Less than 24 hours left


So I managed to put my life into 2 suitcases.
I am still trying to imagine that it is less than 24 hours until I find myself in the air somewhere over the sea! Less than 24 hours until I soar over puffy clouds on my way to experience the world!



The only thing that stresses me now is really that I’m not at all stressed out. That I don’t feel more scared. I’m just looking so much forward to this experience. Probably because I’ve been prepared for it for so long now. It feels so right even though it’s so crazy. It is so crazy that I will not see my friends for a whole year. Strange that mom is not going to bother me about to put on a warmer jacket every time I walk out of the door. Crazy that I am not going for another walk with Amelia for a whole year. Strange that I am actually going to move out of my childhood home for good. Strange. Insane. A little sad too. Of course. But I’m just so endlessly excited about what is waiting. So excited that it overshadows most of the negative emotions I have.

A week, dark feeling flows in my stomach, but I am primarily filled with peace. A peace and a joy that I am actually about to do this. That I am actually about to take this step to follow a dream. It’s so good and so unreal at the same time!

I had a last coffee with some friends yesterday. Today, my plan is to relax with mom and dad. I’ll make dinner for them for the last time in an eternity. Spend some time with Amelia. Just enjoy my last hours on Norwegian earth.

Wow.

Goodbye, Dear Norway. I`’ll see you again next Christmas.



Blue hoods shut the world out


Maybe that’s when I feel it.

When the blue hood is pulled tight over my head because of the huge scarf around my neck. When the wind kisses the side of my cheek, while my nose is filled with ice. That is when I understand how small I am and how much power I have over my own thoughts.

How much power I have over the bad feeling that hits me on on a Monday morning. Maybe I understand how I can use this power on all of these small problems I tend to create in my own head. So bad you can feel by nothing.

My shoe is slipping. I did not quite understand what was happening until a numb feeling spreads throughout my head. The pain runs a marathon in there, as if someone have poured a cup of boiling water over me. I lay there for a while. Let my fingertips dance along the thin ice beneath me.

If perfect was a moment, I would define it as now. Here. Cold, wet, left alone, overturned and beaten by the winter. This moment where I realize I’m just me, and how nice that is. In fact, it is absolutely perfect

Blue hoods close the world out. Not just the wind. It just gives you one single perspective. I try to grab my hood…

Maybe I should concentrate on getting up from the cold ground. Instead, I focus on pulling this hood off. Just so that I can see a little more of the world. Do I live with a hood on? Do I let it shut the world out?

Time dancing by



We are all about to leave. 
Each of us to a different end of the world. That’s how it is. That’s how it goes, when we are traveling enthusiasts at the same time, all of us. The gang thorn apart for a little while.

The conversation is flowing in different directions. Some comments about how extremely awkward blogging is makes me smile. Suddenly, I remember that it’s been too long since I blogged. But, hey. I love them. These people who have taken part of my life in one way or another. Some tears have been felt in the recent days. Quite a few actually. Of course it is sad that we are not going to see each other in a year. But it is first and foremost incredibly crazy to think about the fact that the friends I talk with today, are not the same as those I will meet again in one year. I’m probably not the same person either. Maybe it scares me a little. But mostly I am looking forward to it. Looking forward so much that it tickles in my nose. Looking so forward to travel, experience and learn. For an adventure I am about to step into!!

My suitcase has almost been packed for the last four months. Now sixteen weeks have become two. Two weeks of seconds in vacuum that only needs to be filled. Filled with what?
It’s so awful to feel the time go so slow, and just want it to move faster. Just wanting it to dance away. But the best part is that it will soon do just that.




They call it decoration, I call it chaos

Hei der fine leser ❤ 

Julepynt i denne familien kunne  vært tema for en roman alene. Mor og far fascinerte meg meget i år, en av disse første dagene av desember. Plutselig ble huset forvandlet til et stort, glitrende kaos på under et par timer. Noe som liknet uendelige mengder pappesker med glitter og stas befant seg i hele stuen. Nå, noen dager senere henger røde julegardiner litt skjevt i kjøkkenvinduet, juledukene er plassert på bordene, og  hundrevis av nisser har tatt plass i alle kriker og kroker. De kaller det julepynt. Jeg kaller det kaos. Ikke noe system. Ingen matchende fargekombinasjoner. Bare veldig jul.

Jeg vet ikke helt hva det skyldes, men på en eller annen måte har bakken blitt dekket av et hvitt snølag. Jeg krysser fingrene for at det varer til over julaften, til tross for at jeg ikke husker sist det faktisk skjedde.  De fleste julegavene er i boks. 


