Hej
Are we all faders? 50C and rising!
Families, traditions, morals. Religion. A feeling of debt which does not give rise to pain or anguish. Duty, one might call it, a duty to serve and to be served alike - altruism at its finest, that is to say, altruism concentrated solely on those close to oneself. Now in the long run, being the person that I am, I find it excrutiatingly hard to withhold this mentality for any serious amount of time, because of the inevitable differences that follows the whole not being able to choose one's relatives and so forth. But this is of course easily solved by hand picking friends and basically not giving more than a very primitive and basic shit about parents etc etc. UNLESS of course they are friend material - or at least tolerable to be along side with.
Isn't it weird knowing that if your parents, or the ones "taking care of you" wouldn't have that relation to you, you would probably not want to be close to them for one second considering them inbred (mentally) disgusting freaks? That is of course, if that's not how you already view them...
Why am I babbling... I guess I just miss this; writing, communicating. I feel like screaming. God, West has ruined me. How am I supposed to live when all my breaths are taken for the account of someone else? What purpose do my thoughts have, if their sole meaning lies in impressing or persuading others?
I repeat the same "mistake" as the others - considering a human to be built of different stuff than any other thing in this world, being unique and divine.
Truth is though, we are in our own way, from our own eyes, which are the only eyes with which we can see. So why complicate things?
([I])
Feeling like most things are pretty allright. Everywhere around me shines the Islamic Swastica of Allah and I'm beginning to seriously appreciate living under physical oppression; at least here one's mind can walk freely in the plains of one's own creation..
Tomorrow I'm off to Shiraz, for the first time in my life. Shiraz, the most antique city of Iran, situated in the midst of the vast deserts of mid-Iran. To Persepolis, where the remains of (if one should believe the surviving propaganda) true cultural enlightenment and freedom, lies buried under the ash and dust of Alexander's physical might.
AllahuAkbar
The wheels of Amsterdam Part II are turning, and its grease is working better than I thought. purrrr. Also, I'll get a beautiful one day ticket to Hultsfred to be a part of a Mass psychotic alcoholic frenzy.... and to see Dungen and MF DOOM!
yaya, me me me.
Ideas tear men asunder
There will be changes, and big ones too. For too long have I subjected myself to a self created hell back home. So I move to new lands, both physically and metaphorically, away from the couch dwellers, who thrive in their own filth too weak to know what they really want - away from the false pioneers, who in their desperate need for an ambition, sell themselves to a collective will.
Away from the sinful slavery of sleep, and away from the virtuous slavery of travel.
Most of you have dissapointed me this far. Most of you.. if not all.
Set me the fuck free.
Moreover, I'm having a strange but awesome time, the only thing clouding it being the memory of Home.
Psychoactiva
Don't die just yet -
vali midooni ke jah hast... va har vaght tasmim gerefti biyay, faghat yek zang bezan... khosh amadi
It's 35 degrees, night, damp and relatively windy. Wounded cats tread upon their dystopic asphalt world, as the negligent men talk and boast about their many ways of doing things. Ideas are formed and lost, as this godforsaken country steps into the light of westernization; into the beauty of calculus and preservation; into our fucking palace of immortality.
Yesyes, come come, of course you are all welcome. Big neon signs advertise the new way. Come come, and make sure to feed off of the eternal bread which will never make you fat - until the taste itself vanishes, in the ocean of inflation which we are all so joyously dreaming about.
fuck you
I forgot to tell ya
Anyway, here are some pics from graduation day :D (pics of Iriri will come upon my arrival back into the icicle. (don't worry raz, you're like the only reader xD)
Three rings and you're dead
This cell phone of mine has been a rarely loyal comrade to me indeed. It has stuck with me all throughout my travels and survived, being the ideal example of cheap technology done right. Oh how I loved that phone - now it is dead, however, and although I will miss it dearly and mourn it well, one cannot claim that it didn't have a life worthy of kings.
Three times did the phone stare into the eyes of death before it was finally taken away by that horrid beast yester, three times did it cheat death. I must tell you this story, so as to honor my fallen companion.
First was in the mystical town of Enköping. It was the day before a concert and I was taking a walk by myself listening to the white album. I was alone in an alien town walking towards a far off water tower, which was illuminated beautifully by the orange lights below. What else can one do in these situations, but dance? The thing about me though is that anything I do, I do in bursts. I sprint, I do not run marathons (that is solely a metaphor, I neither sprint nor run marathons, I sit). So instead of dancing rythmically with the music and with a constant flow of energy, I jump up and down insanely for 10 seconds afterwhich I calm down, look around myself, and walk quietly with my head down.
