i realized i still haven’t written about when i “stumbled upon” neil gaiman.

tuesday was the day of the “international author scene” interview with mr. gaiman. i hadn’t been able to score tickets because everyone else was apparently just a bit more eager than i, but i did manage to see it on a screen. kind of. they did a live screening in the movie theatre, for the fans who still wanted to see it really badly. at first the stream was high def but lagged every five seconds, and then it was kind-of-but-not-fully low def with no lag. i enjoyed it nevertheless, but really wished i was there seeing it live. you know that “oh so unfair i want to be there more than anything” feeling you get when you’re witnessing something but not really participating in it.

anyways, gaiman was lovely.

so after the interview, kiki (who’d been with me all along) and i roamed around in the building, looking for the signing. the woman (girl?) who’d told us about the screening said that we’d get to go even though we only had tickets to the screening, which was why i’d been so keen. i mean that’s a sweet deal. turns out, there wouldn’t be a signing. i was pretty bummed. however, i’d heard that he was doing a signing at the science fiction book store the next day, so i figured i’d give that a shot. but. to get your book signed at 4 pm, you had to go to the store at 10 am to get a ticket for the line. so i was like oh god how am i going to manage that, but fine okay i’ll try.

okay parallel plotline: the same day as the interview, i’d gotten an email from swedish television (the network, not the concept as a whole), inviting me to the recording of the final episode of this great tv programme about literature. it was to happen the next day, and i was welcome to bring friends. i’d signed myself up to be an audience member a couple of months ago, but school had come in the way. i guess i was still on the mailing list. anyways, it sounded really fun so i thought why not. i wrote in my class group on fb, asking if anybody felt tempted. and sure enough, i’d be accompanied by three classmates.

i mean it seems really obvious now that it has all played out, but i was completely clueless at the time.

when my alarm went off at 8 am, after having gotten about three hours of sleep, it was pretty obvious that i was not going to get that ticket to the signing. i was meant to be going to a morrissey sing-along with some people from my class later that night (referenced in a previous post), and just no i needed the fuel. so i figured i’d just show up at 4 pm, after the recording, and wish for the best. i turned my head to the ceiling and said: “please god let it all work out. i love you regardless, but it’d be really neat.” and then i went back to sleep.

some hours later, at 1:30 pm, i was standing in line with my classmates and the rest of the audience members. breathless and weak-legged from having stressed my way to the subway, and then to the bus, and then to the television studio; i was starting to get excited. that familiar bubbly sensation was starting to rise in me. a couple of minutes later, we were escorted into the studio and wow this was what it looked like in real life. it was lighter and less intense than it looked on tv. it kind of reminded me of a starry sky; midnight blue background and spots of artificial light scattered everywhere. now i was really excited.

so we sat down, and i started thinking about who the guests might be. i remember thinking that it’d be fun if i knew who at least one of them was, but that it wouldn’t matter as long as they were nice to listen to. at least i’d get to see the host, who was a phenomenon in and of herself. she’d come to be one of those people, you know, who you have a picture of in your head, thinking wow. more about that later. so a lady came out, some kind of executive producer i think, and started to explain what was happening. she told us about when to clap and not, and what was happening in the episode. she told us that it’d be an extra special episode, and that the guests were this pretty major swedish children’s book author (at which i thought oh that’s nice) and also neil gaiman.

wait, what?

neil gaiman?

neil gaiman.

neil gaiman.

the gasps echoed through the audience. i. freaked. out. silently but still very much outwardly. what are the odds what are the odds this is the best day of my life what are the odds, is pretty much what my head sounded like.

so then the host came out, and i had another gasp-moment, but not as big (sorry but i mean come on it was post bomb-drop). she’s one of those people who you can tell has had a lot of time to just grow into themselves. big curly auburn hair, sides pinned back. thin, but naturally so. cream and black colored form-fitted dress that flares out at the waist, matching shrug. burgundy colored lipstick. really high black wedge ankle boots. you know the kind of people who wear an outfit that makes you go not a single other person on this earth could pull this off except them? yeah, one of those. (i mean she has an ampersand tattooed on her arm – love her.) she was really nice and graceful and relaxed. not as intense as on television, and still a total pro. such a cool woman.

