It feels like I could hit through a wall. Or throw the telly out the window. Or really fuck myself up, only I don't do that any more.

I wish I did.


There's something crooked in my life (possibly the universe) and I wish I could reach out my hand to snap it back into place. Maybe it's me. I suppose it must be.

I realized the other day that he's probably not moving with me. I felt stupid for not realizing sooner. I wonder now what would be worse: Missing him every day or a clean break. If we try the long-distance thing, at least he'd still be mine. But I'm starting to think I couldn't make it. I thought he was the one who couldn't.

But, hey, what can you do. Not leave? Never. What man is worth an eternity as a kindergarten assistant? I'm glad I'm not that far gone.

Worst case scenario: I move, we break up, I realize the studies suck (or I suck at them, even worse), I move back, he's lost.


I was prepared to make a big speech about how he shouldn't quit his job and leave everything to go with me before I figured he probably wouldn't, and now all I want is to beg him to go. Now how's that for life's sucky irony.

And strangest of all: This is the part of love I've always dreaded and avoided, and I still wouldn't trade him for peace of mind.


I just hope I feel the same way in a year.

Seriously stuck in my head today. Which is a nice, sort of fluffy feeling, where the real world is all blurry. I keep thinking there's something wrong with my eyes, then realize, no, it's just the inside of my head. Spent 3 hours in bed this "morning", staring into the wall and being somewhere else entirely. Fun stuff.

I got a call from L saying we might go flying, and I'm actually halfway hoping we won't, so I won't have to make the effort of paying attention to stupid things like the ground, how close it is, and how fast it's getting closer.

After staying up until 2 every night only to sleep till noon, I've realized that it makes much more sense just to stay up all night, and still get up at 12. Not that I have much of a choice. By now, I've got the sun straight in my bedroom window at 3 in the morning. You try going to sleep when the sun's just risen. Not easy, I assure you.

It feels good, though. I never can sleep at night in the summer. The world's too beautiful. The sun's more golden, somehow, and when everybody else are sleeping, it feels like I have the world entirely to myself. It's like any normal day (except, of course, that it's not, because it's night! It just doesn't show!), minus all the people.

The world should be people-less more often.

So glad I'm working night shift this summer.


I was running around on the marsh tonight for the first time in many, many years, and ended up falling into a bog hole. Never done that before. Funny as my head is, it was just the ting I needed to cheer myself up. The mud makes a funny sucking sound when you pull various limbs free.


Also, I've discovered why borrowing money from friends is a bad, bad idea. I always thought the problem was entirely exaggerated, but no. Very stupid of me, but not a lesson I have to learn twise. There's bound to be problems somehow, no matter both your attitudes, and I'm mentally kicking my own head for not knowing better.


God, I hate money.

I've desided to start thinking again.

About the big questions, that is, which is something I've been avoiding the past couple of years because my very accidental conclusion has a tendency to make me feel distinctly feverish, confused and a tad psychotic when I think about it, and apparently I look the part as well.

Frankly, I've grown tired of being fraid of my own head and not knowing the up and down of anything. The latter most likely won't ever change, but I should at least be able to see some things as slightly more likely than everything else. How hard can that be? We all have some basic beliefs on which we build our views of the world. Surely I must have some too, beyond a shrug and a "Who knows?". I just don't know what they are any more. The last time I had an actual set of beliefs beyond that, they were very different from anything I think I might have now.

So, I'm going to do this the scientific way, and not the scientific way I've done it so far, which has been "Can it be proven? No? Oh well.", and is what landed me in this mess in the first place. No, I'm going to study. Read everything I can find about philosophy, and see if anything makes sense. I pray that something will.

The reason for this sudden interest in mental stability and philosophy is Star Wars. Yes, I'm that simple.

I watched it last night, and, easily influenced and quite the drama queen that I am, I spent the day thinking about Evil. And to my dismay I couldn't reach any conclusion. Is it good? Is it bad? Can it be said to exist or not, is it something to eradicate or a natural force? Is it just a human flair for drama? That would be depressing, but why?

