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women in aviation [self-portraiture]so everyone’s fucking up greatly articulating stressing affection and suspect care that i’m “not eating” and they’re all displeased, accusatory with me for not providing tolerable reasons or believable answers, brushing off their inquiries with volatile noncommittal replies like “it makes me feel… ill.” or the all around puzzling “i can’t. it’s okay, but i can’t.” disfigurement, blood without depression and depression without blood closely impossibly near to disintegrate my () i'm somber and worried but not actively about parts of my health, i might need something like electric shocks or all i might need, tenderness. why does the word porcelain come to mind.

on my graduation day i had on a honey coloured dress, discharging the unwritten rule that girls should always Wear White on this occasion, such nonsense, so droll— and had to present myself inside the city park irrationally early in the morning with scants of my class mates who drank champagne and ate strawberries, i couldn’t and didn’t relate to the festive mood; many tried to initiate conversation, asking about my choice of clothing and other things that failed to penetrate the slow processing of my mind, i was too hypnotized bothered by the smothering humid weather and growing crowds of soon-to-be-graduates, stared instead elsewhere with disinterest and subverted suffering, anxiety. the entire day went wastefully by without attachment of any of the charm that everyone else seemed to feel and enjoy, i grew immensely tired with the uproar and untiring celebration, in the assembly hall i was called up on stage and had to get up in front of hundreds of unfamiliar faces to receive an “award” for Best School Project of The Year together with K. i rose from my seat out of pure autonomy and politeness, didn’t actually reflect about it until i was standing tall observed by audience and realized i had to remain there until every single one of the thirty or so people had collected their scholarships as well which would turn out to be more than surely twenty five godmotherfucking long minutes of unwanted stage presence secondary reaction my body refused to stop its encompassing trembling, i wavered in tension / muted panic, the girls lined up next to me whispered futilely helplessly “are you… okay?” feeling my subconsciously nervous shifting of positions and then i found i could in fact, not move at all. consequently K had to accept our award by herself as i proved unable to motion three steps forward when our names were called, i guess i should be happy i didn’t after all make a dramatic literal EXIT in terms of passing out or anything kindred . . . . . the evening feels so far off in both my mind and in terms of time, had barely recovered from the atrocity that was the awards when i met up with L & ID and crashed a party at a friend of a friend’s house + backyard: this turned out to be a blast, we were batting around giggling from too-much-to-drink - i cooed over the many cats stealing across the lawn limberly and without sound, praised one of my ex-classmates for making such a terrific dj (he played among other artists the velvet underground, of course he was to be commended) and came across C who i haven’t seen since january i believe this is not yet goodbye it's just () we have fallen peculiarly out of touching. L revealed by lighting a cigarette that she had taken up smoking, i peacefully gasped. people were chilling out in the grass, drinking mixed brands of alcohol, discussing and merry-making, i spoke my thoughts “well, it’s not completely obnoxious, everyone’s so friendly and nice, i like it here!” and (oddly) presented jaunty suggestions as how to Decorate with empty bottles in your garden. some hours later i made the disastrous decision to bid my farewells as i had free tickets to The Graduation Party held at grace and but so i left alone, riding in a car with strangers uptown and through as the death of day lay final in exigent quietude, collected my sister : arrived.

