I don't suffer from insanity - I enjoy every minute of it!

According to the online translation site that I always use my "knäck" [kn:ek] is translated into "toffee". I don't like that. It's not toffee, because it's not really that chewie or dry, so I just translate it literally into "crack". Mostly for the fun of it. 'So what did you do today?' 'Oh, you know, just some crack in the kitchen'. Yeah, I know, someone told me earlier. I'm weird.

I hate fireworks. They're loud and stupid and I know that I'm still gonna stand there like a moron and go "oooh" and "aaah" at midnight. Suppose I'm a moron too.

Time to get ready for the party - let's make this year end with a boom!

Gimme, gimme, gimme...

1. Make him smile.
2. Make him agree with you.
3. Flatter him.
4. Give him something.
5. Take what you want and get out of there.

I borrowed this from a book and I've actually never tried it... I'll put it on my to-try-list for next year, I think.

stars

Something is wrong.

!

I AM THROUGH WITH THE APOLOGISING!

Morons everywhere.

There's a person on my roof. I have no idea why he's there, but apparently he's walking. On my roof. That's a bit weird.

When I got up this morning there were one ambulance and two police cars outside my window and the first thought that springs to mind is "what have I done now?". After realising that they're not here for me, I wondered if my house were on fire and looked around. "No, the apartment seems rather unharmed." So no fire. And not me. What a wonderful opportunity to combine curiousity with business - I need to buy food and I have to find out why there's so many people outside my window.
And here I am now. And there's a person on my roof. I've been on a roof once. It's not all that it's cracked up to be, really. Of course this was the roof of a house with only one floor - but you get the point, right?
Oh, new info - apparently the roofman was high as hell according to the ambulance people. Well, I suppose that explains it. Jeez... See - this is why I don't do drugs.

Exhale.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I am shallow. Men usually get the blame for being shallow, but women are the same. I am almost 100% sure that every woman on the planet scan a new man and decide if she'd 'do him' within the first five seconds of their first meeting. Fine, the first ten seconds then.

January 23rd 2004:
"Imagine if you could change who you are. Change your whole persona and become someone else. Today that's actually not impossible. You can already get new fingerprints, new personal security number, change hair colour, eye colour etc. You can change your length, distort your voice or operate your face so that you don't look like yourself. Maybe you should take it one step further? Change your blood type or extraction. Or maybe you should just be happy with being the one you are? Happy about not being like everyone else without that extra something that makes you different? Do you really want to be perfect? I don't. I'm proud of my flaws. Even if I'm ashamed to admit it I would, if I had a child today, belong to the kind of poeple who would exclude certain possibilities. How would I exclude there? Well, with a certain kind of genetic engineering. It's possible to see, already before the baby is born, if it has some kind of damage, what gender it has, if it's more than one and so on... The question is only if you really want to know all this. Aren't you suppose to be surprised at birth and love your child no matter what it looks like?
Don't believe that I think genetic engineering is bad, because I don't - at least not in all areas. Research on stem cells that can help patients who suffer from haemophilia is very good, so is reasearch that helps people in suffering, for example HIV-infected. Research used to grow big tomatoes and other berries and vegetables does feel a bit pointless. So does cloning. I think you should let nature deal with that, like it does with for example potatoes, and not interfere.
No, let everything have its' due course. Although, you can change a little... Just a little..."

Did you know that it used to be fashionable to smoke? Doctors used to order 'a pack à day' - they even have commercials about it. That was about 70 years ago though. It's not really fashionable anymore. I think smoking is mostly seen as disgusting and a smoker is seen as someone who destroys him-/herself and the surroundings.
In the 16th century people used white powder on their faces. You've probably seen the pictures. Being pale showed that you were rich enough to stay out of the sun. Only workers got tanned. The white powder contained led, which was not only poisonous, but also irritated the skin and made it red. So what did they do? More white powder of course. I'm sure you laugh now, but think of all the people who have powder in their faces today. Oh sure 'it's tested', but you can never be sure. You can never know that in long-term it won't do damage.