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Hi there! Christmas decorations in this family could have been the theme of a novel alone. Mom and dad fascinated me this year, one of those first days of December. Suddenly, the house was transformed into a big, sparkling chaos in less than a couple of hours. Something like endless amounts of boxes with glitter filled the entire living room. Now, a few days later, red Christmas curtains cover the kitchen window, and hundreds of mini-santas have taken place in all the corners in this house. They call it Christmas decorations. I call it chaos. No system. No matching color combinations. Just very Christmas ❤ 

I do not quite know what it is due to, but in one way or another the ground has been covered by a white layer of snow. I cross my fingers that it might lasts until Christmas Eve, despite the fact that I do not remember the last thing that actually happened. Most of my Christmas presents are bought by know. 


Jeg har akkurat kommet hjem fra en Sverigetur med Kristin. Det som er fordelen med å dra tidlig, er at du kommer hjem og har hele dagen foran deg. Ulempen er at du føler du må gjøre noe nyttig resten av denne dagen. Fortsette å være produktiv liksom. Det orker jeg egentlig ikke. Derfor er planen å spise vegansk is som dagens litt sene frokost, finne frem dynen og kose-sokkene, og se ferdig et par serier på Netflix.  God førjulstid videre, fine leser.


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I have just returned from shopping in Sweden with Kristin. What is the benefit of driving early is that you come home and have the whole day in front of you. The downside is that you feel you must do something useful the rest of this day. Continue to be productive, you know.  Instead, my plan is to eat vegan ice cream as the day’s late breakfast, find a carpet,  and finish a few series on Netflix. A with you a happy pre-christmas time, dearest you 🙂






To be in the present

 

Den første snøen har rukket å falle, og smelte bort igjen. Kalenderen har rukket å ta turen helt til den åttende dagen i desember. Tiden som gjenstår før jeg flytter til den andre siden av jordkloden har sklidd godt under to måneder. Jeg ble ferdig med min første universitetseksamen på tirsdag, og  kjøpt en hel haug med nye jus-bøker. En eneste julegave har ikke blitt handlet enda. Sånn. Det oppsummerte vel sånn omtrent hele mitt fravær her på bloggen, og litt til. 

 

 

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The first snow has already fallen, and melted again. The calendar has turned to the ninth day in December. It is not much time remaining before I am moving to the other side of the globe. I finished my first university exam last Tuesday, and I have bought a whole bunch of new books for law-studies. A single Christmas gift has not been bought yet. Well. That probably summed up just about all my absence here on the blog, and a little more.

 

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Hei, fineste du. God søndagskveld. Det var som om en milliard kilo fjernet seg fra skuldrene mine da jeg logget meg inn på PC-en i eksamenslokalet. Før jeg i det hele tatt hadde begynt å svare på en eneste oppgave, var eksamen ferdig i hodet mitt. Det var over. Etter noen intense lesedager sånn i siste liten, skjedde det utroligste. Jeg begynte å få sikkelig motivasjon. Begynte å sette pris på læring igjen, og like lesesaler. 

Så sånn skjedde det vel egentlig. At jeg bestemte meg for å fortsette litt med dette. Å studere altså. Planen er å ta litt av et enkeltemne mens jeg er i Australia, og ta eksamen når jeg kommer hjem igjen. Plutselig er jeg i ferd meg å begynne på jus, uten å helt vite hvordan. Men jeg gir det en sjanse, så får vi se. 

 

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Well. Hello there. Sweet, sweet you! Good Sunday evening. It was as if a billion kilos removed from my shoulders when I logged in to the PC in the exam room. Before I had started answering a single task, the exam was already finished in my mind. It was over. After some days with intense reading, something awesome happened … I started to get real motivation. I began to appreciate learning again, and these reading rooms. That’s how it ended up in me deciding to keep up with this. Studying I mean. Law actually. The plan is to take a subject while I’m in Australia, and take the exam when I return home. Suddenly I’m about to start with law studies, without even knowing how. But I want to give it a shot, so let’s see how it ends 😉 

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Håret var dryppende vått, og vann rant kaldt nedover ryggen min. Det er visst sånn det går når man har vært og badet, og glemt å ta med håndkle. Jeg hadde trippet forsiktig på tærne gjennom hele damegarderoben. Splitter naken, og gjennomvåt. Jeg hadde etterlatt meg store vanndammer hele veien mot skapet, før jeg klarte å finne frem en ren t-skjorte som fikk gjøre susen. 