art by daria hlazatova

when the recording started, there were some segments and a really charming interview with the first author. it was lovely to watch, but my head was still reeling from the notion that neil gaiman was in the building and about to walk out. and then, during a break in recording, he was just standing there to the left of us. like, within an arm’s reach. just like, right there. i remember thinking jesus, warn a girl you can’t just walk out like its nothing. dressed in all black; blazer, slacks and a sweater. relaxed posture, hands held behind back. the iconic, stormy hair. i tried to not stare like a freak while the tv people explained how it would all go down. i am certain i failed but whatever i was awestruck okay?

and then the interview. i think that we were all enchanted. earlier today, i saw that the host tweeted that you could probably see the exact moment when she fell in love with him, and to that i say – my sentiments exactly. eloquent, and relaxed, and kind, and smart. witty, soft-spoken, puts the backs of his hands against each other while explaining something,  and his british isn’t pronounced but present nevertheless. he spoke about life, and his wife, and about how he lived as much in books as he did anywhere else and i just sighed wistfully.

by the time the interview was over, i was traversing on periwinkle clouds. then i became very determined to get my sandman (preludes & nocturnes, of course) signed, because wow this was the chance i didn’t know i’d been waiting for. so i went to the executive producer lady and asked if there was a chance, she said something like i’m not sure he might come out the back but you can’t go backstage. so then i scurried off in a panicky flurry thinking okay the back the back wait what back? after running around i walked outside the studio, to see him standing there, taking a picture with a very happy-looking young man. then neil gaiman started walking toward the exit.

without thinking, i went up to him and said so sorry, do you think you have time for one more signing? and then neil gaiman, so soft-spoken and nice, said of course. by this point i was shaking and digging around in my backpack, muttering where is it where is it and then oh there it is! he asked how i spell my name and i spelled it out all nervously and then added that it was quite unusual (yes hi my name is captain obvious, and you?). and then he said very pretty. neil gaiman said that my name was very pretty. i just thought !! and then ranted on about oh thank you so much this is a favorite of mine it means so much. and he just smiled and looked all soft-spoken and witty and wise and sweet and then he added a “love” to the signature. neil gaiman sent me his love. !!. i accepted the book, still shaking because come on what is this even. and then he went on and i just proceeded to freak out outside the tv studio for about five minutes before continuing with my day.

conclusion: these things just don’t happen. my day/year/life is made. i’m a little bit in love with neil gaiman.




donna tartt. small stature. impeccably fitted black suit, white shirt, red tie. patent oxfords. silky, perfectly straight hair – parted in the middle, cutting her chin. relaxed posture, spread out in her chair. confident. straight forward. enunciates, with clear t’s. doesn’t laugh if it isn’t funny. doesn’t give stupid answers to stupid questions. private. not harsh, despite probable interpretation of description. sometimes has to start a sentence over several times to find the right wording. genuine. dignified. sharp. very, very cool.

i don’t think i’ve ever seen a person resonate with the “me”, that i’m aspiring to let myself be,  to the extent that she did. it’s strange, because she meant so much to me already – as the author of a book that changed me. and now we have the author herself. regardless of the sometimes questionable interviewer, she was perfect. inspiring.

the paper trembled with the shake of my hand as i prepared to have my book signed. opened to the right page, post-it with the spelling of my name ready. i stood in line, constantly looking past the other people in front of me to see her interactions with them. should i tell her how much the secret history means to me? how it took me to a world that was here and yet not here at all, and how that’s when i learned what real magic was? what writing could do? should i tell her that the first thing i wrote, that strangers could read and knew i wrote, was about her book? that it basically was me trying to get the whole world to read it, even though i knew it was only read by about a hundred people? should i tell her all that?