women in aviation [self-portraiture]i was appalled by the distortion, the dense&congested number of graduates attending, it took us half an hour simply to enter a bathroom stall in the ladies’ washroom and by then we were both approaching deaf due to the vocal volumes echoing mercilessly back and forth inside these insufficient dimensions - pretty much the very same scenario repeating itself all over again from our last visit to this club. reaching my stall as followed by long excessive queuing i felt like declaring in stone cold + severe hostility “any of you fucking pricks move and i’ll execute every motherfucking last one of you” but i didn’t, oh resistance . . . . at the bar i met K which comforted me a little, she has since left for three months in france and thus this was our last conversation, she was absolutely drunk, yelled into my ear “god, i think you’re amazing!” and didn’t even finish the sentence before she pressed her lips against mine and disappeared taking some other gentleman by the arm, curiosity : a curious girl indeed. everything dry and dull and dreary, people kept pissing me off with their lack of manners, a twenty-something guy sitting on a bench near me turned his head slightly around only to vomit “just like that” and it was such offense to me that i felt momentarily blinded. i leaned against a table setting my face to a manufactured FUCKING DO NOT TOUCH ME all ice, all ice, was left alone excepting an obviously bold young male who inquired something about 'my evening', i said insensibly “i want to Die.” he asked with pause “… do you want a drink?” i forbade him courteously to waste his money on me, he got me one anyway. he made comments on my clothing and jewellery, overall style, asked if “i was a feminist” — men as a rule and for some reason always need to Make Sure “i am not completely lesbian” before making any Advances — it’s only vaguely entertaining, the supposed novelty kind of wears off . . . . . i neglected him perhaps a little too brutally when helena came up to me, a girl in my class never truly known (i’ve never had the pleasure) but i always found her adorable radiating kindness she looked dashing in a dark green long flowing dress that she had apparently designed herself, golden pearls in her hair, said “i am so sad i never got to know you! i haven’t told you before but i think you seem so wonderful, really!” i smiled with candor, wrote a secret message for her to read and replied that surely we would meet again.

my boss yesterday. leaned herself casually over the monitors into where i was sitting and announced “you look fantastic!” i was wearing my new thrift-shopped ivory shaded jacket (as depicted here in this very entry) with little darling bows on the arms and pockets, dark pants and immaculate makeup. which is remarkable because i had to appear at work 6.3oam, had less than twenty precious minutes to conduct all my vain procedures and s t i l l accomplished arriving with startling punctuality looking utterly presentable. much more significantly : i’m falling more viciously behind each day, yes i’ve began working and it’s very stressful; the pendulum swings balance between order and chaos but at least there’s free coffee&fruit in unlimited amount every day and i have time to read anaïs nin during my breaks. her third journal was heartbreaking, spy in the house of love a deeply moving tale if one overlooks the once-in-a-while silly if not stupid expressions about sex, human intercourse that are almost laughable. i’m getting into extremely loud and incredibly close by jonathan safran foer as well, didn’t think it to be so earnest and yet full of humour, as i have let out a chuckle or two at work while turning the pages ... oscar is however a questionable character, read recently a review that mentioned something about him knowing all kinds of things seemingly obscure&unrelated for and to other ten year olds, but then had ask for what a mini bar was, which is i guess all true, and also just Details. other books of interest include (how proust can change your life), (the price of water in finistere) and i would love to someday read the words and experience the journals of (this) woman.

marilyn monroe.many more afternoons hanging out with hannah, she’s going through something of a Rough Time as she has been accepted to a school of fashion&design in denmark, copenhagen. she’s indecisive, unsure understandably and i would miss her insanely if she were to go although that’s beside the point . . . . this weekend has been the “midsummer holidays”, L and i decided to enjoy each other’s company over coffee; it rained lightly, i brought my dark brown vintage umbrella and we were stunned to find everything was closed, how scandalous. we were also the only ones to walk and meander the streets fucking ghost town desolation to desolation silence, wind and nobody there. finally we located a 24hrs fast food restaurant, scored free coffees with milk and apple pie, skimmed newspapers, pulled insider jokes : i’m always glad and it’s always special to see her. after parting i walked briskly to hannah’s apartment and we were supposed to have dinner&drinks at martin’s house, we went and it was a riot to watch him fitfully trying his best to manoeuvre the outdoor grill with a cigarette between his lips. half-way through dinner Fear gripped me, i couldn’t shut out inside outside in the chitter-chatter all-consuming sensations of blood loss, weightlessness withering bones in slowest motion i offered my sister little information (“i must go.”) and disappeared, drove home, disconcertion : it was still light for it to be past 9pm, on a bridge i drove past an older woman wearing a fuchsia jacket, leaning against the railing staring directly into the lowering sun and gleaming sea, she looked absolutely at peace. in comparison to ()