Vi ble sittende litt i rommet utenfor, og drikke sitronvann. Ylva hadde nettopp minnet meg på hvor viktig det er å være i øyeblikket. Hun hadde til og med lagt inn en liten bekymring vedrørende min overdrevne sosiale medier bruk – som jeg tør påstå er omtrent gjennomsnittlig. Allikevel gravde jeg frem mobilen mens hun satt og leste. Hun hadde et par bøker til liggende der på det ærverdige bordet. Bare for å minne meg på at det er en mer verdifull tidsbruk enn instagram.  Alt var så fint her på bislet bad, og jeg konkluderte lett med at vi måtte ta en tur til før jeg drar. Jeg svidde så veldig over øyelokkene, etter voksingen hos en såkalt “øyenbrynsekspert” Jeg har hatt stygge øyenbryn i hele mitt liv, så jeg tenkte det var innafor å bruke den beskjedne sum av 430 kr på å se litt normal ut. Er ikke det fortjent etter livets første universitetseksamen da? Noen minutter inn i evigheten hadde jeg plutselig en bok i hånden selv. Lot øynene gli litt over ordene før jeg konkluderte at gårsdagens eksamen hadde tatt all konsentrasjon for en stund. Jeg orket bare ikke. Fant derfor heller frem litt foundation og gjorde et iherdig forsøk på å dekke rødheten etter øyenbryns-behandlingen. 

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My hair was dripping wet, and water ran cold down my back. That is indeed how it goes when you’ve bathed, and forgot to bring your towel. I had tripped carefully on my toes throughout the women wardrobe. Totally naked, and soaked. I had made big water ponds all the way to the closet before I managed to find a clean t-shirt that worked as an alternative towel.

We were sitting in the room outside the swimmingpool for a while, drinking lemon water. Ylva just reminded me of how important it is to be in the moment. She even told me how concerned she was about my social media use – as I dare claim is about average. Still, I scrolled down my  phone while she was reading a book. Ylva had a couple of books more lying there on the table next to us. Just to remind me that it’s a more valuable time-consuming than instagram. Everything was so nice there at “The bislet bath” , and I easily concluded that we have to go there another time before I am leaving. I hurted over my eyelids, because of the waxing done by a so-called “eyebrow expert” I’ve had really ugly eyebrows throughout my entire life, so I thought it was okey to use the modest amount of 430 norwegian kroner to look a little normal. Is it not like deserved, after my life’s first university exam ? A few minutes into eternity, I suddenly had a book in my hand. After a few pages, I concluded that the exam from the day before, had taken all my concentration for a while. I just could not read anymore. Therefore, I found a little foundation and made an real attempt to cover redness after the eyebrow treatment.

 

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Vi hadde tatt trikk og t-bane. Drukket kaffe, og snakket om hvilke tatoveringer vi har lyst til å ta. Skravlet i vei om fremtiden. Om drømmer og idiotisk usannsynlige mål vi begge har planter om å fullføre. Fy som jeg kommer til å savne henne. Et helt år. Det virket plutselig så lenge. 

Noen minutter senere satt jeg på toget hjem. Litt tenkende på dette med nuet. En litt spesiell, eldre dame hadde satt seg ved siden av meg. Hun forsvant inn på do hvert femtende minutt. Det forstyrret meg litt egentlig. Jeg klarte ikke å tenke på så fryktelig mye annet enn at hun trolig hadde diaré. 

Det har blitt litt mer vinter siden disse bildene ble tatt, men jeg oppdaget plutselig at jeg ikke hadde delt dem, så da var det jo på tide. Ønsker dere alle en god søndagskveld, og en fin start på uken ❤ 

 

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We had taken the subway, been drinking coffee, and talked about what tattoos we would like to take. Talked about the future. About dreams, and unlikely goals we both plan to complete. I’m gonna miss her. A whole year. It seems so long.

A few minutes later I sat on the train home. Thinking about this with the present. An older lady sat down next to me. She disappeared into the toilet, every fifth minute. It really disturbed me. I was unable to think about so  much more than that she probably had diarrhea.

It has become a little more winter since these pictures were taken, but I suddenly realized that I had not shared theses photos before, so it was about time. I just want to wish everyone a good Sunday evening, and a nice start of the week ❤

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Would it be a lie to say that you know me at all?