January 28th 2006:
"I realised something when I brushed my teeth just now. People complain about today's ideals of the the 'beautiful person'; you're suppose to be tall, good-looking and have that extra special something. Reason number 1 to why people complain about this is that it's not a real ideal. Most people aren't tall, beautiful and grand and they don't have size 2 in clothes. The people who do are called 'models'. The thing about models are that they don't last very long in their business. Gotta be boring to be out after just a few years, well, if you don't become super-good. You know, get on covers, get booked for shows etc. etc. etc. into infinity. The fun thing about models are that it's the regular people who do something of them. Sure, they have to be 'discovered' by someone, but we're still the ones to decide. Let me take an example. Assume that an incredibly beautiful girl/boy walks somewhere. An agent sees this person and before she/he knows it, she/he is booked for a runway show and on the cover to a big fashion magazine's February number. Assume that the number sells incredibly bad. Bye bye model. With this I'm just trying to say, say - not defend, that today's regular people, you and me, really accept this sick, thin, strange ideal because we choose to buy the magazine. Did you know, by the way, that it in the old days was considered beautiful for a man to have a big stomache? It showed that he had welfare and wealth. If a woman had wide hips and break in the skin just where the stomache ends she was considered attractive, since it showed that she was good with producing babies. The world has come a long way since then some people say. I am not one of them.
/'New Maybelline Mascara - opens your eyes.' Yeah... maybe I should just stop closing them?"

Women shave everywhere and for who? Most of them claim that it's for themselves, but is it really? 'It's fresher without hair'. Says who? You? Why do you say that? The hair is there for a reason. A few thousand years ago you were completely covered in it. Would you have shaved yourself then too?

I suppose the only thing that never really got out of fashion are white teeth. A toothbrush and some toothpaste and I'm set for life. I think I'm gonna keep to that. That way I'll still be fashionable in a hundred years.

Bombshell.

No man, no madness

Though their sad power may prevail

Can possess, conquer, my country's heart

They rise to fail

She is eternal

Long before nations' lines were drawn

When no flags flew, when no armies stood

My land was born

And you ask me why I love her

Through wars, death and despair

She is the constant

We who don't care

And you wonder will I leave her -- but how?

I cross over borders but I'm still there now

How can I leave her?

Where would I start?

Let man's petty nations tear themselves apart

My land's only borders lie around my heart

Imagine standing on a scene in some country god forgot and just sing a number like this at the very top of your lungs.

You enter the stage and the audience is completely silent - you smell their expectation. The lights blind you, but the adrenaline is intoxicating and you don't really mind. The music starts and you start singing. While the song last it's all about the music. The tunes, the words, the feeling they bring to you.

I'd love to be in a musical. Of course, seeing as I can't sing so other people like it, being in a musical isn't really an option for me. Dancing is, I suppose, but I want it all. All or nothing - I've always been like that. Ah, and I suppose my extremely poor acting talents would keep me away too. I actually thought I was pretty good at acting and then in 2005 I saw myself in As You Like It. It wasn't good. It was rather painful to watch - but that might've been because it was me. (My English was great though, so I suppose that's always something.) Great or not, it was fun anyway and I did get the most pathetic part of them all - which was my only request. Hrm, I think I lost myself here...

Ah right - singing is fun! People really should do it more often. I'm gonna do it more often. I'm gonna end this year with one big fat ballad at the top of my lugns. Put the crystal away! My singing's here to stay!

Hedonism.

