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.
tisdag 9 februari 2016
lördag 6 februari 2016
0% Ego
Philip Glass is playing.
No, I switch to CAN and Halleluwah. Swinging!
I was just on the phone with Gurra talking about what an complete disaster meeting I had this morning. One of those "I must be high on charlie cause that was way too bad to feel this good" meeting. I mean, not only was I all over the room drawing on the whiteboard, having foot dance with the drawers, I also somehow successfully incorporated the sentence "...and I say that with 0% ego" into our conversation. YES, I am a MONSTER. Judge me.
Mother is coming in March, the 6th. I fear her visit with amusement, how little she knows her only child. Does she know about the nights spent in hotels when I am visiting my dad. She doesn't have to know. We all fear to become like our parents, surprisingly our parents fear the same. I know it hurt mother just as much as it makes her content, its like all her poor judgement and failure will be genetically inherited by me. And if that happens I will let it inhabit my mind peacefully.
No, I switch to CAN and Halleluwah. Swinging!
I was just on the phone with Gurra talking about what an complete disaster meeting I had this morning. One of those "I must be high on charlie cause that was way too bad to feel this good" meeting. I mean, not only was I all over the room drawing on the whiteboard, having foot dance with the drawers, I also somehow successfully incorporated the sentence "...and I say that with 0% ego" into our conversation. YES, I am a MONSTER. Judge me.
Mother is coming in March, the 6th. I fear her visit with amusement, how little she knows her only child. Does she know about the nights spent in hotels when I am visiting my dad. She doesn't have to know. We all fear to become like our parents, surprisingly our parents fear the same. I know it hurt mother just as much as it makes her content, its like all her poor judgement and failure will be genetically inherited by me. And if that happens I will let it inhabit my mind peacefully.
fredag 5 februari 2016
Would Zach Braff's character in Garden State have sat through an elaborate hamster funeral if his hostess didn't look like Natalie Portman?
Mayor of the crazy town. People call each other that, thats why Jesse fell in love with Celine. And now he resent her for that. Resentment, thats real love. I do admit I do not posses the most accurate nor healthy aspect of a stable relationship. I am neurotic as fuck and at times a maniac. My families acceptance of my rad behaviour makes me surprisingly more grounded.
I have been doing a lot of thinking since I decided to break up with you. Never have I been so tormented and optimistic at the same time. Why didn't you let me be excessive, unavailable and slap-in-your-face annoying? Everything that you fell in love with, little by little it was being put in the corner behind the curtains. Until there was nothing left of me. Do you know it fels like, not knowing who you are? How do you suffer when you have no feelings left. Time drained all my energy while my own search for the solution consumed me.
I told N. today that George might be dead. What an awful thought! She pointed out how morbid I have become. I am maniac, paranoid, happy and infatuated. Its a powerful cocktail of emotions, like a mental eight ball. Naturally I worked out all the scenarios that might happen (paranoia to rescue).
1. George is dead, I am pregnant. His parents makes a deal with me for me to keep the baby as he is their only child. I admit this does come off a bit dramatic, but you can never take Life for granted!
2. George is dead, I am NOT pregnant. I start a thursday evening support group for people with dead rebounds. The support group becomes successful and get acquired by a shady but financially solid healthcare company.
3. George is alive.
I am keeping my fingers crossed for option 2. Just kidding! How worried I am about my darling George. He is exactly the kind of person that would do something stoopid while being high on various substances. Oh how beastly of George to make me worry like a little girl!
CAN is playing on my spotify, I am googling "What do you call you toxic friend that you do a lot of substances with", you know that one person that you dread to hang out with cause you know two of you are just like Kim Jun Ill and nuclear weapon. You always have the best time of your life but during the come down you can't remember exactly what you did. Everything is blurred but you know you had fun just not knowing why. Or you do know why, its the dust, the capsules, the sheets, the grass. It is whatever we can get our hands on, and how fast we can consume it all. It becomes a competition in how much decadence and indulgence we can squeeze in during 24h, preferable in a foreign city in a another country. How can you live life at its fullest and not being curious about death. Its the ultimate experience, its better than sex or any sex enhancing drug taken during the act of sex. Im starting to sound morbid again. I stop here.
Lets speak of something more lively. Julie gave birth to a beautiful and fat (9,1pounds) baby boy last week!
Lets be morbid again. If George is really dead. Will I be contacted by Dave? His parents? What do I say? Do I go to his funeral? AH! B_R_U_T_A_L
Sayonara.
I have been doing a lot of thinking since I decided to break up with you. Never have I been so tormented and optimistic at the same time. Why didn't you let me be excessive, unavailable and slap-in-your-face annoying? Everything that you fell in love with, little by little it was being put in the corner behind the curtains. Until there was nothing left of me. Do you know it fels like, not knowing who you are? How do you suffer when you have no feelings left. Time drained all my energy while my own search for the solution consumed me.
I told N. today that George might be dead. What an awful thought! She pointed out how morbid I have become. I am maniac, paranoid, happy and infatuated. Its a powerful cocktail of emotions, like a mental eight ball. Naturally I worked out all the scenarios that might happen (paranoia to rescue).
1. George is dead, I am pregnant. His parents makes a deal with me for me to keep the baby as he is their only child. I admit this does come off a bit dramatic, but you can never take Life for granted!
2. George is dead, I am NOT pregnant. I start a thursday evening support group for people with dead rebounds. The support group becomes successful and get acquired by a shady but financially solid healthcare company.
3. George is alive.
I am keeping my fingers crossed for option 2. Just kidding! How worried I am about my darling George. He is exactly the kind of person that would do something stoopid while being high on various substances. Oh how beastly of George to make me worry like a little girl!
CAN is playing on my spotify, I am googling "What do you call you toxic friend that you do a lot of substances with", you know that one person that you dread to hang out with cause you know two of you are just like Kim Jun Ill and nuclear weapon. You always have the best time of your life but during the come down you can't remember exactly what you did. Everything is blurred but you know you had fun just not knowing why. Or you do know why, its the dust, the capsules, the sheets, the grass. It is whatever we can get our hands on, and how fast we can consume it all. It becomes a competition in how much decadence and indulgence we can squeeze in during 24h, preferable in a foreign city in a another country. How can you live life at its fullest and not being curious about death. Its the ultimate experience, its better than sex or any sex enhancing drug taken during the act of sex. Im starting to sound morbid again. I stop here.
Lets speak of something more lively. Julie gave birth to a beautiful and fat (9,1pounds) baby boy last week!
Lets be morbid again. If George is really dead. Will I be contacted by Dave? His parents? What do I say? Do I go to his funeral? AH! B_R_U_T_A_L
Sayonara.
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