So, as you might've guessed, the cell phone fell out of my pockets during one of these bursts. It wasn't til the following day that I noticed the missing phone and then we were already heading towards Sonisphere.
During the concerts I didn't really think about it but sometimes it popped up to give me anxt. When we returned from what had been an extremely rainy day, I set out for a desperate walk along the same path I'd taken two nights before - and what do you know, there it was, in the middle of the grass, completely wet and off. Then it was just a matter of drying it and it started working again - FUCK yeah, I loved my cell :/
Number two was shorter but just as lethal. I was coming on home from a magical flyfest in the residence of The Rah, with no thoughts on anything else but getting home and finishing a delicious meal. It was nighttime but the community roller still showed up bravely on the spot when the need had risen. Upon leaving Shahr-e-Mariam I received a glorious feeling as my portable all-in-one band sprayed jizz all over me. And it was of course this glorious feeling, which leaved me to forget my cellie when stepping out of the bus. Punishment. However, I managed to scout the error in time - that is to say, when I got inside - and the hunt began. Coincidentally, I was borne with the luck of living ridiculously close to the station where the roller would go on to sleep the night out. So I rushed towards the station, through the icy streets, casting their neon reflections on my burning eyes, and reached the sleeping horse. After having to convince a guy that the good feeling he would get from helping me would be worth his two minutes of time and being mocked by that same guy for being so forgetful, I managed to retrieve my beloved and all was once more well in Myland.
The third was as a matter of fact very recently, as close as a week back if I remember correctly. I was on my way to the lovely little lake of Karstorp (skövde's Ganges) to meet up with a couple of friends. Due to the many and crooked roads around this lake, however, it took me ages to find the exact location of the group, which ultimately led to me get lost in the maze. Similarly to that fateful night in Enköping, I was pumping my iPod (ew) to its full capacity leaving me ignorant of any sounds of the outside world. Also, the fact that I was wearing my shorts with only one and very unpredictable pocket (filled with one very unpredictable cell phone) wasn't helping my case one bit. So it fell out and I didn't hear it. When it finally became clear to me, it wasn't too hard to find; I just had to walk back the evil maze and get totally lost again. Fuck, it took me an hour and my soul was bleeding.
And now it's gone, NOT because of me, but because of a gay ass wigger drug addict ^^
ring
Now it's an hour left til my hair is gone... I know it isn't such a big of a deal but still. A lot of memories in that hair o.o
Goodbye hair
umzumzumz and all that.
I don't wish to linger on it for too long, the night only being a mere prequel to the great and allmighty graduation day, but I can definitely say that it was more fucked up than I'd ever expect it to be. I got in along the hordes of people entering this sort of brief group being, and walked with them down the stairs to the actual dance floor. The air was filled with eager expectation and excitement over what goods the loss of self control can bring about this time around.
Then it was time to dance. Three hours of practically raving bathing in foam (they called it a foam party), barely being able to breathe, and just letting loose. The music was so strange - and beautiful in its own way...
Afterwards though, this guy came up to me as I was standing outside my gates waiting to be let in by my mother, and he started talking to me in an uneasing manner. Then I noticed the broken bottle in his hands and how he was asking me to give him stuff. really surreal shit. My mother came down just in time and so they left, but he snatched my cell in the run...
We don't love everyone just yet, do we now?
Thor and his pals
baconbreakon? not really
.
and I feel crazy :D
Gogo master Gaghanna
Gogos feelings...
.This is neither here nor there…nor is it anywhere, but everywhere else
.
This just in: I am currently within what can only be described as a total shit storm; my mom room is now so packed with crap that I can actually feel the walls expanding around me. So much of the space has been taken up by shit that I can no longer be sure that the oxygen levels in here are sufficient for organic life, not to mention the severe psychological torment that arises from being trapped or imprisoned. But it’s all of course very temporary, and it is all of course very tolerable. My mission now lies in compartmentalizing further.
.
Earlier today I took a stroll through ancient aunterial memories. Through grand weddings and the merger between two continents; through symbols for abandoned parental dreams stuffed in some impulsive manner into dark corners (No one knew that they would be found again, and no one could foresee that the life they had been given would survive the ages), until at last I found the valley – my valley. Seeing as my time this particular day was limited I managed only to scout the periphery of this valley, and it was when I stood there before the fallen gogo master, that I decided to call it a day. But wait a minute, oh grand one, what of this gogo master?
.