I just discovered a bruise. Right below my right knee. I can't really say it comes as a surprise to me seeing as I always tend to talk into something or drop things, but it doesn't hurt and it's kinda green. And I can't for the love of god remember what I've done to 'cause it. I'm sure more bruises will turn up when I take my yearly Christmas shower - they usually do. Sometimes I think I'm gonna end up like one of those women who always say "Oh no, I fell down the stairs, silly really", but in my case it'd actually be true. And then I would of course live with a man who everyone sees as a "bit violent - especially after drinking" and one day the neighbours would call the police because I'm screaming and the police would come and I would open the door and be full of bruises and nasty cuts and they would question my man, who would deny it of course, and then they'd question me "we had a call about domestic violence, m'am" and I'd deny everything of course because it just isn't true. I walked into the doorframe. That's why my eye is all blue and swollen. And the cut on my arm? I slipped with the knife. What? Why I'm limping? Well, you see, we have these rabbitholes in the backyard and I stepped in one of those and twisted my ancle. And the police would take the neighbours' word that "something ain't right in there" and take my man away. Then he'd be killed in jail since men who beat women don't last long in there and I'd be all alone. Of course... I would have a lot of money... and I can always put those eight kids in an orphanary... I'll get back to you on this.

It's Christmas Eve today! It's the big day here in Sweden - someone got it wrong ages ago so now the 24th is what it's all about. The 24th is also the day that a lot of people get their last Christmaspresents. Between you and me - I really understand why this is also that time of year when the suiciderate goes way up. The pressure, the darkness, the pain - I totally get it.
Anyway, for me Christmas isn't about gifts. It's about the food! Wonderful, glorious food filling a whole table and smelling and looking delicious. (I have a secret love for egg-halves, god knows why, but I just love them! Only at Christmas though - not really that fond of eggs anymore.) It's also about love and joy and even though this has been the worst year so far (karma better have something really good stored for me) I can still feel the spirit. The happiness is just... wow.

Now... where the fuck did I put that DVD I was suppose to give my sister...?

The art of being angry.

Ever been really angry? You know the cartoons where the blood boils inside and steam comes through the ears? Ever been that angry?
Did you know that being angry takes up at least twice as much energy and muscle work as being happy? I read that somewhere ages ago - I tend to read stuff and then just save them to use against people every now and then. Somehow you'd think that would stop people from being angry, but that's not really the case. When something annoys us by going against us, whether it's tasks or people, we respond by being annoyed. If the annoyance goes on long enough it usually ends in anger. Of course, there are also times when the annoyance is so strong in the beginning that it just starts with anger. A part of me wonders what would've happen if Hitler hadn't been refused by the painting school he wanted to attend. Maybe things would've turned out differently, maybe not. One can't help thinking that maybe that event triggered some anger that didn't come out the right way. Or maybe he was just a ball of pure evil. I'm loosing myself in my head now. Anyway...
I think it's really imortant to be angry. To be annoyed and then just keep it inside (I'm Swedish - it's what we do, remember?) won't help. It'll just build up and then you'll burst at the wrong people. I dwelled in anger yesterday. At 11am I was so pissed off that everything I said was through gritted teeth. Why? Some stupid little annoyance at 7:30am that just kept on building up. At 12:30 I started laughing really hard over a silly joke and once you've laughed like that it's hard to remember why you wanted to be angry.

In one of our Swedish newspapers there's usually a very strange article every day. We have it as our thing here at work to find the "article of today" and I thought I should share that with you - if nothing else it might bring you some joy for a minute or two.

Lifeless when it doesn't get attention, but hard and ready when you take it in your hand.
No, you're not at the wrong site. We're still talking stuff.
It's about the new Panasonic remote control in a gelmaterial that sort of gets "life" when touched.
Salvador Dali probably smiles in his heaven about this thing that pulses weakly where it's carelessly thrown over a book, shaped after the surface.

The idea to this concept remote is described as a try to "give life to every day items that are just dead when they're not used. We want to try and change the veiw of these lifeless items". And of course the thoughts wander to something completely different than a remote control when you take it in your hand. Then it's activated and the gelmaterial becomes hard.
The remote control has earlier been shown at the exhibition "Haptic" at The Lighthouse, the centre for architecture and design in Glasgow, Scotland, where it caught attention.
The question is only if it goes into production and in which stores it will be sold - at the tv-shops or where adult toys are sold.