i have received a letter in the mail from eva, containing a small splendid polaroid picture that is now fastened to my wall, i love it plenty. some days ago i also had a completely mystifying encounter with () inside a coffee shop, i remain uncertain as to What Happened. but if i ever run into him again i’ll be sure to tell him just how much i like his voice. you don't know, how it affects me, the way something or One sounds. this tonight, a heavy rainfall creased with ominous thunder, terrifying beautiful lightning, i am thinking of a certain girl . . . . i’ve just taken upon me a morning shift at work on monday which i’ll surely regret once that day comes and i’m in desperate need of new shoes as my black wedge heels are unapologetically worn out and down. i’m being reminded by intermittent symptoms that i’ve forgotten to take my white little pills these days past, können sie mir etwas gegen die schmerzen geben. when will i ever learn, to take my fucking medication.
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it is always so lovely to check my friends' page and see
that you've updated your journal and i must tell you:
i adore you + your entries [+ your choice of title; did
you manage to see sedmikrásky?] + the images, you
are a lovely lady, and so was marilyn monroe.

somehow i wish i could tell you more than this, but alas,
today is not the day to think that my words could say
exactly what's on my mind; sometimes the thoughts
cannot be translated into words.

i have, however, found the most perfect little thing to
send to you as a [part of the] package, but i have a
question: would you mind a mini cd instead of a
regular one? that is the only kind that would fit the size
of the package, and also, which do you prefer - mp3/m4a
or the classic audio format [?]

i am listening to rio en medio, a lovely lady with a
sunshine-filled voice, absolutely delightful, and am
planning to watch the fog tonight with my mother;
in the meantime i think i'll start reading haruki
murakami's underground, have you read that one?
anyway, this comment is already awfully long and chaotic [...]

i hope you are going to have a wonderful sunday, darling. ♥
THANK YOU DARLING HEART this entry was long long
overdue & so i'm pleased i finally managed to gather some time and actually
post the goddamn thing(!) i have indeed seen + loved sedmikrásky,
so whimsical, fun and refreshingly subversive, i now want to see everything else
that vera chytilová has ever done (smile) . . . .

i wouldn't at all mind a mini-cd and out of those alternatives i
prefer mp3s. but really, anything is just as fine : arrange it
as you please, i'm simply t h r i l l e d endlessly at the thought
of having You appear in my mail. underground along with after the quake
are i think the only murakami books i haven't read. so you must
tell me what you think of it(!) i've just spent the evening watching
(my third or so viewing) frida and i cannot help but love it,
i love and am inspired by frida kahlo, her personal tragedy i sometimes
and distantly relate to it
i want my world traced by her paintings, forever.

i hope You Too have the loveliest of sundays, andrea.
i'm thinking of you. you in all your splendour, ♥

You are so fucking beautiful.
I was having such a low day today and your entry was like a light in the clouds. I love reading your writing and your experiences so much.
You should publish your journals sometime. They rival Anais!
thank you seriously. what a b e a u t i f u l
comment(!) you are definitely a light in my clouds, with these words,
your words, exceptional. if i ever have the supreme luck of getting my journals
(or Anything) published, i'll be sending a copy especially to + for you.
it will be tied with a ribbon, black. and blue. it's raining heavily this
morning “feels like i'm inside an aquarium” there's thunder in the distance
and i am hoping it will never, Ever


Anaïs Nin descriptions about the masculine constellation of men, give an important counterbalancing perspective. You wrote,men as a rule and for some reason always need to make sure “i am not completely lesbian” before making any advances. Do you think that exclusion
is a reason? I am very interested in how this entertains you. So tell me more about your erotic feelings. (*)
i have no idea if “exclusion is a reason” really,
all i know is that when i'm Out + About, men are specifically keen
to ask and know about my sexual preference. i'm faintly “amused”
each time because it's so fucking Dull. that they're so narrow-minded
stuck inbetween standards unprogressive “thinking within the box”
and unsure of themselves that they have to bring this up, every time.
they justify it with making exclamations about my short hair, my style and
way of dressing : surely i have to be “—” because i look a certain way!
it's also entertaining that they care about it at all, because. what really does
it matter (what's it to them) if i am into boys or i am into girls or i just don't
give a shit (all you need is love—) or i am not into Anything.

