H o o r a y ! ! !

I had so many plans for today. Do some shopping and get Simpsons season 11 (special edition of course), have breakfast, do some laundry and some packing.
Instead my day starts with getting an sms at 7:40am from a friend with the text "please tell me you didn't book your flight with Sterling". If I work eve-shift I'm not awake at 7:40am normally. I checked my phone, read the message and thought 'fuck, they're going on a strike - I should check it. Ah, sod it - I'll do it later'.
I woke up again at 11:30am because the phone rang and then I realised I had to answer and I also had to check this Sterling-thing. Bankruptcy. Hooray. And I was about to fly to the Netherlands tomorrow. Amazing. Wonderful way to wake up in the morning. Anyway, I did my shopping (even if I didn't find the Simpsons' box) and then I went home to sort my tickets. Not to honk my own horn here or anything - but in about an hour I had new tickets and information about how to get my money back. I'm still a bit annoyed by the whole thing - the lack of information mostly, this can't have come as a shock to the management. I got my tickets about a week ago - did they not know?!
Anyway, to make this boring story short - I only did my shopping. Half of it. My breakfast was crackers my co-workers gave me. My laundry is still unwashed and I have to pack tonight. All because I want to get away for my birthday. Right now I'm just waiting to see what else will fuck up. Not that I'm negative in any way - just because I know that crap stuff never happens alone. (Yes, I know - I'm pushing it.)

Sunshine and daisies.

"January 27th 2006 9:53pm:
Have you ever had an anxiety attack? Imagine in that case that you don't know why it happens to you and that no one you know get anything like it. None of your friends have insane sleeping disorders, they don't make their stomaches hurt, they don't have trouble breathing. Imagine that you've had the attacks since you were about 14 years old and that you're 21 now. That's 7 years. When you're 18 you study psychology because you find it interesting and realise that you're having anxiety attacks. Not that the knowledge makes it better or worse, but it's quite nice to see what happens to you written down in a book. You get some clean months and then you can't take it anymore so you speak to someone to find out if you're insane. You're not. You're not alone either. You're just empathic. A lot of compassion. You leave and feel that now when you know what it means and why it happens you'll get rid of it. Yes, I thought so too. Then I realised that you'll never be free from it - you just have to choose how you want to live your life. You have to choose what you watch on TV, read in books and magazines, hear from others. The positive thing about this is that you know how to prevent it. The negative is that if you, like I did yesterday, push an attack away it'll still bubble. It feels like there are rocks in my stomache that pulls all of me down and why? Because I saw a movie yesterday. A movie, that, even if it's inspired by reality, still is made-up. I knew that I shouldn't have seen it, I knew it, but I really wanted to because I thought it was interesting. Now I only have myself to blame. That's probably the worst part. You can't be curious because it'll come back to you in such a way that you wish you were dead."

I think I grew out of this as well. Either that or I just keep myself awake too long to care about anything but sleep...

Insanity

I like colour. Red, green, yellow, you name it. I'm one of those people who enter a shop and see a sweater they like and buy it. Then realise that the sweater comes in 4 other colours and of course get one of each colour. Why? Because I like to wear jeans and a t-shirt and since no one ever looks at the jeans you can always pretend you have a new outfit.
Another thing I really love about colour is that you'll always have something to match the mood. If you feel depressed and want to be that for a while - go black. If you feel boring - go grey. If you're happy - go yellow. Personally I like to go for one specific colour every now and then - all grey, all green, all blue. Never all black though - I need another colour to break off then, otherwise it just gets too depressing.
My absolute favourite colour is green - all kinds of green - and I love to wear it. But when I feel a bit down I put on something red. Why? Because with red you just can't be blue.

People see what they want to see.

Every now and then I like to claim that "I live in a bubble". It usually comes up when I encounter something I didn't know about, but also when there's something I don't want to know.
Everywhere in the world there are problems and pain, but people choose to look the other way. They watch the news and they feel bad, so incredibly sad it almost hurts, for those poor people who have to run from their homes, who see their loved ones being brutally murdered, who experience wars first hand. They sit in front of their television sets, in their comfy sofas and feel bad for not being able to do anything. Then they switch the channel and laugh at some silly entertainment show. Soon they forget all about wars. All about pain. All about misery and death. But for the minutes the war report lasts they can feel it. Never like the people in it, of course, but somewhere in the back of their heads they start wondering what it'd be like to have to run from your home, flee your country, watch your family get raped, tortured and murdered. All because you're different. All because you got in the way of a conflict between people you don't know. All because you believe in something else. For a few minutes.

I know. I'm on of them. I live in a bubble. If there's something I don't want to see, I simply switch the channel.

Nothing is what it seems to be.

Found some entries I wrote five years ago when I went through some stuff. It's kinda cute how the thought of homeworks and a long day at school makes you go "AAAAAAAAAAAA!". For some reason I thought I was the same person as then, but when I read through some of them I realised that I probably just look the same. Or maybe the things that meant so much back then means so little now... Maybe I just grew up somewhere along the way without really noticing it myself... I think I've become more serious over these years. I suppose that's what happens when you grow up. Things become funny in a different way, annoying in another way and I can't remember how it used to be. Maybe I'm just having a down-day. Maybe I am less serious normally. Or maybe I'll end up not understanding these entries in ten years time...

Go with the flow...

This week I made the sugarvow. Again. It's a really good thing - no sugar in form of candy, soda or other unnecessary stuff. The abstinense is painful as hell, but once you get past that point you really notice the difference. That is of course if you get past it. If the smalltownband orchestra doesn't come to visit you. Haven't seen them for a while, but they dropped by yesterday and are still rumming around in my stomache. Ah well, only shows I'm 'normal' I suppose. Since I'm training up my boundaries when it comes to certain subjects I'm not going into too much information. (I know, it hurts inside.)

Gonna meet Bubbles tomorrow and show him around Copenhagen. I hope it doesn't rain too much - I love rain, but I love it more if I'm inside than out in it. (He still sees me as a nice person. Poor poor Bubbles.)

I have tickets to Depeche Mode. I am happy. My intestines are made of cells. I am not a robot.

Anyway... I'm going with the flow now. It's easier.

Shatter.

I used to wonder how it'd feel to loose someone I love. Why the people in the movies yelled 'NOOOOOOO!' and then just dropped wherever they stood. Why not sit on a bench or a chair or at least somewhere that's a bit cleaner than the ground? I got a first-hand lesson in that myself this year. I suppose I should be grateful, I always want to know more about things. You see, when you sit on the ground, you can't get any further down. It's quite reassuring to know that you actually can't sink any deeper. A chair can break, a bench can fall apart, but the ground will be where it is.

He tried to make his feelings for me dead for him. It's a shame that he in the process made my feelings for him fade and disappear. What's left are the memories of the feelings I once had. I don't remember what he looks like. I don't remember his smile. I don't remember his voice. He honestly doesn't mean anything to me anymore. The memories will never fade, but they don't affect me anymore. I have moved on.

Love is an illusion. It's up to us if we want to believe the illusion or not.