I need one of these. Enough said.

the end

When you can't find the light,

that got you through the cloudy days,

when the stars ain't shinin bright,

you feel like you've lost your way,

when those candle lights of home,

burn so very far away,

well you got to let your soul shine,

just like my daddy used to say.

This has been the shittiest year in probably a decade. I mean, I've felt bad before but this year... It's like everything I've ever repressed or ignored or refused to think about hit me at the same time together with new feelings and emotions I've never felt before. Thank god there's only 17 days left of this year. I'm going to use these days to pull myself from the black hole of self-pity I'm currently in and just focus on feeling great. On being happy. And on dressing up my fake Christmas tree of course.

He used to say soulshine,

it's better than sunshine,

it's better than moonshine,

damn sure better than rain.

Hey now people don't mind,

we all get this way sometime,

got to let your soul shine,

shine till the break of day.

A friend told me that 'the hardest thing a human can experience is when the image of herself shatters' and I really think there's something to it. I started this year with a dream of the suburb and a house and kids and screams and that kinda went down the drain. It actually went so hard down that I stopped dreaming. Do you have any idea how hard it is to go on and not have a dream about the future? To hear 'so where do you see yourself in ten years?' and realise that you see a void.

So I went back to my usual dream, the stand-by dream that's always there for me. Write a book, get it published, win the Nobel Prize and then tell them to 'shove it'. It's such a good dream...

I grew up thinkin' that I had it made,

gonna make it on my own.

Life can take the strongest man,

make him feel so alone.

Now and then I feel a cold wind,

glowin' through my achin' bones,

I think back to what my daddy said,

he said boy, in the darkness before the dawn:

Let your soul shine,

it's better than sunshine,

it's better than moonshine,

damn sure better than rain.

Yeah now people don't mind,

we all get this way sometimes,

gotta let your soul shine,

shine till the break of day.

I am not stuck. This isn't how it's going to end. This is right here, right now and even though it's not where I saw myself five years ago, it still isn't that bad. I can get through this and I will get through this. I'm going to put all my effort in me now and start to actually care about what I want. My life will change but I will always have myself. I should think more about that.

Sometimes a man can feel this emptiness,

like a woman has robbed him of his very soul.

A woman too, God knows, she can feel like this.

And when your world seems cold,

you got to let your spirit take control.

I took a bath today. If I remember correctly it's the second bath I've taken since I moved in and probably the second or third in ten years time. (I stopped ages ago because the water got cold so quickly and a shower never gave me that problem.) That means that in 8 months and 19 days I've only used my green (yes, green) bathtub twice. (Might be three times, not completely sure.) Anyway... I filled the tub with hot water and then went in and started reading a book. Oh my fucking god, it was hard. I'm not used to just lying there doing nothing and it got so damn hot in the bathroom! The book was great though (just like the last two times I read it) and when it was finished I washed my hair and massaged my body with some weird white spongethingieball I got from work today. Maybe I should invest more in my bathroom. Make it more spa-friendly. Right now it's a green, built-in bathtub, white tiles about a metre and a half up the wall with a two-centimetre tile row that's green (I know!) and the rest of the wall is pink. No tiles, just pink. I mean, I like green but... It's not that pretty. I was thinking about making the bathtub black and the pink part of the wall white and then paint something on the wall, but I'm not sure. I might just keep the tub green and paint the pink white and then just do something green there instead to bind it together. Cheap and easy solution. My only problem now is that my work kinda damaged me a bit so what's green to others are two completely different greens to me. That means that the tub and the tiny-tiles aren't the same green colour. So should I go for the green tub-colour or the tile-colour? Or should I just make the whole room black and put a lightbulb on a string in the middle of the ceiling while I claim that 'it was like this when I found it'?

Let your soul shine,

it's better than sunshine,

it's better than moonshine,

damn sure better than rain.

Lord now people dont mind,

we all get this way sometimes,

gotta let your soul shine, shine till the break of day.

