actually, they might be hard to separate at times. It frustrates me to know. And all I can do about is ironize. (My own word, I think.)
Meanwhile, I'm enjoying the rare but rather intense sunlight. This warmth is unbelievable. Thirty degrees Celsius at least in direct sunlight. No wonder everyone's been complaining today. And there's another thing - why can we never settle for what we got and just be happy with it? So what, it's raining? Rain makes the trees grow. So what, it's thirty degrees? You can lie in the shadow of the trees. Instead of thinking like that, we complain that it's too cold in the winter and too warm in the summer. Hey, I'm glad we even got a summer here!
Today, it has been exactly one year since I graduated from upper secondary school. Happy anniversary to me! Same time I'm longing back to that irresponsible, wild and crazy time before all the tough things happened, and when I was still an independent, strong young woman, I am so glad we've got it overwith. You know why? Well, look at how much has happened since then! Look how different I am! Look what I've been through! 'Course there have been rough times, but no evil ever comes without any good along with it, and you gotta admit, you learn some pretty useful lessons out of rough times. This winter has lasted for ages. It's been as dark in my head and heart as it's been outdoors. But spring and summer has come, and it's lighting me up from the inside and out. I'm on fire, baby. Ha, ha. I'm really looking forward to this summer, I hope it will be one I will never forget. And hey, I'd say the odds are kinda good for that.
Got some time on my own now before Nikki gets here. Yeay =) I could use some private time. I'll probably waste it on something useless, but I don't mind. Mum and me have already cleaned the entire apartment. So I think I can afford it.
Private time for Poet now! Shoo, shoo!

Stupidity, Stubborness and Denial

Something is very wrong with this world. Or should I say the people in it? I am almost lacking words to describe the incredible stupidity, stubborness, and denial, that some people possess. What happened to the golden rule, to common sense, to doing good? Suddenly I find myself naive for ever having thought that those things were even current on this planet. People who live in frustration take it out on someone else, anyone who's weaker than them, so they can feel powerful for once in their life, so they can feel the rush of complete dominance over an innocent soul. When you cross the line, you break her whole being, she'll live the rest of her life with constant glances over her shoulder and constantly denying chances to be loved, afraid that what you did to her will happen again. But hey, it's a win-win situation, innit? You get to feel powerful, first during the act of ill will, greed and desire, and secondly when the court frees you and you leave the inquiry room as a free man, able to do it again, and again, and a hundred times more, to a hundred other girls, cause you can be sure that they'll free you every time. And she gets to be taken by a man. Surely that's what every girl wants, right? Who's gonna believe a 19 year old girl if she claims the opposite? Imagine this. A man is walking down the street, adjusting his watch, when it is snatched out of his hand by a pick-pocket. Then imagine this. The thief is being charged, and his defence asks the man with the watch the same kind of questions they would ask the victim of a brutal rape. Were you flashing the watch in the open? Were you drunk when it happened? The defendant never heard you say no to having your watch stolen. Besides, is it true that you've been giving away watches in the past? That concludes it. You can only blame yourself for being robbed in that situation. Hear how ridiculous that sounds? Well, listen to this: Were you flashing your skin? Were you drunk when it happened? The defendant never heard you saying no to having sex. Besides, is it true that you've been having a lot of sex in the past? That concludes it. You can only blame yourself for being raped in that situation.
It's a shame for us all that this is the reality for rape victims in this country. Women don't have a say in the matter. Suit yourself if he mollested you, you were standing there in a mini-skirt, so what did you expect? Strange how no one tells the man with the watch that if he hadn't worn that Rolex, it wouldn't have happened. Geee, salvate us, someone.
POET in the JAR

A Moth Reborn

"What kinds of people are there, Daddy?"
"There are all kinds. Even those you wouldn't think exist, exist."
- Me and my father in discussion