God onsdag fine du. Så var vi visst halvveis i denne uken også 🙂

Jeg må bare begynne med å skryte litt av meg selv, for jeg er faktisk ganske stolt. Det er under
en uke til eksamen, og i dag oppdaget jeg faktisk at jeg kan akkurat litt mer enn ingen ting. Det er faktisk ganske imponerende, synes jeg. Så jeg tror faktisk jeg kommer til å stå. Hvem hadde trodd at jeg skulle klare å motivere meg selv til selvstudium, så skolelei som jeg er? Ikke jeg i alle fall … 

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Happy  Wednesday, sweet you. So, we are actually half done with this week too …

I just have to start with bragging about myself, because I’m actually quite proud. It’s under a week to my exam, and today I actually realized that I know just a little more than nothing. It’s actually quite impressive I think. So I actually think I can to this. Pass the exam, I mean. Who had thought that I would be able to motivate myself for self-study, so sick of school as I am? Not me at least … ❤ 

Men kan vi snakke om kunsten “å skrive” ?

For jeg skulle virkelig ønske at jeg kunne slutte å snakke, og bare skrive alt jeg tenkte ut i luften. For alltid. For jeg sier så mye dumt. Ærlig. Og som regel sier jeg ikke det jeg tenker en gang. Og ikke det folk vil høre. Jeg tar meg selv i å bable en hel haug med ord, som ingen er interessert i å høre. Hverken meg selv eller noen andre. Å skrive derimot. Det er helt annerledes. 



“Når jeg skriver får jeg sagt det jeg ikke får sagt når jeg snakker, om du skjønner?”

Jeg skulle virkelig ønske at jeg kunne stoppe midt i et øyeblikk, og finne frem en penn for å skrive ned det jeg tenkte. Så kunne jeg bare holdt arket opp, og latt andre lese det. For når du snakker har du så ekstremt kort tid til å reagere. Altså tankeprosessen fra noen spør deg om noe til du er forventet å komme med et sant, ærlig og velformulert svar, er faktisk ganske kort. Kriminelt kort. Det kan hende jeg bare er treg i oppfatningen, men jeg rekker aldri å tanke så fort jeg. Og noen ganger har jeg ikke fått med meg hverken hva jeg har blitt spurt om, eller hva jeg har svart. 

For refleksjon krever visst litt tid i hjernen min. Det er ganske mange faktorer som spiller inn, og må beregnes og vurderes. Det rekker jeg aldri. I alle fall ikke når jeg blir spurt om sånne skrekkelige spørsmål om fremtiden. De det er forventet at jeg skal ha et svar på, selv om jeg egentlig bare er midt i en refleksjonsprosess uten et ordentlig svar. Så sitter jeg der da. Vel klar over at tankene mine er et helt annet sted, og at jeg bare har handlet på ren refleks. Igjen. Noen ord har åpenbart sluppet ut av munnen min, men jeg har ingen aning om hvor de kom fra.

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But can we talk about the art of writing?

Because I really wish I could stop talking and just write everything I thought. Like. In the air. Forever. Because I say so much stupid. Honestly. And mostly, I do not even say what I think. And not what people want to hear. I actually just talk a whole lot of words that no one is interested in hearing. Neither myself nor anyone else. To write on the other hand … that is completely different.

“When I write, I can tell you what I do not say when I speak”

I really wish I could stop in the middle of a moment, and find a pen to write down what I was thinking. Then I could just keep the sheet up and let others read it. Because when you speak, you have so short time to respond. I mean… the thought process from someone asks you something until you are expected to come up with a true, honest and well-formulated answer, is actually quite short. Criminally short.

I may be slow in perception, but I never think that fast. And sometimes I have not listened to neither what I’ve been asked about nor what I’ve answered. For reflection, some time is required. There are many factors that must be calculated and assessed. I never have the time to go there. At least not when I’m asked about those terrible questions about the future. 
I am expected to have an answer, even though I’m just in the middle of a reflection process without a proper answer at all. Then I’m sitting there. Being aware of the fact that my mind is completely different, and that I have only acted on pure reflexes. Again. Some words have obviously escaped from my mouth, but I have no idea where they came from or what they were trying to say.