In proper me-style, I've gone from shirking any thought about anything bigger than breakfast and claiming not to know a single, and I do mean not a single thing about Life, the Unverse and Everything, to aiming for a complete understanding of Human Nature and Creation. Not bad, eh?

In the end, I realize that this isn't really about having something to believe in, but about knowing myself. (That sounds very serious and intelligent, so I'll throw in the reason for this.) How would I really react if someone (tall, hooded, with a dark and slightly hoarse voice oozing testosterone and violent tendecies) materialized before me and said "Join me in the Dark Side and we shall rule the Galaxy, making all tremble in fear before the might of the Sith!" ?

"Yes, please"? 


"Never! I'll fight you, enemy of freedom and all that is good, to my last breath! ?


This is, after all, a scenario we should all be prepared for.

Life's a bitch. I miss Italy. Two months, and it feels like it never happened.

This



will be my new paraglider, as soon as I can convince my dad to lend me 3000€ until August. Hm, yea... Might have to consider prostitution while I wait.

Still, I've made up my mind, and I have some hope. In the end, I'll be the one blowing my entire paycheck on an over-sized table cloth, and I'll do it with a smile.

I found the limit of my patience today. It goes at 5 years.

5 years. For me, with my attentionspan that can best be compared to that of a 3 year old on speed, that's not only amazing but must surely have had divine aid. The gods leant out from their cloud, looked down on the earth and saw a girl staring back, wanting fervently to sprout wings right then and there. Obviously, what they didn't see was the added wish to fly up and kick some divine butt, but that's neither here nor there. The point is, they surely figured that "if she wants to fly so badly, what the hell."

5 years of watching my dad fly. Of him not helping, but rather doing all he could to keep me firmly grounded. Sure, I can get that, who wants their child to face an untimely death between a helicopter and power lines, tall, pointy trees, sheer cliff walls and clouds that suck you up and keep you as a souvenir for a day or two only to let you down as an icicle, but still... It doesn't make me a happy bunny.

So, I'm near flying, finally, happy, euphoric, discovering what's better than any pleasant surprise: that flying is just as good as I thought it would be. No, better, but still just as good.

I guess the style of my writing right now indicates a depressing final point. A leading up to the great, big BUT, where life is crap after all. You're right, of course, life is crap, and for a very simple reason.

I WANT MY FUCKING GLIDER!

Imagine me, the 3 year old on speed, stomping the floor, pouting, with tears in my eyes, because I want it, and I want it now! No more patience, so close that I can taste the clouds, and no actual paraglider in sight for 3 months.

God, I'm such a child. But, argh, WHY can't I finally have what I want!

God I'm getting depressed. And I'm using the word god a lot more then usual. That's a bad sign.

Basically, I desperately need a job. This is too much forced vacation for me. I don't like vacations. I need something to do. Going around at home for 2 weeks is enough to make my brain crawl up in a corner of my scull, rocking gently and wanting to die. And I'm following close behind.

I was very close to throwing stuff today when my mum mentioned my name in the same sentance as the word "job". There was screaming.

How do people survive being unemployed for a long time??? A long time being anything over a month. I'm ready to kill people now. I'm edgy, I'm depressed, I have NO reason to get out of bed in the morning other than bathroom, breakfast and washing the fucking house. I wanted to set fire to the bathroom today (It was yucky).



Arg.

Woyeah! I was flying yesterday! Only 5-6 meters above the ground, but flying none the less! It was brilliant. Got kind of tired of carrying the paraglider up the snow-covered hill all the time, but eh. What can you do?

Anyway, the flying went perfect. I'm not bad at it, and I'm happy. Next time, if I'm lucky (and I think I am), I'll probably get to do my first proper, high in the air flight.

Since the flying went so smoothly, something had to go wrong, of course, and that thing was the teeny tiny attempt to ski down the hill on mini-skis with a huge backpack on my back. I fell flat on my face after 2 meters, thought "ouch", and carried on downwards.
3 hours after I got home, however, my foot started to feel slightly uncomfertable. After another hour, I was jumping around on one foot, cursing the ski-Gods and wanting to amputate.