Deleted comment

i don't think that is creepy at all, what are (live-)journals
for if not to read them (smile) it's a pleasure
to “see” you here and i'll take the opportunity to say that y o u r
journal is actually one of my absolute my favorites, there's a sincerity to
your writing that i very much enjoy&appreciate, what you have to say
and how you say it. in short i just like “who you are” or seem to be,
how you present yourself. i hope now that we've both made our “hello's”
you won't feel the same lack of guts or words, i love that your name
appeared in my inbox. good day to you as well loveling and

+ Also, I agree, you are so beautiful. I love how intense your eyes are.
oh (blushing) !!!
Beautiful photos, a beautiful entry...

Perhaps men are only being polite in asking if you're a lesbian--- being unwilling to offend you by flirting if you prefer girls.

I hope my letter arrives...

Porcelain is a good word.

thank you(!) well, that would be quite a risk in itself
because then they would surely Offend if the person asked, was heterosexual
and not into girls at all . . . . they might be polite or they might be very
keen on/stuck within stereotypes, i suppose “it's a mystery”(!) (smile)
and in the bigger picture, it's all trivial, of no matter, one should move on to more
important, crucial things.

i am sure your letter will arrive and i shall tell you when it does(!)
time for b e d - i am to be up in less than six hours, woe. Woe.
goodnight goodnight



9 years ago


9 years ago


9 years ago

Elevation, relief, happiness... my cells are contently taking their rest, and patting their stomachs,
after having (in a highly feverish manner) feasted on this huge and wondrous-beyond-belief meal of
words - energy is now being created (well, energy is constant and never created, but you know what
I mean) and I am already feeling better than I ought to. ... You just wait until Pfizer finds out about
this journal of yours, Deserie(!); they'll be over you 24/7, trying to buy your priceless phrases.

Your life seems to be moving on, albeit not always in the most favourable of ways, perhaps? (I am
thinking about your porcelain-ness, and your stressful work).
At least you've gained a couple of experiences to add to the collection, and that's always something,
I suppose... ...which is not to say that the times of disillusionment one may endure are to be ignored
or underestimated, no; they're probably just as crucial to the constitution of ones existence as anything
else. ... And speaking of disillusionment: I am more than familiar with abrupt farewells and the feelings
that motivates them. I always do (did, when I had 'friends' and a life) like that. Sure, we may not
be sharing the same kind of sentiments here, but, maybe?
Anxiety is a pretty suiting word.
In any case, here is my tender gift - another digital hug(!): (>'-')> <('-'<)
It may help, just a little bit, momentarily.

Books. It is always such a pleasure to read about your literary adventures, and I have every title you
mentioned written down in my notes. Someday, they will all be mine.
I've been thinking about Françoise Sagan quite a lot lately - thanks to a certain film(!) - and there is a
particular work of hers that I wouldn't mind having read; Dans un mois, dans un an (In One Month, In One
Year?), but unfortunately I haven't succeeded in finding a translation of it, anywhere(!) One should at least
expect to find it in English, but no... no...
I'm curious about it though, and I will find it, eventually.
Ah, well.

People - men - inquiring into your eventual views and preferences... This I understand.
Or, at least I've figured out the logic they're using.
The thing is, that they are intimitated by your alluring grace - the beauty so eloquently portraited and
exhibited in the pictures above is an aesthetic phenomenon so hazardous to the enduring sanity of their
vain egos, that they desperately have to search for any kind of cheap pseudo-sign that will explain to them
why you're not in their immediate power - when you should be in their immediate power (according to
their narcissistic and self-conceited way of thinking).
Blaming their gender - by referring to 'feminism' and a certain kind of sexuality - instead of accepting that this
aesthetic phenomenon actually could be comprehended by the right kind of mind, is a very comfortable way
out of this situation.
I'd probably act in a similar way, if I was only slightly more stupid.
Anxiety always creeps up on me when I encounter beautiful people, and wanting to escape from feelings of
anxiousness is, after all, somewhat instinctively rational, so...

