Here, go and fall in love. :)
Thursday, 29 July 2010
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
Popular videos
I've been exposed to various videos on VOICE TV lately, due to my brothers insisting it be the only channel we may watch.
I've actually seen some really cool music videos.
NOW WAIT. THIS DOES NOT MEAN I LIKE THEM AS AN ARTIST, SINCE MORE OFTEN THAT NOT I DON'T LIKE THEM AT ALL.
However, the videos are quite kewl.
But yeah, I should make a list of my personal favourites some time. Later.
I've actually seen some really cool music videos.
NOW WAIT. THIS DOES NOT MEAN I LIKE THEM AS AN ARTIST, SINCE MORE OFTEN THAT NOT I DON'T LIKE THEM AT ALL.
However, the videos are quite kewl.
But yeah, I should make a list of my personal favourites some time. Later.
Saturday, 24 July 2010
Friday, 23 July 2010
I'm a die hard for love
Hey kids it's been a while. I've fully forgotten the hobo incident, have painfully removed my spontaneously acquaired fake nails and am eagerly waiting to get back to Holland.
In the past few weeks I've completely forgotten everything I am, in a weird strange way. I've been running around town doing Jim Morrison knows what with Nicki Minaj knows who (because I reject conventional religious figures).
I've turned myself into a bored, sit at home all day and stress, sort of person. Bitch please.
Sit down and teach me some rational functionalism relative to modern romanticism.
That would be good.
Or behavioural norms.
I miss you.
I want out of Finland, but for the time being I'll have to endure it. The more I run the further I'll get.
I've managed to forget all my school related things in Holland and thus cannot complete much of my assignments. I am royally
fucked.
Somehow sometimes, in that realm between falling asleep and being awake I have a feeling that the world I was in before this one is racing past me at a hundred miles per hour while I'm lagging behind still tying my shoes.
But that's just my imagination speaking.
What I've forgotten about myself is that ultimately I live for love, knowledge and creativity, as those lovely indie hipsters put it. I may not excel in any 3, or I may indeed, but it's something I've forgotten.
I'm an average 17 year old, and I don't want to care about anything except what I like and what I want to care about. I've forgotten what I like because I've been trying to fit myself somewhere where I won't fall out of. Kids, I still like what I liked when I began Lifetime of Lightbulbs
Jellyfish
Reading
Fashion
Art
Music (all kinds babe)
Cider, wine, shotsshotshots, but all in moderation
Love, sex and all the likes
Cinema, especially black and white, and French
Not being at home
Frannnnz
Pretty standard, but I had to remember that. There's more but I'm sure you didn't even make it this far.
Now it's time to go enjoy sitting in the park with cranberry cider and enjoy not being in trouble any more.
<3
In the past few weeks I've completely forgotten everything I am, in a weird strange way. I've been running around town doing Jim Morrison knows what with Nicki Minaj knows who (because I reject conventional religious figures).
I've turned myself into a bored, sit at home all day and stress, sort of person. Bitch please.
Sit down and teach me some rational functionalism relative to modern romanticism.
That would be good.
Or behavioural norms.
I miss you.
I want out of Finland, but for the time being I'll have to endure it. The more I run the further I'll get.
I've managed to forget all my school related things in Holland and thus cannot complete much of my assignments. I am royally
fucked.
Somehow sometimes, in that realm between falling asleep and being awake I have a feeling that the world I was in before this one is racing past me at a hundred miles per hour while I'm lagging behind still tying my shoes.
But that's just my imagination speaking.
What I've forgotten about myself is that ultimately I live for love, knowledge and creativity, as those lovely indie hipsters put it. I may not excel in any 3, or I may indeed, but it's something I've forgotten.
I'm an average 17 year old, and I don't want to care about anything except what I like and what I want to care about. I've forgotten what I like because I've been trying to fit myself somewhere where I won't fall out of. Kids, I still like what I liked when I began Lifetime of Lightbulbs
Jellyfish
Reading
Fashion
Art
Music (all kinds babe)
Cider, wine, shotsshotshots, but all in moderation
Love, sex and all the likes
Cinema, especially black and white, and French
Not being at home
Frannnnz
Pretty standard, but I had to remember that. There's more but I'm sure you didn't even make it this far.