It's better today (i.e no constant pain), but I'm not walking very well. Any attempt to get down the stairs is done on my butt, and I'm hoping and praying that it'll pass quickly and that there won't be any good days for flying this week. What a thing to hope for...

My newish wiki, Thoughts that scare me is going surprisingly well, meaning that it's actually been discovered, and I'm happy and encouraged and planning a world tour to spread my message of fear and happiness for all to the world.

Since I'm horribly lazy, I can't possibly be bothered with writing two diary notes for two different diaries, so I'm making heavy use of cut and paste. For the full one, should you for some reason be interested, see my website, http://malin.abrahamsen.as .


Important first: My mum told me that my poor, beloved, beautiful, historically important, severely under-financed and loan-ridden schooner Anna Rogde (whos website will soon be in english...) just rescieved [103 910 €] from the Department for Cultural Heritage Management, and it's about bloody time! I have some hopes that this might mean another Tall Ships Race (which this year starts in Ireland...), but whatever happens, the money's great news.


So, Italy. One week to go. No, less, actually! Arg. To tell the truth, I don't know what to think about that. By now, the people on the busses in Turin are making me terribly depressed, but still, leaving people, Italian, ice cream and my bed?? Well, ok, maybe not my bed. Certainly not the hot water tank. Though I'm gonna miss the ants in the bathroom, it's been nice with some housepets, and the fungus on Paulina's wall doesn't move about a lot. Thankfully.


And I was just beginning to read properly! After lending The Little Prince to Alma for 4 months, I just got it back and realised I could read it! Oh joy! I bought Harry Potter a few days ago, and am having a blast. Of course, the fact that I've read it a gazillion times before does help, but I can still read it!
So many good things, and now I must leave. Not near-fainting when people on the street ask me about directions (I know EVERYTHING!), actually following Sonia and Christina's conversations (It's not about me after all. I'm so disappointed.), not to mention following the conversations of people on the bus. Wohoo! Though that one Italian dialect that sounds like Finnish (I swear!) is impossible.
Just typical that now that I'm getting the hang of it, it's over. I'll keep reading, of course, have to buy myself a stack of books before I go, but still. Arg.


Ice cream is self-explanatory. It's the best part of Italy, in my opinion. You just can't get ice cream like that at home, not in the north anyway. Tiramisù ice cream... *goes dreamy-eyed*


So, between Saturday and Tuesday, I decided to go to Ireland and changed my mind about a million times. I even made arrangements for both. Every time I looked at a map I decided to go, and it never lasted. It's all my parents fault, really. If they hadn't come, I wouldn't have gotten homesick and I'd just have stayed in Italy, gone to Rome with the others, then gone on to Ireland like I meant to. Of course, I'd be calling home after a week asking for money, but eh. That's life.


It's not entirely true that it's all my parents fault though. I realized that I've gotten so used to moving once or twice a year that by now, as soon as I feel an ending moving closer, or just plain spring, I get all tickly and start planning. And once I have a plan...well, if I manage to stick to it, I'll be going as soon as possible. And now, this EVS is almost over. I have heaps of plans, like Rome, Ireland, getting a job at home, going sailing and, most importantly, starting to fly (ooh, weeh, finally!! Hight of my existence!), and I just can't sit still.
Yes, it's sad that it's over. Yes, I'll miss my friends, and Turin and everything, but really I can't think about anything but getting going again. Packing up and starting something new. Staying longer in Italy, I don't have the patience for, sorry people, and that's the real reason.


Spring. It's spring, but Turin is gray and asphalty. At home, spring won't come for another two months, perhaps. My mum's planning a three day ski-trip next week. Can you imagine spring in Ireland? Mmm, that'll be brilliant. And then I'll be going home and still have time to go skiing with the family.


I have finally gotten an answer to a question that has been haunting me for a while: [Does the Pope have a passport??] And, yes, he does. A Polish one, and he's still a Polish citizen. The Queen of England however doesn't own one.