no, i thought. i don’t think she’s that kind of person. everyone’s just saying thank you and running away. she’s having to say “bye!” to countless backs, i think she already left minutes ago, really. and then it was my turn. and i shook, and said hi!, voice softer and an octave higher than dignified. she smiled a little and asked me how i was. i don’t think she ever smiles with even the slightest hint of a lie. the blood rushed through my ears and i think that i made sounds that equal me replying. she saw the post-it and asked: “is this your real name?” i said yes, and she asked how it’s pronounced. i told her, and as she was signing, she nodded her head and repeated it almost perfectly. r rolled and all.

a thought came into existence and decided to make an instant appearance. i just have to say that you’re my absolute favorite writer. in that moment, it was the total truth. i could hear it in my own voice, as if it was separate from me. she looked up into my eyes, and said thank you so much. as if it was the most natural thing in the world, we reached out at the same time and shook hands. warm. firm, but not harsh. earnest. thank you so much for signing, it really means a lot. thank you for coming, she replied. have a nice evening, i said and almost turned to leave. she spoke again. thank you. take care. time paused for just a nanosecond. you too!, i said, voice turning soft and an octave above dignified once more. then i sped off, thinking silent shouts to myself.

wow. so, so cool.


(ps. happy birthday, blog. one year already. time is an illusion with the ability of aviation.)

cinco seis

Tanigami Konan Lilies 1917

i. fourteen days ago, i went and had a vein tapped. a blood donation. three days ago, i received a text message from the hospital thanking me. telling me that the blood i gave was given to a patient. tears fell down my cheeks. ever since those fourteen days ago, i’ve felt this warmth inside. as if the blood was replaced with light.

ii. a woman flirted with me today. i was flustered. a person flirted with me today. i was flustered.

iii. we sat outside, preparing for our visit at the kindergarten. i closed my eyes and faced the sun, turning like a leaf, yearning for the rays. it was a regular day at school, expected to be mundane. it was bliss.

iv. down on the west coast, they got a saying.

v. i’ve applied for courses. plural. three. black holes & cosmic explosions, astronomy, creative writing. i keep my eggs in baskets. plural. x.

vi. continuará.

march 9


sunday was earl sweatshirt and i was worn as fuck when i woke up. i quickly shook that off, thanking the stars that i hadn’t drunk much the night before. hangovers are not as easy to shake. so the day really began come evening, when kiki came over. that’s when i broke out the beer, and she broke out the tequila. i soon followed her lead, and she followed mine a little bit at the end. tequila is shady as fuck, okay. it doesn’t sit bad in the stomach, but it definitely doesn’t sit good. it’s just weird. i think i called it devil’s sweat at some point, and i stand by that statement. almost-two beers and apparently one shot for me, the rest of that second beer and apparently one shot for kiki, and we were both beginning to feel that familiar warm fuzziness. buzzed. and to the subway we went.

one train ride later, we began to walk towards our destination. i am (probably too) proud to say that i managed to remember the way to the club, despite 1. having been there only once. 2. having the worst sense of direction in the history of anything ever. so we reached our destination and got in line. when scoping the scene, we realized that nope there are no hot males and jesus why is everyone so white? fucking hipsters. on a positive note, we only saw about a handful of “swag” people. now that i think of it, there were a lot of skater dudes (white tee, long hair, chucks) there too, which is fine i guess. so we hung out and i think that this is where i started getting pumped. before, i’d been like, oh whatever it’ll be cool we’ll listen to some good music and just chill…

but then we got in, and checked in our jackets and joined the crowd… and there were a fuckton of people in front of us, and they were pretty much all dudes. there was some really good music playing, and kiki and i were dancing, getting hyped, and people were just like bobbing their heads and feeling cool… and i just felt a little aggro. not angry, not at all, but like hah fuck you i’m going to stand in front of all of you, no way in hell am i going to stand behind you. so when taco came out, and then earl himself, shit got real. we just pushed, and jumped, and pushed some more. and slowly but surely, we managed to get up to the front, to the point where we had circa three people in front of us. and we were just thrashing around with the dudes, giving as much bruises as we got. it was sweaty and gross and pretty great.