Some won't change. Some always change. Some have been the same all along, but you don't see it until you change yourself. You rearrange your life and the decorations in it. Ooops, there goes an old vase I used to like but suddenly find ugly, and wow, are these curtains new? I've never looked at them like this before. What I'm trying to say is that your eyes change, but not necessarily what's around you. I wish I could just press the contents of my life into a mixer and watch it whirl around, events replacing eachother, relations ending and starting at new points in time, appropriate points, cause what comes out is a perfectly blended, fresh-tasting smoothie. I wanna grab events from my past and put them in my present, and banish events from the present to the past. I wanna mess up my life, wanna screw it up so bad that God, if he exists, would have no choice but let me start over to make it right. And if that can't happen, I wanna leave this place and never come back, I could start over somewhere else. Another place would be my home, other faces would be my friends, I wouldn't be caught, I'd be free, and I would enjoy solistice for the first time in years. Out of imprisonment, out of your blue shadows, out of misery. Free as a bird, a moth reborn, I would fly... Fly and never land.
___________________________

The Hysteric One

Now that I'm home, I'm sitting here, looking at this mess, trying to gather even the slightest little energy to fix it. There are dirty dishes everywhere and the newly washed clothes spread all over the apartment. My school books lying on the desk, laughing at me, too tired to open them, too tired to study for my test. I've slept all morning, and I'm still sleepy, it feels as if I could sleep through anything. That's all I feel like doing, anyway. Don't want to be alone, don't want to be around other people. And I'm wondering, why doesn't everything just stop? How can people just, keep on living, keep holding on? Not only is that what everyone does, every stranger, every unfamiliar face, but it is what we do as well. Mum does, you know, and that bothers me the most. We're talking about the difference between life and death here, and all she can think of is 'what'll happen to the firm if I stay at home, sick?' So she ignores whatever instructions or recommendations she might have gotten from the doctor, who is the one with experience here, and she just keeps on working, keeps getting up in the morning and goes to work, even with the cancer spreading in her body, with every breath causing her heart to flicker and her lungs to tighten. Part of me wants to just run home and hug her and tell her how much I love her, and ask her, who am I gonna call if you go? Who am I gonna call? You can't leave me, you can't, cause if you do, I wouldn't know who to call! And I would stay at home with her, and take care of her, so she wouldn't have to do anything. Another part of me though, just wants to slap her in the face and tell her to grow up and start taking some responsibility, do you want your daughters to lose their mother, do you want your husband to lose his wife that he loves above everything, just because you were too damn stubborn to listen to the doctor? Too stubborn even, to listen to your own family?
And then, it's this thing my sister said that's bugging me. We talked about all this yesterday, I guess to process it a bit, and she says, 'I hate that Mom thinks I'm so strong. She tells me it's so nice to talk to me cause I don't go hysteric like you, Bekki. But the second she hangs up, I always cry. And I cry like there's no tomorrow.' And suddenly, I go: 'I'm the hysteric one? I don't want to be the hysteric one. I don't. Want. To. Be. The. Hysteric. One.'
I know that's what it's like, it's not that. It's just that I've always been very different from my family in some ways. Like the fact that my family is very practical in most situations. And when something bad happens, we solve everything that need be solved first. We can cry later, be sad later, mourn later, when we got the time. I don't do that, never have, and it's always gotten me into trouble, especially with my Mom, who doesn't understand why I'm different, you know. Time stops for me. Everything seems to be unimportant, except what I feel. And I take time to feel. I make time to feel. Cause if something happens, I wanna be able to say that time stopped, that everything turned upsidedown, that I lived in slowmotion, NOT that I just cleaned it up and waited for the time to come when it was allright to mourn. Is it so wrong to feel that you gotta let out your emotions, instead of carrying them inside you, letting them grow so badly that when they go off, they're like a nuclear bomb, not only affecting you, but everyone around you?
I used to feel I didn't fit in in my family, and I wanted out. Now that I am, I miss them. Oh God, how I miss them. And I just wanna go back in time, wanna relive my life, so that maybe I could have been better. I, I just wish I had been better. You know?