My parents left Saturday, and when I was walking from the bus I thought "and I'm alone again", and couldn't deside if this was good or bad. Probably neither. In a way it seems fitting, since my EVS was truly initiated when I was standing on a bus from the plane to the airport in Germany, and I thought "For the first time in my life, I'm truly alone", and I felt more free than I'd ever been. Poetic, neh?

A continuation of the subject below, I think this, the single most frightening incident of my life, deserves it's own entry. I give you:

I had an interesting conversation with [NeverScape] which I figured I'd post here. Some background information: A friend gave me my very first rubber duck for christmas. We've never talked about rubber ducks, but hey, it's a fun presant. The day after, another friend gave me another rubber duck, without knowing of the previous gift. Some days later, my best friend got five glow-in-the-dark...rubber ducks in the mail, from [NeverScape]. My paranoid-gene kicked in...


Don't know if AM told you, but I'm convinced those duckies are evil. I got two duckies myself, from different people, and duckies is not something I usually get. Obviously, it's a conspiracy. They're just waiting for a good moment to do their evil. One of them even had horns. And the other one had cute blue flowers, which is worse. Clear sign of evil.


well, evill duckies they are.. covord in hearts just for disguise... I just thought they were a bit of fun... it's a bit weird to adhere evil properties to some strategically molded plastic..

They do glow in the dark you know... ;)


Yes, I know! Which is good, so you can see them when they come after you. Except that you can't, if you keep them locked down. Arg.

You'd be surprised of the things I can assign evil properties. I've had panick attacks in toy stores. I have witnesses. Anything can be evil, really, and when that many rubber ducks come into my life from different sources, seemingly by "coinsidence", I think it's prudent to be on my guard. Or in Italy.


lill inanimate plastic glow in the dark duck shaped pieces of plastic with hearts imprinted upon them, rarely get up and chase you... unless of course you're mean to them...

evil.. heh.. it's an emotion.. death things are without. But sometimes people enter into a condition where they project a whole variety of stuff onto unknowing victims/objects..

Actually, I don't see why inanimate things can't have feelings. It's thenevr been scientifically proven. And there are heaps of ways rubber ducks can be evil.

I can, by the strength of my fear, force the universe to make them evil, and perhaps also alive, which would be worse.

Or some force external from me and the duck can take posession of it. Of course, then it wouldn't technically be the duck which is evil, but when something is trying to kill you, I don't think you care about the details.

Maybe all rubber ducks are reincarnated people (or ants, whichever) who did wrong in their past life and are forced to be inaninmate, sentient rubber ducks until they are destroyed, at which point they come to haunt me for playing with them.

See? Endless possibilities for evil!


a thing is either on thing or the other, never two things at once.. so the inanimate (which in itself precludes it from doing anything) ducks aren't evil, the crushed souls inhabiting them are.. Furthermore you state they become evil after destroying.. which means... there is no duck...

Death by rubber ducky... basically this statement is teh same as the previous/next one.. reincarnated souls (which in my universe do not exist, but that';s another discussion) ar as external as things get.. And if it's a forceof nature, like a stron gust of wind, hurtling said ducklikepieceofrubber towards you at lethal speed... there's no evilness there...

you can convince yourself that things are evil by shere willpower.. can't argue whith that..

Inanimate at one moment doesn't mean it's inanimate at all times. The evil-duck-spirit within might just wait for a moment to awaken. There can be an ancient curse, bringing the ducks to life whenever someone's mean to it, or even just thinks about hurting it.

True that it's not the duck itself which is evil if it's posessed and then destroyed, but the duck will still be object through which the evil spirit has experienced me, and the prison which has kept it, and so it's the duck which I should fear, for if there was no duck in my posession, the evil probably wouldn't care about me.

And the wind could be evil. Working through the duck. Again, without said duck, I would be in no danger. It's the harm which might come through the duck which is the real essence of the problem.

And anyway, the duck could be just plain evil. Waiting to come alive. Or, a supernatural (evil) being, resting, after a long day of doing harm, in the form of a rubber duck. It's a myth that they're produced, they just appear in the store, longing for some rest and a bath and the soothing company of happy children (for all evil beings have a weakness) playing gently with it. And then, WHAM, along come I!

