Glass

Some days I really wonder. What am I doing here? And why do I even try? It’s hard to try and find a place to fit in when there’s these things working against you and most of them are internal. To feel liked and loved but at the same time have huge problems with intimacy and body contact. (Can hug people I like even in public. Handshakes with strangers are uncomfortable. I can’t make firends without the Internet, don’t remember how. Trust me when I say that my biopic will have the title There Will be Issues.) To don’t have a clue about the social protocols and being forced to guess or at worst more fail than not on trail and error. To let people in without really knowing how to do that as the walls — cracked and ruined as they might be — still proves to be in the way and with marked no safe route around.

I don’t want life to be a form of looking in through a window but mostly that’s what it seems like. And most people don’t look up when I knock on the glass. The worst part is that I don’t know if I’m happy about the window or not. 

On the floor, technically on a mattress, with the laptop on a stool and a wacom board in my lap. It’s pretty dark and my host is asleep (that made me sound like a parasite…). The Unthanks in headphones and it seems as if they’re here, circling around me in the darkness, whispering words of comfort and despair.  It’s a pretty decent life right now, possibly since I’m away and that somehow always manages to make things seem better — even when things go wrong.

Perhaps there are stuff in the air here, or it’s easier to ignore the bad

Met old friends and some I’d like to have as new friends today. Even if — this is a theory I have — that happiness is a form of queasy stomach, it’s at times preferable to the alternatives. 

I can’t lie. Just to feel the Uppsala ground underneath the feet felt good. To walk inside the door of The English Bookshop — despite the fact that this was the first time in their new location for me — all this almost made me cry. To spend a few hours with friends I hardly see anymore…

Yes, I’ve had a few beers. But slightly inebriated or not, the facts don’t change. I just wish I would have hugged everyone.

So today I got all worked up and if the table hadn’t been pushed against the wall, I swear I’d run around it in circles screaming “Oh my fucking god!” over and over. What sparked this exalt? I found out that someone had digitalized Oldrich Menhart’s typeface Manuscript — the digital is called Manuskript Antiqua. (The people on MyFonts that has lowered the score to 3.8 out of 5 are dead to me. They have no idea what makes a great typeface.)

I don’t own this of course, but just the knowledge of its existence is enough to put a dent into my gloom.

Trying hard to grow into dreams instead of out of them. It’s not easy but I know that if I don’t, there will be even more self-contempt. And I got enough of that as it is, and I think it’s one of the things that keep the self-esteem in such damn small doses. There’s no room.

I haven’t slept. The probability that this will get to me later is fast approaching 109%. Sleep is one of those things I need, used to be able to function on a whole lot less but I think the medication screwed up that a bit. Anyways. Just a few more hours awake than usual and I already want to curl up.

These kind of days I hate:

• When the self-image takes a dive from the already low point.
• When a full blazing sun that makes every move into a sweat factory.
• When everyone ois out there having a life. Left behind, yo.
• When there’s so many thunderstorms that you get Internet withdrawals.
• When life deals you pineapples. In the head.
• When cookies don’t feel like they’re enough.

Today has, sadly, been the first and last one. These cookies are not enough, they don’t help at all.

Whenever people talk about where they live and you can tell by the tone and the words used that they truly feel home, I want to go there. Be it San Francisco, Austin, Berlin, Toronto, Brighton, Stockholm, Uppsala, wherever really. I want to go there as in right now — nevermind that i might have been there before, it might be different this time. Just go and try and see what they see and possible even find some place that even I can call home. A place instilled with contentment and belonging. I don’t think I’m asking for too much, but it’s hard to find when it’s not there.

I don’t even feel like eating a cookie.

You know how it is, when you lie down to sleep all the thought keep hitting you in the face. Slapping you wide awake when you almost, almost fell asleep. Last night there was lots of rain and it was a bit chilly and perfect sleeping weather really. But then came the brain. Obviously I’m the kind of person who weep when reminded of friends I see far to seldom. Seriously. You can smell the tears on the pillow if you want. (Smell them damn you!)

Moral of this is that force me to choose between my friends and you’re the first one out. And it’s almost too easy to make me cry.

Being in a hick town means around here that from time to time there’s a surge in free verse Christian communities. It’s been quiet for quite a few years now but today I heard song and a PA system from a direction where there had previously been pentecostals. So it might be those that have returned.

It’s Sunday, I want to lie on my bed and read and listen to good music. Their songs are not what I consider good music — give me some Woven Hand or the Handsome Family! And a PA system? In the middle of the town? Sheesh. I had to listen to the Velvet Underground’s the Quine Tapes a bit louder that usual. (I’m not one of those who must have music really loud, so it might have been normal volume to some of you.)

Anyways. The forty minute version of Sister Ray is amazing. Had it existed on soundcloud this would have been an audio post.

Just now noticed that I’ve gone 54 posts past 4000 here. That’s about 1000 posts of gibberish a year. Cool. At times it feels as if I write and post far less but then when I look back I notice that no, I didn’t. The mind is an odd beast.

It’s also not well, still, and this has been reflected in what I’ve drawn today. I probably will not post anything of it. It’s far to morose. Anyways, if I could I would hug you just because. All of you, including you the quiet in the back. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you.

Three gifs that at the moment say everything there is to say.