The gogo, in my opinion (do you know what a gogo is? I’ll post a pic), is a very extraordinary creature indeed or at least, that’s what a littler mic would say. These bruised little aliens would probably come third on my list of childhood collections (Right after Warhammer and Pokemon). And of course, this little text trails down to the lovely river of nostalgia, for it was there that I was left to ponder my lost youth, as the gogo master showed me what he had taken from me. He was calm, as was I, but something in his eyes warned me of the weight of the situation. I took a step back. He watched me. I took another one. No changes, still watching.
.
It was about then that I realized I was acting strange running away from a relatively large gogo and I stopped (still breathing heavily). Nevertheless, the feeling remained. That feeling of lost youth.
.
On another note, the two major succubus mistresses of society’s tongue are beginning to scare me. They used to just piss me off, as a result of a VERY LARGE difference in ideals and definition (such as the definition of music), but then something changed; they grew too powerful, bloated beyond the fathomable, and in doing so, they unveiled parts of a terrifying future. The direction the evolution of our society’s music is taking right now (as everything else for that matter) is to separate the artist from the art even further until art is truly a matter of utopian fiction, thus sucking whatever meaning the word “music” still has left completely dry. And what is then the perfect symbol, if not these two luscious beasts? They are “edgy”, youthful, hubris inducing and controversial just to the point where it’s starting to disturb the parents. The only difference between the mainstream art today and that of before (mid to late 20th century) is that this time, authority is on art’s side. This is all a result of society becoming more and more aware of the will of its inhabitants, and then satisfying some of these wills (in a way similar to giving a starving man a picture of a sandwich). Compromises compromises.
.
These beasts then… and I hope you know of whom I speak. Superficial. Their whole existence (to all except them themselves) is exactly that. They are created by the great machine (by its workers) as a gift unto the workers of the great machine. They are the feelings and thoughts of a people too scared to feel or think. They are unfitting substitutes of truth – the heights without the lows – consumed as heroin, when it’s really just air. People don’t really have the need for love when they can LOVE. And this is because they are told that LOVE is equal to love. When in reality, it is this belief and this belief alone, which enslaves them.
.
Ignorance is bliss only to those who do not consider themselves ignorant. The same goes for wisdom. Truth is though, whatever we do sometimes we are blissful, sometimes we are not – we just have to find a way to dance alongside the world we perceive to be and hope for the best.
.
As well as the worst…
Who could say no to these two sexy ladies? (My God, these pictures alone already say everything that needs be said)
can you spot the gogo master? and for all of you who won't ask, that "stuff" is bananamilk...
milk.. from a banana...
Stockholm Part II
N64!!!!!!!!!!
There has been a breach in the system, caused by something very strange and powerful, and in it flows showing no remorse over the barren lands it washes. It is indeed of the washing kind, for it is liquid and it is cleansing; it is an overflow of positive and beautiful energy. Wave after wave the Gods spilled in their revered juices, as my tiny figure devoured as much as was physically possible.
What happened then, doc?
I'll tell you what! Life happened, and it's happening still! In the ever increasing haze of acceleration that is May, I have started focusing on certain elements of the future. Such as... MOVING THE FUCK OUUT!!! YAAAA :333
So, like the good boy that I consider myself to be, I went down into the gaping hell also known as the fucking storage space to gather artifacts for iHome. It was literally filled to the brim and it took me ages to dig my way through the endless hordes of unwanted and abandoned things. So, as you could imagine, it was quite the feeling standing there alone on top of a mountain of waste holding in my hands the most beauteous of treasures:
This is what I managed to get during my scavenger hunt:
VHS Movies - 10 or so nostalgic items of the past. Episodes of Pokemon and like Rush Hour and stuff ^^
Old Photoes and nostalgic books
A NINTENDO64 INTACT WITH ALL CABLES - one working controller and 9 games, all of them ace (Zelda OoT, MarioParty1, MarioParty2, MarioKart, Mario64, Pokemon Stadium2, Mariogolf, Pokemon Snap, Supersmash bros.)
Football and badminton stuff ^^
An old dysfunctional string instrument xD
and A FUCKING Keyboard ala synth!
And now, some eating with a lovely friend, venturing down to meet others, buying bacon, chilling
I am overwhelmed... adieu
I... *masturbating* can't... *masturbating* stop... *masturbating* MASTURBATING TO HOW FUCKING EPIC LIFE CAN BE!
Ihtenel Almanakh
"Discussing on the internet is like handicap OL.
Even if you win, you're still retarded." - The Internetz