It's about positive thoughts. Posivite thoughts --> positive vibes --> good mood --> happiness --> easier to make good decisions. Ready? Okay. Starting... NOW!

Everyone is equal.

Sweden is an amazing country. It really is. We have freedom of speech, writing and human rights. For everyone. Everywhere. Even in jails. Isn't that wonderful?

The prison management invited children to appear before some of Sweden's worst pedophiles. After the passing of the Lucia train this Friday some of the interns said:
'I wish I had one of those.'
At 7am last Friday the lights went out in the dining area at Skogome prison at Hisingen in Gothenburgh.
The Lucia train consisted of girls between 15 and 17 years old. And in the audience were some of Swedens worst sex offenders, convicted pedophiles, rapists and murderes.

The Lucia train was arranged by a local organisation and the children have been practising on their performance all through the Autumn. The Lucia train appeared on several workplaces and they were invited to appear in the prison by the prison management.
Skogome prison is specialised to receive sexual criminals and the arrangement is now withstanding hard critisism from the employees.
'I think it's very strange that a child should appear for these men, one of them convicted for sexually assaulting and raping his daughter more than a thousand times', one employee says.
The train is an appreciated tradition among the interns, who are given the opportunity to drink alcoholfree glögg (mulled wine) and eat Lucia buns.
But several of the employees at the prison were upset over how the interns commented the children.
'When they were gone they started saying things like "how cute and pretty they were", "I wish I had one of those" and "how well developed they were", I was so upset I had to leave', one source says.
Even the organiser of the Lucia train experienced the athmosphere last Friday as frightening. Straight after the performance the alarm went off.
'It was something that happened in the cellblock, the gates were closed and we couldn't leave the prison. We had to wait in the car for at least ten minutes', one of the organisers says.
She has been a Lucia herself and performed at the prison as a child. This year her daughter performed.
'The girls don't exactly know what kind of interns who are imprisoned there, I haven't thought of it either', she says.
Last Friday's performance was the 35th in a row. But now it's over.
'This was the last time we appeared here, it doesn't feel right. The clients have changed with the years', another of the organisers says.

Afterwards one of the interns tried to commit suicide. The pedophile convicted man was saved by the staff.
A lot of people of the staff thinks the suicide is directly linked to the children's performance.
'Pedophilia is a very shamefilled crime and the Lucia train probably exposed a lot of feelings', the source says.

The executive chief for the correctional system, Anne Marie Dahlgren, doesn't see any problems with the performance. Is it really appropriate that children perform for people commited for assaults against children?
'One can think about that but even the interns have to experience something extraodrinary', Dahlgren says.

Sweden truly is amazing. We're making sure that even the people who commit crimes have a good life after their deeds are done. I'm almost getting tears in my eyes now. Oh, don't worry - I'm not going down the prison-lane today. I would, however, take this opportunity and just complain about how completely stupid people are. "Everyone is an idiot" is one of my guidelines in life and every time it's shown to be true I find myself surprised. I don't know why - I really should be used to it by now. So why complain? Well, the morons shut down more websites at work, so not only are we now not allowed to enter anything with "games", "jokes/entertainment", "adult/swimsuit", "religion/occult/spiritualism" and "social" - now I can't check a simple forum. I could this morning before breakfast (at 8:30am) but not after (at 9am). I feel loved. Yes, I can wait until I get home and yes, if there's work to do I shouldn't surf the web anyway, but what if there's nothing to do? Imagine a 10-hour shift and about 2 hours of efficient work time - that's 8 hours of nothing. Checking the news? Do you know how many times you can read the news before they get so dull you want to shoot yourself? About 3 times - if you stay within a country. So if you don't read incredibly slow or are extremely interested that's 7 hours to go. Boredom. Thank god I don't work evening this week.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot! The earthquake this morning didn't shake the whole fucking world, it didn't make paintings fall down, it didn't make windows shatter. It made a sound and made the windows in the roof shiver a bit. Everything else is a lie.

Colours! Wonderful, amazing colours.