bottles were being smashed and everything was sticky. one dude said to another that the shards of glass was making it hard to mosh, “everyone’s wearing chucks heh.” yeah okay. a+ moment was when earl said this is for the girls, or ladies, or whatever, and he sounded a little sarcastic, but then sunday came on and that’s my favorite song and i was just like yesssss this songggg. a+ moment was when earl and taco fucked with each other because aw they seem like such bros. a+ moment was that i managed to get up to the very front when they were doing the “let’s touch hands with the crowd” thing and have both of them take mine. it was like solid proof that yep, we’re at the front. mission accomplished.

after the concert, kiki and i went to a 7-eleven and bought some water and a cold hot chocolate that’s called basically idiot in swedish. i hadn’t had that shit in years, but it’s just delicious as i remember. kiki got a hot dog and then we went back downtown, home to the ghetto. i was pretty spent, and by this point, my soaked hair had turned into a sweat-crusted half-fro. so one shower later, i was ready to turn myself in (after skyping with kiki for about two hours). all in all, a great time. these days, going out means taking over the night, and i’m so ready to do it again and again and again and again. i want to conquer everything.

march 8


saturday was international women’s day (females, congrats, you’re the fucking best), so after work, i got dressed up and headed uptown. a latte and some roaming later, bff and i met up with some other friends to go to the demonstration/manifestation/thing for women’s rights in society. it wasn’t very organized, but the atmosphere was really great. actually, the atmosphere could be felt on the streets the whole night, a lot of celebratory young people. after hanging at the demo, a few of us went to this club/venue to try to score some last-minute tickets for a huge feminist party that was going to take place later that night. we’d been a bit too casual, thinking that you’d probably be able to buy tickets at the door, while everyone else had been on that shit like a month before. luckily, we weren’t the only ones thinking like that. former classmate a and his girlfriend h had tickets, but not their friends e and e2 (romantically involved).

a went kind of awol after graduation, so we hadn’t hung out with him much at all before these past couple of weeks. he’d just gotten together with h, and isn’t really good at balancing relationships in general. so the people from that whole high school gang that bff and i actually had been hanging out with a bit after graduation were mainly ag and jo, and also ag’s ex v. but then a randomly texted me and bff a couple of weeks ago, asking if we wanted to come to the housewarming party he was throwing with h and e, because they’d scored this penthouse (rich people) that they had until the summer. so bff and i had been like sweet, a party, and gone knowing basically one person that was going to be there. while there, we got to hang out with a’s gang a bit and all hit it off really well and it was funny cause we’d all gone to high school together but interaction was unfathomable back then because of high school reasons.

um yeah, like i said, we left ag and jo at the demo with another friend, to try to score last-minute tickets. we didn’t succeed… or, well, we could have, but the deal was basically that if you went in (at 7 pm) you’d have to stay the entire evening, ’cause if you went out, you wouldn’t be let back in. this was going to keep going until 3 am and we hadn’t had dinner so we said fuck that shit and decided that we’d wing it and come back later. so the guys were like yo let’s get pizza and chill at our place for a bit. i called jo and she said that they were going to stay at the demo a bit more, and join us later (which they didn’t, because they wanted to grab a quick bite and go to the party early).

so we went and bought some pizza, a couple of (gross) beers (the liquor store was closed, no good stuff) and some cranberry juice. at the apartment, we ate and chatted, and thinking about it now, i’m a little baffled over how not-awkward it all was. after dinner, we made cosmos (cranberry juice – explained). but whoa whoa whoa, i totally forgot to mention: at the demo, while standing with ag and jo (before meeting a and co), i’d been like: “hmm, i have a feeling that i’ll drink something pink tonight…. like a cosmo or something. for women.” a couple of hours later, voilà – and no, it wasn’t my idea. i hadn’t mentioned anything. it was great though.

after hanging around a bit more, we went back to the club to see if we could get in but surprise, the bouncer said nó. so we walked like three steps to burger king to meet a couple of more of a and co’s friends that we’d met before, at the party, they’d just scored tickets off someone and were trying to stash a bottle of rum so that it wouldn’t get confiscated at the door. after the girl managed to stuff the bottle down her bra, she and her boyfriend headed off together with a and h, who’d had some complications with their tickets before. those two have a wonderful dynamic that plays out in everything they do together. so a forgets to print out their tickets, and h gets pissed off. a says that it’s fine even if they don’t get in, and h freaks out. really, calm down h, you’re gonna get in, but i’d totally be freaking out too. and a, you’re right, how big of a deal is it if you don’t get in, but still, put your back into it. it all worked out.