En tanke som raser gjennom meg da er hva mine nærmeste egentlig 
tenker om meg. Kjenner de meg egentlig i det hele tatt? Har de egentlig noen aning om hvem denne jenta er? For jeg tror kanskje jeg sier en tiendedel av det jeg tenker i en gitt situasjon, og omtrent åttifem prosent av det er ureflekterte svar. Jeg er rett og slett en av de menneskene du bare må ta med en klype salt. Kan jeg beskyldes for å lyve når jeg svarer noe annet enn en absolutt sannhet? Hva om sannheten er under konstruksjon da?
Fordi den ikke er skapt helt enda, fordi jeg ikke har valgt alt helt enda?  Kanskje gjør det meg sosialt tilbakestående, men jeg får aldri sagt alt 
når jeg snakker. Jeg får sagt alt når jeg skriver. Derfor skriver jeg,  og derfor er det en risikosport for deg å lese alt dette. For du vet jo ikke hva som plutselig kan dukke opp, og hva slags person dette egentlig er. 

Men. På den andre siden … hvis jeg tenker som dette er jeg sannsynligvis ikke alene om det. Med andre ord kan vi egentlig stille spørsmålstegn ved hvorvidt noen av oss vet noe om noen.


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A thought that rages through me is what my closest friends really think of me. Do they really know me at all? Do they even have any idea about who this girl is? Because I think maybe I say a tenth of what I think in a given situation, and about eighty five percent of that is unreflected answers. 

I’m simply one of the people you just have to bring a pinch of salt. Can I be accused of lying when I answer anything but an absolute truth? What if the truth is under construction then? Because it’s not entirely created because I have not chosen everything yet?

Perhaps it makes me socially awkward creature, but I’ll never say everything when I speak. I’ll say everything when I write. That’s why I write, and therefore it’s a risky sport to read all of this. Because you do not know what can suddenly appear, and what kind of person this really is. 

But on the other hand. If I am thinking like this, I am most likely not alone. In other words we could actually be questioning if we even know anything about anyone.  

It`s actually beginning to look a lot like winter


“Det var på morgenen i dag jo. Husker du ikke det en gang, eller?”

Brillene henger ganske langt nedover nesen hans, og hodet er på skakke. Han skjærer den grimasen som jeg synes er så veldig søt. Et oppgitt uttrykt på en ertete måte. Julemusikken klinger i bakgrunnen. I år satte han den faktisk på før jeg begynte å mase om at det var på tide. Det nærmer seg jo desember nå. For første gang er jeg den i dette huset som har tenkt minst på jul. Tanken har nesten ikke slått meg en gang. 

Jeg tenker faktisk bare på at jeg snart skal flytte til Australia, og bruke et helt år på å lese i bibelen og rope halleluja. Også sniker det seg inn noen tanker om at jeg har eksamen om under en uke, en gang i blant. Men det gjelder jo å luke ut disse negative tankene da, ikke sant?

Ja. Så det var altså denne morgenen. Jeg hadde plutselig glemt om det var i går eller i dag. At han plutselig kom spaserende inn på rommet mitt der jeg lå i min dypeste søvn. Om jeg hadde lyst på kaffe? Nei. Jeg hadde lyst til å sove. Men det hadde jeg visst gjort for lenge nå. Han prøver å smiske litt med meg. Jeg vet det. Pappaen min. Gleder seg ikke så fryktelig mye til at jeg skal flytte til andre siden av jordkloden. Men jeg kommer jo tilbake igjen da. Så en kopp kaffe på sengen er ikke nok for å få meg til å bli. Godt forsøk da. Den skal han ha.


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“It was this morning. Earlier today. Do you not remember anything?”

The glasses is placed far down his nose, and his head is laid a bit to the side. He shows off a grimace that I think is so sweet. He is irritated and silly at the same time. Christmas music plays in the background. This year he actually started playing it before I began to realize that it was time. It is approaching December now. For the first time, I am the one in this house that has barley been thinking about Christmas. The thought has hardly even hit me.

In fact, I’m just thinking about moving to Australia, spend a whole year reading the Bible and shouting hallelujah. Of course I have some thoughts about the fact that I have an exam in less than a week. But it is important to exclude these negative thoughts, right?

Yes. So it was this morning. I had suddenly forgotten if it was yesterday or today. That he suddenly walked into my room where I was in my deepest sleep. If I wanted coffee? No. I wanted to sleep. But I had done that for a long time. He is trying to be extra nice to me these days.  I know. Dad. He is not so excited about me moving to the other side of the globe. But I’ll be back again. So a cup of coffee on the bed is not enough to make me stay. Good try. He is cute like that.