Or theres above mentioned scenario, except it's not resting, but lurking.


Yup, fear is your friend. It keeps you alive

As good a place for this as any... Lists! Or...a list.


List:x=yeah
{ } Fallen for your best friend?
{x} Made out with JUST a friend?
{x} Made out with the same sex?
{x} Been rejected?
{x} Been in love?
{x} Been in lust?
{x} Used someone?
{ }Piercings?
{x} Been used?
{ } Been cheated on?
{x} Done something you regret?
{x} Considered a life of crime?
{x} Considered being a hooker?
{ } Considered being a pimp?
{ } Are you psycho?
{ } Split personalities?
{ } Schizophrenic?
{x} Obsessive?
{ } Racist?
{ } Obsessive compulsive?
{x} Dream of dead bodies, blood, death, and gore?
{x} Dream of doing those things instead of just seeing them?
{ } Understanding?
{x} Open-minded?
{x} Arrogant?
{x} Insecure?
{x} Interesting?
{ } Hungry?
{ } Friendly?
{x} Smart?
{x} Moody?
{x} Childish?
{x} Independent?
{ } Hard working?
{ } Organized?
{x} Healthy?
{ } Emotionally stable?
{x} Shy?
{x} Difficult?
{x} Attractive?
{X} Bored easily?
{ } Thirsty?
{ } Responsible?
{ } Sad?
{x} Happy?
{ } Trusting?
{x} Talkative?
{x} Original?
{ } Different?
{ } Unique?
{x} Lonely?
{/} Had a bad life? (Haven't we all, to some extent?)
{ } Have a bad life?
{x} Dye your hair? (Shhh...)
{ } Floss daily?
{ } Own a web cam?
{x} Ever get off the damn computer?
{/} Ever done a drug(s)?
{X} Ever drank alcohol?
{/}Suicidal? (Njeh... Which teen isn't? Eh, wasn't.)

I would be very suprised if anyone ever actually reads this (and would also liked to know, merely out of curiosity). I know I never bother to read the diaries of people here, mainly because large amount of them consists entirely of "Oh, I'm so depressed, and GOTH, I should kill myself to spare those around me (depsite the fact that I'm really terribly cool, on account of being so GOTH, and so is merely misunderstood.). The darkness is my only friend (besides my other misunderstood friends, naturally, who like me are terribly original and special, which we show by dressing exactly the same).

And I'm fat.

I think I'll go hurt myself."     <---- DIE!


Don't think I don't pity those poor creatures. I used to SI. For years. I don't think it's a joking matter. I used to wear all black. For years. Made finding one sweater in the ocean of blackness that was my closet a real pain. I used to be depressed. Yes, you guessed it, for years. Even before the blackness and the cutting. You can actually be depressed without being *shutters* goth. AMAZING, huh?


Though I must say, all my attempts at gothness failed pretty fast, as I don't have that "let me suffer into eternity" spirit. Sad, really, since people seem to find walking around in constant gloom and moaning silently about their terrible fate to be so very rewarding. Am I missing something? Is being voluntarily depressed fun?

I know you will most likely say that people don't choose to be depressed. I'll agree. In some cases. Some people are simply depressed, unable to fight it off. Most people, however, choose to be. Yes, I said choose to be. PEOPLE CAN CHOOSE TO BE DEPRESSED. Like they can choose not to be.
But for some reason, people seem to be either completely unaware of this fact, or completely unwilling to do it.


From my diary: "I end up doing anything and everything EXCEPT studying, thus feeling incredibly guilty and depressed and thus avoiding studying even more. No, it doesn't make any sense, yes it's incredibly stupid, but I can't FUCKING HELP IT!

I realised today that self-destructiveness is like gravity. Once it's got a hold, it's VERY difficult to pull away from it. It just keep sucking you in, the bloody thing.
Of course, I usually tend to think that gravity is not so much a law of nature, as a general (entirely voluntary) good idea, but it is a very forcefull good idea, just like self destructiveness is a very forceful bad idea."