Anyhow, enough of my senselress ramblings(!), for today.
my life and that of others seems evidently, to move on.
my parents have bought a new house(!) we're moving at the nearing end of august
and i am not at all pleased since i adore this place, although it's
located “so far out” and impossible to leave out of free consenting will
unless you have a car . . . . but i love the surrounding nature
it's fucking spellbinding i love the nearness, its untouchable quality,
the vitality of it - it's to be found Nowhere Else and i'll miss it instinctively.
my sister has also decided to “hit it up” with denmark, attend the school in copenhagen
and she is leaving in august as well, which means i won't see her for many months, shit.
it's also around the same time that i will be jobless after having worked at BANVERKET
for three months, anxiety, uncertainty. august : an interesting month of radical changes
to be sure(!)

i hope you will find the book titles i mentioned here above and e n j o y . t h e m
i'm reaching the end of spy in the house of love and the foer one,
what to read next . . . . i might have to take a closer look inside my overflowing
book-shelf, who knows what i'll find there.

I'd probably act in a similar way, if I was only slightly more stupid.
HA! this line made me laugh. men are strange. people regardless of gender are
peculiar with their ways of behavior. i suppose that is (partly) what makes us Human.
i am currently at work and i am near-collapse-or-death since i made the less genius
decision to go out dancing last night. it's obscure, how i am supposed to Stay Awake
and appear Productive till 8.45 tonight, oh well. at least it was fun, appreciated to
get out properly for a bit and forget the Stress + Chaos that's been work as of late.

i have now an hour to kill before my next train call, i'm having coffee
and am feeling musically deprived. what are you listening to, loving as of This Moment?
recommend me tracks of delight & deliciousness(!) (smile)

the best of thursdays to you, joel. i hope you're getting lost in fictional worlds,
vivid imagery tracing dreams back in time
ex and oh




9 years ago

you are music


9 years ago

I adore Jonathan Safran Foer! I haven't read Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close (I will as soon as my bloody library gets the hold), but Everything is Illuminated was brilliant. I read it during the school year when I had absolutely no time to allow myself such a luxury & distract myself from my studies & found out how excellent his writing is. He's one of my literary role models, it's a fact.

The new photos of you are remarkable. You are absolutely beautiful, lovely girl.

Your “i am not completely lesbian” made me laugh. With me, unfortunately, men like to assume I'm heterosexual ... an assumption they regret 2.5 seconds later into the conversation. Perhaps it's a phase for me, but as of late, I've been finding men more & more repulsive. Hmm.
he is endlessly entertaining, i did not at all expect that from him
for some reason, and i'm interested in reading everything is illuminated.
right now i have started gertrude stein's the biography of alice b. toklas
and my opinion is embryonic, forming and shaping : but she's an incredibly fascinating
woman so i gather it will be a lovely read.

ah, but there's also the possibility that you are too mature for the boys
in your age, girls are generally much more “in tune” with each other in that aspect.
or you might just happen to meet so many fantastic girls that the boys pale inevitably
in comparision (smile) tonight i was supposed to attend some
gay night party/club thing but my friends seem to be either unconscious or “dead” so
it might not happen, tragically. on the other hand going-out-tonight would mean me
going straight from work Embracing The Night and considering i am working working working
the entire fucking weekend (inhumane! nonsense!) it might be for the best . . . .
“hm” &sigh.

>> and you shine, did you know that.
you write with a stark clarity that keeps me intrigued,
and that. is a beautiful thing, is simply beautiful, and so are you. xo
Rhapsody on a theme of Des. #2

Some Swedish belle wrote wonderful lyrics to this song!

Fallen (mp3)

Fallen (MySpace)
Fallen (myspace)