Jeg hadde egentlig tenkt å skrive om denne søndagsfølelsen. Den som sniker seg innpå deg på søndagskvelden og du innser at helgen er over. For meg er den nok en god blanding av at jeg både sover mindre i helgene, og gjør mer. Jeg har i disse dager en tendens til å presse de fleste gjøremålene sammen til denne siste delen av uken. Det er helt idiotisk siden jeg er en av de få menneskene som har god tid i ukedagene. 

Uansett hadde jeg tenkt til å skrive om hvordan søndagskvelden alltid gjør meg melankolsk. Også varer denne følelsen til godt ute på mandagen. Jeg har fått det som en dårlig vane å spare alle negative tanker til da. Samle dem opp på en måte. Også plager jeg meg selv med å grave dem frem da. Når jeg er utslitt, og sur. Selvmedlidenhet. Jeg vet at det egentlig er totalt unødvendig å la seg tenke gjennom alt det der. Men så har jeg en fiks idé om at det er viktig å føle litt på det triste også. Føle litt på sinne og frustrasjon. Fremfor å fortrenge det i all evighet, til det plutselig hoper seg opp. Jeg har en teori om at det skjer med alt for mange nemlig.

Som resultat av alt dette har jeg begynt å skrive sanger på ekte. Altså. Det vil si at jeg gjør et forsøk på å skrive sanger. Får fikse ideer midt på natten, etter disse tanke-seansene mine, og løper ned til pianoet for å slå noen akkorder. Det er ikke akkurat sånn at de er noen slagere disse sangene. Ikke noen musikalske mesterverk, eller noe som er verdt å høre for noen andre enn Ylva i ny og ne. Men det er ikke akkurat derfor jeg gjør det heller. For de omhandler som regel de følelsene, som raser gjennom meg på søndagskvelden. Ja. Akkordene er definitivt i moll. 


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I really intended to write about this Sunday feeling. The one who sneaks on to you late Sunday night, and you realize that the weekend is over. To me, it’s probably just a good mix of sleeping less on weekends, and doing more. I have a tendency to squeeze most of the tasks together for this last part of the week. It’s quite idiotic since I’m one of the few people who have good time during weekdays.

Anyway, I was going to write about how Sunday nights always makes me a bit melancholy.  I’ve got it as a bad habit to save all the negative thoughts to that part of the week. Gather them in a way. I often bother to dig them out at that time. When I’m exhausted and angry. Self-pity. I know that it is totally unnecessary to think about all that. But I have this idea that it’s important to feel a bit sad too. Feel a little bit of anger and frustration. Instead of displacing it forever.

As a result of all of this I have started to write songs for real. That is, I’m making an attempt to write songs. I get these ideas in the middle of the night, following these thought-seans of mine, and run down to the piano to play some chords. It’s not exactly that they are musical masterpieces, or something that is worth hearing for anyone other than Ylva. But that’s not exactly why I do either. Because they usually concern the feelings that rage through me on Sunday nights. Yes. They  are definitely in minor chords.


It has begun to look like winter now. I saw it in the frost that had settled on the ground earlier today. It's cold outside, and hot inside.

I managed to persuade my mom to look at a slightly dramatic, crime series with me. It usually does not happen. She is way too easily scared for that.

Det har begynt å gå mot vinter nå. Jeg så det i frosten som hadde lagt seg på bakken tidligere i dag. Det er kaldt ute, og varmt inne. 

Jeg klarte å overtale mamma til å se på en litt dramatisk, krimliknende serie i stad. Det går som regel ikke. Hun er alt for pysete for sånt. Taktikken var å bare sette den på, og satse på at hun syntes den var like spennende som meg. Så der satt vi i sofaen under dynen, drakk julebrus, og så på død og fordervelse. Akkurat sånn som jeg liker det. Det får meg til å slappe sikkelig av. Mamma orket bare å se de tre første episodene. Jeg hadde ikke noe imot å bli liggende for å se de tre neste også. Det var visst hele serien det. Jeg har alltid vært en person som fullfører det jeg begynner på. Jeg er grei sånn.

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It has begun to look like winter now. I saw it in the frost that had settled on the ground earlier today. It’s cold outside, and hot inside.

I managed to persuade my mom to look at a slightly dramatic, crime series with me. It usually does not happen. She is way too easily scared for that. The tactic was to just put it on, and cross my finger that she thought it was as exciting as I. Then we sat on the couch under a carpet, drank Christmas-soda, watching death and corruption. Just the way I like it. It makes me feel so relaxed. Mom got enough after watching the first three episodes. I did not mind lying there to see the next three as well. Ups. That was the whole series… I have always been a person who completes what I’m starting. I’m nice like that.