I'm all out of things to say, this was just a pointless rant, I didn't actually have a point to make, though it might have seemed that way. Well, only this. Depressed people should stop believing in gravity. It's a stupid thing, really. Probably some form of propaganda from evil squirrels. I blame Foamy! Go blame Foamy.
http://www.illwillpress.com

I don't want to write in my diary, but I'm trying very hard to find reasons to stay online because I have other important things to do and I'm very very self destructive right now. Make any sence?
I have to study. I have an exam 2 months earlier than I'd thought, in 3 weeks, and I'm so not ready for it. So NOT ready for it! And of course, me being the self-destructive idiot that I am, I end up doing anything and everything EXCEPT studying, thus feeling incredibly guilty and depressed and thus avoiding studying even more. No, it doesn't make any sense, yes it's incredibly stupid, but I can't FUCKING HELP IT!

I realised today that self-destructiveness is like gravity. Once it's got a hold, it's VERY difficult to pull away from it. It just keep sucking you in, the bloody thing.
Of course, I usually tend to think that gravity is not in fact a natural law, just a good idea, but it is a very forcefull good idea, just like self destructiveness is a very forceful bad idea.

And I'm getting sucked in and it's getting harder and harder to pull away and I'm gonna utterly and completely fail my ENTIRELY voluntary exams, and be a complete and utter failure and have a miserable time.

Help?

Okay... Now if you're sitting there saying (assuming you're actually reading this) "Why on earth are you still writing? Why don't you just turn off the bloody computer and go study, for fucks sake?", I'll be compelled to punch your nose for telling me the truth.
Which I already know.
And it's not doing any good.
The truth is overrated.
I hate this.
Any good suggestions not involving the truth?

I saw the best Formula 1 race ever today! It was so cool! *waves a McLaren Mercedes flag and cheers*

Okay... I am a weak person! Weak weak! I'm just too easy to "lead astray". Like now. I'm really supposed to be studying. Even got two whole hours off from normal class every friday to study on my own. And here I am... *bad bad*

It's just that I always have such good reasons to do something else that I just can't argue with myself! And even though I have even better reasons for doing what I should, they just never seem to come up...

Everybody hates me. No, of course I don't seriously think that, I'm not stupid. But I am being very paranoid, and at the moment the thought doesn't seem all that crazy. It did at the start of this paranoid period, and I ignored it expecting it to pass as usuall, and it didn't. And now I'm quite ready to believe it. My logic is failing me.

Even if everybody doesn't hate me (I know my mum doesn't, for one), they sure doesn't like me much. And you know what? I don't care if I'm being pathetic right now. I'm depressed, I bloody deserve to be pathetic.

And it seems every girl in school is thinking I'm after her boyfriend. WHY? Stop ruining my life!

I have never in my life been this normal, and never felt this WEIRD! I mean, positively freaky!
I miss my other weird friends.

The glass bubble is back. Haven't seen it since I was 13. Strange, once again I'm the only one who sees it. Well, I think they do, they just don't care enough. Let's just hope it doesn't go black. Depression black.

I'm going deaf. Speak louder.

OH! A DIARY! What fun! *happy dance*

But whoever's going to read this? Why are you reading this? Tell me, tell me! *threatens with ... something unpleasant*

Okay, diary... Wanna know everything I did today? I made lots of waffles.

And this morning I woke up after a big party and felt surprisingly well and my first thought was "I want to go to the stable." So I did.
And I tried to lounge Rita the Horse to get her less stressed, but it didn't work. She kept following me like a puppy. Very annoying, but kinda cute. I think I need more practice, though. And I suspect we're getting another horse tomorrow. A small one judging by the bit. (This is the school stable I'm talking about, btw. Yay for living at school!)

But I'm sure you don't care about horses. Even cool ones. How about...well, no. Don't really have anything interresting to say besides horses today. Tomorrow maybe. I gotta go watch a video of the Spanish ridingschool in Wienna. Now that's cool. *poff*