Oxygen's Going Low

'Are you writing about us? And what's happening here?'
'Yes. I am.'
'So then the people in your country will read it, and come to help us?'
'No... I don't think so. I think people might read it, look up from their newspaper and comment on how horrible it is, and then go back to dinner.'
Conversation from Blood Diamond
__________________________________________

They blindfold a ten years old boy. Put a rifle in his hand. Demand him to fire. And he does. Not aware of the young boy standing up that wall, until the blindfold comes off and he can watch him die. Honourable as his accomplishment is, it earns him a promotion.
Congratulations, Kiddo, another beer and smoke for you, finish it son, it'll quiet your hunger. Now come to me if you ever need anything and I'll fix it for you.
When the most innocent and loving there is in our world, the children, are forced into the machinery of war, and the rest of us only dare to watch and let it happen because of fear for our own children, you know you're in the right place. This is Earth. You got the right train. This is the right platform, the right station, and you got yourself a lucky one-way ticket.
Time after time, the human race proves to be incapable of caring for their own people. We serve ourselves and nobody else. There are two ways of surviving in this world:
One. About Lasting. Go through your life trusting no one but yourself, and you'll know you'll last longer. You're not gonna be hurt by yourself. You're not gonna leave yourself or fight with yourself. If you build a solid self to begin with, what others do will not affect you, and you won't find yourself lost of track when they do.
Two. About Value. Live with the motto, if I am gonna die, I sure want to be happy with what I did while I was alive. You may not last longer, but the quality of life will make up for that. Let people hurt you so you know how to appreciate healing. Let people leave you or mess with you so you know how it feels when they are close. Trust whoever you want to trust, leave whoever you want to leave. Try not to lose yourself in the maze, cause it happens easily.

Pick one or mix them both. They are completely different but mostly they're the same. I don't care. Oxygen's going low on me, and I'm gonna do what number Two says, that is, exactly what I feel like. Go to bed. Yaaaaaawwwwwn...

The People With The Axes

I had another nightmare this morning. It's been a while since last they came, but they haven't lost their power. Imagine yourself standing in the middle of a crowded room, and you're wondering why all these people around you are screaming. You look around. Everyone, including yourself, are wearing beige-coloured, unisex clothing. Many of those you see are clutching their own arms. Some are crying. There seems to be something horrible going on, somewhere close, and you can see how people are trying to move away from it, knowing that there is no where to go.

Slowly, you realise the reason for all the cries and the screams. Somewhere in this room, fellow humans are, neatly and as inevidably as the passing of time, slicing off the hands, feet and heads of the beige people, no way of knowing which feature they're going to pick when the turn comes to you. You turn. You run. Your fingernails are screeching on the glass of the windows. Your hands are fumbling with the ridiculously heavy chains on the doors. Your heart, pumping as quickly as never before, is trying to jump up out your throat, trying to suffocate your growing sense that
(I got a real bad feeling about this)
there actually isn't gonna be a miraculous rescue this time. That no one's gonna come for you, and that you're not gonna be able to save yourself like you always have, cause you're too dependent now, too dependent on the people with the axes who are holding the keys.
You panic.
Sweating from your nightmare, you open your eyes, flicker, hastily sit up, look around. Your familiar red bedroom walls. Your bed, your pillow, your school books... your boyfriend, soundly asleep... holding your keys. All the same. Same as it's always been, and as it'll always be, same old future rushing to face you.
And you panic.

Phantom of the Opera

3 A.M. we seemed allright

(Couldn't be better)
On our way into the light
Now 3 A.M. has gone
Along with when there's nothing wrong
3 A.M. we seemed allright
- POETS of the FALL

3 A.M. we seemed allright. We did, angel. But I'm losing myself now
In this maze of desires, I'm blind to guidance
and I don't know where I am, where I'm going, all I can say for sure that I've figured out is where I've already been. It aint supposed to be like this. It's supposed to be easy, god damn it. Someone, please lift this weight of my shoulders, let me spread my wings and fly...
All I want is some space. Let me be. Alone...
When I'm looking forward to something as plain as when I'll be able to order this T-shirt, and not to a time when my words can spread and affect the world out there... something's not right. I got the mask back on and it doesn't suit me. Why don't I just pull a Phantom of the Opera and go half-masked, half-apparent. Least that way I won't fade into a bleak copy of someone else. Least that way I'll be myself again.

I miss myself. I used to be strong. I used to trust only myself. Now I've become dependent on other people, and I hate it. I wanna break free. Got to. Have to... For my own sake. Got to prior myself... not others... the way a good friend of mine once put it...

The consequences of our actions are always so many, and so complicated, that we can never predict them
- Albus Dumbledore