Well, o.k. I still get stoned

I'm not the kind of girl you'd take home

I'm not interested in fashion. I don't care about modelling. Or makeup. Or clothes. And yet, I find myself staring at Make Me a Supermodel and Project Runway and Top Model. I read Vogue, Elle, Cosmopolitan, Vanity Fair... I know the names of designers and models and I know their specific traits. But I'm not interested in fashion. I don't follow trends. But somewhere along the way I do care about how I look. I didn't use to, but I kinda do now. I like to find out which shapes that work for me, which colour I look good in and how far you can actually go before people start staring at you (it's not that far here). Okay, so this entry is a bit shallow... but well, I don't really feel that deep, right now.

If it makes you happy

It can't be that bad

If it makes you happy

Then why the hell are you so sad

Evil spirits...?

Do you believe in exorcism? You know, the removal of evil spirits from a person with the help of a little faith? (Well, maybe not the deny the removal, but you know, the actual spirits taking over someone.)

Until today I didn't. Now I'm not really sure of what to think about it. The reason is that we heard a recording at work (http://listverse.com/bizarre/top-10-incredible-recordings/ - number 8) and after that it's hard to deny it. Seriously, it's creepy as hell - if you have even a hint of the X-files "there's something else out there" I suggest you skip it. If you're a strong critic - like I was - listen to it and then tell me it's fake and made-up. Of course I know that it can be fake (I'm not stupid), but the feeling when we heard it... Let's just say I'm glad I left the light on at home.

The art of lying.

When I was 18 (spring of 2003) I wrote an essay about lying as an assignment for school. It's incredibly silly so I thought it'd fit right in here. Don't go nag on me too much if there are loads of mistakes - it's translated from Swedish and it's very hard to translate your own work.

Thou shalt not lie

Since the beginning of time have mankind used the lie as a way to defend itself. The caveman probably used it when he came home without food to his wife and wife probably used it if she wasn’t home in the cave, when the husband came home from hunting, but somewhere else. (For example in the next cave…)
Today you might think that we should be further off than the cave, but if truth be told we are not a bit further than that. We still lie when we end up in situations where we do not want to, or cannot, tell the truth. You can easily say that we are not as developed as we think we are.

Personally I think lying is wrong in any form – big as small. I try not to lie and if I end up in a situation where I have to lie if I open my mouth I prefer to keep my mouth shut. A ‘little white lie’ might not lead to something worse, even if it has happened, but it is still a lie, just like a big lie.
They say that a big lie is easier to believe than a small one. This might sound strange but I think there is a lot to it. A big lie is often very hard to believe and therefore people think that it has to be true. Why would you lie about a thing like that?
My philosophy is that if you do not have anything good to say you might as well be quiet. People who lie I do not have any respect for, and if a friend cannot tell the truth then he or she is not a friend. But, you are probably thinking, a small lie is not that bad? No, it is not, but it is so easy to end up in the mythomania swamp if you start with small, innocent lies and that is why I prefer to tell the truth or be quiet.
But one can absolutely not forget the difference between mythomania and imagination. A mythoman is a person who lies unrestrained and does not mind to add extra to spice up something that actually is pretty down-to-earth. It can actually go so far that the mythoman starts believing his, or hers, own lies.
A person with a vivid imagination also spices up the stories but the difference is that he, or she, knows that it is all made-up and never claims it to be true.

Men have during all times wondered how their wives find out that they are cheating and I think the same thing goes for the women who have someone on the side. I can reveal two of the secrets.
When the man, or woman, come home late at night, or morning, their partner asks them where they have beem. The fault that most people do here is that they repeat the question; “Where I have been?”. This is a sign that the person did not expect being caught and cannot find a good excuse. There are also those who wash their hands or wet their lips unusually much when their partner ask the question. Also this is a clear sign that they’re lying.