Now it's time to go enjoy sitting in the park with cranberry cider and enjoy not being in trouble any more.
<3
Friday, 16 July 2010
Hobo and a girl
7pm. Still light.
It was raining lightly, but that didn't bother the hobo because he was downing his however-bloody-manyeth beer of the day. He wore his matrix-esque sunglasses slightly askew, possibly due to lack of attention rather than by intent. Lighter, ciggarette, mouth, draw, puff, sigh, sip, repeat.
A girl walked through the park the hobo was spending his time in, with blonde hair and red lips, brown trousers and a tye dye shirt, taking a short cut home because the city was getting boring. The hobo liked her look, or in his drunken stupor thought he did.
"Hey Marilyn, hey you you look like Marilyn Monroe!"
The girl kept on walking as if she hadn't heard a thing. The hobo thought she hadn't heard a thing. He wobbled up and set his beer down, which immediately spilled but the hobo didn't notice.
He grabbed her arm and said, as charmingly as he could, "Hey, you look like Marilyn Monroe. You're fucking beautiful." The girl looked scared, until a second later she said, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Finnish."
"Oh you're foreign well well well I like I love you let's go" He began pulling her.
"No, fuck off!" The hobo was startled, and for a second looked like he was about to cry. His big belly wobbled as he slouched, and the girl almost apologised for being so rude. Then the alcohol elevated his brain to a whole new level of emotion, this being anger. His face wrinkled in concentration and as the girl was about to open her mouth with an "I'm sorry but I really have to go" he drove his fist as hard as possible into her stomach.
Poliisi ei ole autoriteetti.
The police has no authority.
No kyllä ne vielä täällä päin sut putkaan voi laittaa.
Well they can still stick you in jail here.
Nii mut ei ne mun päätä koskaan valtaa.
Yes, but they'll never get into my head.
The hobo stood still, shocked as the girl stopped breathing and collapsed on her knees. Ohshitohshitohshitfuckfuckfuck. There was no one there to see, he walked back to his bench, calmly took the rest of his beers and lit another cigarette, and walked away.
The girl waited for her breathing to go back to normal, got up, and went home.
Pittää mennä kottiin kattoo stargatea! Mutten mää viiti ku siellä on se Eve.
It was raining lightly, but that didn't bother the hobo because he was downing his however-bloody-manyeth beer of the day. He wore his matrix-esque sunglasses slightly askew, possibly due to lack of attention rather than by intent. Lighter, ciggarette, mouth, draw, puff, sigh, sip, repeat.
A girl walked through the park the hobo was spending his time in, with blonde hair and red lips, brown trousers and a tye dye shirt, taking a short cut home because the city was getting boring. The hobo liked her look, or in his drunken stupor thought he did.
"Hey Marilyn, hey you you look like Marilyn Monroe!"
The girl kept on walking as if she hadn't heard a thing. The hobo thought she hadn't heard a thing. He wobbled up and set his beer down, which immediately spilled but the hobo didn't notice.
He grabbed her arm and said, as charmingly as he could, "Hey, you look like Marilyn Monroe. You're fucking beautiful." The girl looked scared, until a second later she said, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Finnish."
"Oh you're foreign well well well I like I love you let's go" He began pulling her.
"No, fuck off!" The hobo was startled, and for a second looked like he was about to cry. His big belly wobbled as he slouched, and the girl almost apologised for being so rude. Then the alcohol elevated his brain to a whole new level of emotion, this being anger. His face wrinkled in concentration and as the girl was about to open her mouth with an "I'm sorry but I really have to go" he drove his fist as hard as possible into her stomach.
Poliisi ei ole autoriteetti.
The police has no authority.
No kyllä ne vielä täällä päin sut putkaan voi laittaa.
Well they can still stick you in jail here.
Nii mut ei ne mun päätä koskaan valtaa.
Yes, but they'll never get into my head.
The hobo stood still, shocked as the girl stopped breathing and collapsed on her knees. Ohshitohshitohshitfuckfuckfuck. There was no one there to see, he walked back to his bench, calmly took the rest of his beers and lit another cigarette, and walked away.
The girl waited for her breathing to go back to normal, got up, and went home.
Pittää mennä kottiin kattoo stargatea! Mutten mää viiti ku siellä on se Eve.
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