The house that Jack built 

Gunnar Heinsohn 

Sons and world power 

Survival of the prettiest 

The Gift: Imagination and the Erotic Life of Property

One turns a blind eye when life throws you sexy old french dudes on a electric scooter!

I had a vivid dream about monsiuer. Need to stop letting my post menstrual emotions run my 40 something childless life. When did I become ashamed of my very vulgar engaged mind. Need to reply my shrinks email. Nothing changed besides my shrink is also now OUR shrink. How fucking sad. Atleast you should be happy that he is paying for someone else to listen to you talk about how your neglected childhood has made you into a whore of the decadence and an addict of the vivid. You are depressed cause sex has merely become the act it was meant for. To reprocreate. Not to fill our uselss chaotic meaningless existence with. 

Monsieur is turning 67 this year! It seems that math was never my strong side. I was 28 when monsiuer was double my age. What could go wrong when everything felt so fucking awesome. I couldnt help myself but to tell him that I dreamt of him. His answer: I also dream about myself at times. You tell him you miss him, he asks why he did not recieve an invite to the wedding. You comfort him by stating the obvious, that he didn't want to marry you so you had to marry someone. 

Alas, my childhood. I was a happy child, until I wasnt anymore. When I was 5 yrs old "they" put me in a so called boarding school for musical trained kids, my parents always like to emphasis "musical" whenever they talk about it. They also make it sound like it was some kind of a gift one couldn't turn down. Mostly my dad likes to joke about it, mum never mentions it anymore. Memories of sorrow sounds too pretentious for a 5 year old but that was the bigger part of my childhood. Sorrow and longing. 

I moved to Singapore straight after college in HK, with a man I can only recall that I adored at times. Somehow I always end up loathing them. The men. I cut myself with a dinning knife after a couple of months living there, just to feel something else. I remember when D. asked me about what those scars were, I told him I fell through a fence while playing tennis. Only half of a lie. 

Nothing really matters when everything is happening at once. No time to stop to reflect to reliase. If I only could go back to that summer in Shanghai and ride on his whimpy scooter again. So that I can feel our body getting closer everytime it breaks.

8am

I can't handle peple anymore he told me. Ive reached a new level of my depression, I am letting my mind eating me up from inside and out. Just lean to it I guess. My very homosexual buddy is coming over with a bottle, maybe he can smash it on my head. I tell him I can't cause tomorrow morning I am meeting my mums very young ginger electrian. 8am sharp. Workingclass men never been hotter. Everyday he drills holes and run cables along mothers kitchen walls, I wonder if he always gets harrassed by married woman who wish their husband was half the man he is. My homo buddy assures me that I always look good although I look like a washed out whore that eats avocado.

ha!

I read all my old posts last night, not feeling sorry for myself one bit. Slighty embarrassed at times. What a life, what a party, what a joyous slut! Let's be honest, my so called "modelling days" in Singapore was as interesting as being stuck in traffic. The rant about being a workoloholic was just me being a narcissist having a 10am psychosis. No men were harmed in the making of this movie. And the proceedings went to my useless heart. Loving him is always easy, loving myself is something else. Wednesday therapy booked.

All the people living on Södermalm

Jag har tre grannar som är kommunister. En tycker att man ska "systematisk" göra razzia i alla lägenheter och GRÄVA fram alla som hyr ut. Jag hörde henne säga "excel" och kunde inte låta bli att le lite i smyg, och det är ju det som är problemet. Att man ler i smyg. De andra två startade en diskussion om dygden att aldrig förvalta det man har, jo för det är på andras bekostnad. Nej, inte kan de vara kommunister. För kommunister är generösa eller hur? Ordet "Stasi" kom ur mig. Ungefär en gång per månad, oftast på en måndag, blir jag en super hero som kämpar för kapitalism och frihet.

he can read me. thats all i thought to myself before hanging up the phone.

After all the pain, resentment, anger and sadness I still remember the magical moments and the foreign smells. How mesmerising it has been. At the same time my head feels like its exploding when he speaks to me.

Gurra snapchatted me his cock. That was fun. It took me 5 minutes talking to him after the awful phone call to feel good about myself again. Gurra is da best. Hashtag hashtag

9 feb 18:43

Been listening to electronic deep house step lounge kind of music from the philippine islands. I am certainly very impressed by this one producer CRWN. Banks during the early 2000´s this is how it might have sound like. Its amazing how much music I have been listening to these past two weeks.

"J. Deckers was a nun. She wrote and sang Dominique and became super famous. She quit being a nun to become a singer but she failed and committed suicide with her gf Anna after going broke in 1985". He wrote down on a piece of paper and folded it into a tiny square.

I am wearing a white dress under a long thick wool blazer, the dress is short but not slut short. I am dancing at a club in HK with Itai, Vivienne is there as well. I am in a red cab on my way to Kowloon, its 7.40am and the sun is coming out. I am in the a red cab, I pull up my legs and rest my heels on the seat. My seatbelt is on. The hat is over my face, and you know that face. The cakey, come down, cigarette kebab face. Yeah thats my face.

George called me at once he heard about what happened last night. Last night was a 2,5h of talk whereof 1h was F. sobbing and saying quite disturbing things. It was awful. How tiresome to see that people are willing to give up everything they stood for, to that they will prove themselves right. I am a monster and I seek discipline in liberty.