If you want to be sure that your partner does not find out I suggest that you make up emergency lies. Remember that the more incredible the lie is, the bigger the chance is that your partner believes you. I mean, who many times have you not heard “but honey, I had to work late”. Noody believes it anymore since it is far too usual and far too obvious. Instead say something like “the boss took us all skydiving” and pray to the gods that your partner does not call and check with your boss. Or to make it even more safe say “the boss took us all skydiving and here is her/his number if you don’t believe me” and then give your partner the number to your best friend who of course is there for you. Or why not live dangerously; the number to your mistress?

If I have to be completely honest I do have a tiny ‘cheating system’ when it comes to lies. I prefer, as stated, not to lie and try not to, but in certain situations you have to open your mouth and then I prefer to ‘not tell the whole truth’. You remove some well chosen parts of the truth but do not add anything new. For example ‘I failed my test’ is ‘I did not do very well on my test’. This is true and I have not twisted the truth or lied.

There are those who say that ‘a liar must possess a good memory’ and that is very true. If the liar cannot remember what he, or she, uttered the chance is very big that the environment does and then he will reveal him- or herself.

Honesty is the best policy - remember that before you start lying.

Long live school assignments!

Je pense...

There is something very wrong with Titanic if you watch it in French...

...and it's a shame that Leonardo DiCaprio doesn't look like he did in that movie anymore...

...and that I don't know him...

...and that I'm this shallow, because let's face it - I'm sure Titanic would be great even if Leonardo didn't star in it. I'm sure there could be another actor who could make women all over the world faint every time they watch the scene where he draws Rose's picture...

I have to admit that he does look like a boy, but he was about 23 years old and seeing as I'm 24 now it's not that wrong... is it?

Someone once told me that I'm a romantic - can't say I agree, but I wouldn't mind switching places with Kate Winslet... Although... then I'd be at a ship about to sink and end up in freezing water and almost die. Yeah... Maybe I'll just let Leonardo stay in the movie and think of him every now and then.

Heartbroken, but not broken.

(Translation of the Swedish:
I will never get to see him again, watch him wave his tail, come running with a toy in his mouth. Never more. and it hurts so much inside. We were suppose to take care of him and protect him and now he's dead because we took the decision to put him down. I know that he's in a better place now, I know that, but saying it doesn't help. Because no matter where he is it isn't here and no with mom and dad. He won't come back. Never more. The thought of it makes me cry so much that it feels like my tears will never cease. I know that it will hurt less with time and that I won't see my beloved doggie get burned into ash in an oven, but now... Now that's all I see. My beloved doggie...)

Just before I go to sleep

There's a rendez-vous I keep

And, my darling, till we do

You are always in my heart.

No, there is no point in asking me if "I'm still sad about Rex" when I say I'm feeling down.

He was with me and my family from March 31st 1995 to November 27th 2008.

13 years and 7 months and 27 days.

All day, every day.
We lost a familymember. Don't get surprised that I'm "still sad".

I don't actually see the oven anymore. I don't get an image in my head about a veterinarian and a shot. I don't get images about my Rex, my king, drawing his final breath.
Now I get images of the puppy we got all those years ago. How I called my best friend up on 1st of April and told her that "I've got a dog!". How he got scared of lightning and hid under our laundry. Memories. Good memories. And still I keep crying. I don't really think they're tears of sadness, but I doubt that they're tears of happiness. Maybe just some form of acceptance-tears. It's hard, but I know that we gave him a good life. I know that he was happy. I know.

I watched puppies today on the web. The pain made me so certain that I would never get a dog again, and then I thought that just because I get another dog doesn't mean I will forget Rex or that he will mean less. So I started looking around and thought about a rottweiler girl. It would be a dog I really want and it would still be different. Then I saw the mixed breeds... and then I got into labradors and the second I saw those puppies I knew that there will probably never be another race for me. Of course I won't get a dog now, doggies deserve better than my work-hours and a 46sqm apartment, but it was nice to realise that even though it's painful to loose them, it's still worth it. All that joy and love and happiness. It is worth the pain.

Love is worth the pain.