left at burger king were e, e2, bff and i. e2 had some friend “spinning records” at a bar down the street, so he said that he’ll hang out there for a bit and see you later. now, the rest of us had a few options. we had our names written on lists for two other parties, so we could go to one of those, or just really try to get in. we decided that we’d ask again, just because we could – quoth the bouncer, “nein”. we were about to move on… when a bunch of raging feminists came storming the square with torches. cool, we said and stopped moving. leading the way were women without shirts on and oh, femen, we said. not so cool. there was some angry shouting and i responded to the anger (inwardly) because it was nice to remember that fuck there are still a lot of things to be angry over. people gathered around to look, and a couple of the women shoved at the men and said no this is not for you, fuck off. the kinda neat part was that the police were helping them get the men away… the not so neat part was that the protesters were throwing torches in the direction of the police (i mean, i get it, but not right now?).

once that was done, the three of us were ready to move on again… but then we had a nice idea. we figured we might have been able to get into the club using the entrance next to it, in the same building. so we snuck in there and started running through the different corridors, up and down the stairs. we tried every door, every code (even googled), but nothing. two girls came out of some door (kinda weird) and tried to help us, but nothing. we even called a, and then ag, who were inside, and asked if they could sneak around and open the door from inside (they couldn’t). eventually, we felt that okay let’s do something else now. so we went to get a beer nearby… but were stopped by v, who’d come to try to get into the party as well. he asked the bouncer and the bouncer said fucking no, so we all finally left the scene. we asked if v wanted to go to the other party with us, but he said he’d hang out with some of his bros at another bar instead. he seemed pretty low in general.

e, bff and i scurried off to carmen, a bar in a basement with no phone reception. there, we chugged a beer… some of us, two (e). then we were like alright we should probably actually get to that party… so we got on the train, and rode all the way up to the other end of the red line. some jumping around and instruction navigating later, we arrived at the party… where there was a line. okay, we said and stood at the back of the line. no we didn’t, we slowly but surely managed to cut our way to the almost-front (don’t judge, use and abuse). we still had to wait a while though. so we stood in the cold, outside of a warehouse, cursing and screaming at the glass wall whenever a group of guys were let in because fuck this isn’t your day, while a bad quality version of destiny’s child blared out of someone’s phone.

eventually, we got in, and it was really warm. and really sweaty. there were small rooms, with white cubes inside, that smelled like sex and there was a silver couch with two girls on it that probably also smelled like sex. there were two dance floors and the music was so good. so we fucked around until about 3, and then we felt pretty happy with our night. so we danced to the bus, and then to the subway, and then we had to wait for the train for like 30 minutes (what else is new). we just talked while waiting, and e was saying how much she liked hanging out with us. this is where i realized that bff and i had been hanging out with this girl, that we’d never had a real conversation with before, for an entire night. they’ve all turned out to be such genuinely cool people. and i mean, just the whole thing. i’m just looking at the universe, like what? if i told high school me that see those people by the lockers over there? yeah you’re gonna hang with them, i’d be like yeah okay you’re on crack. it’s just weird. but it’s nice. i just never expected that kind of thing. i’m glad that life manages to throw me really cool surprises every now and again.

(kind of) physical things in my head.

i am listening to welcome to night vale. the twin peaks of the digital age. it’s amusing, but not in the “laughing out loud” sort of way, but in the sense that it makes my soul smile and occasionally chuckle. it’s comfort too. listening to the clear, matter-of-fact voice. a simple narrative, free from clutter and loud impressions. the one single voice that demands all my attention and lets me escape. it’s not brash, but it’s impactful. plus, the weather segment is always – kick. ass.

i’m listening to lana del rey and also goat at the same time. switching after every song. alternating between a dreamy haze and a gravelly daze.

i saw foals live two days ago. they were really good live. really good. it wasn’t until i was standing there – trying to move along to the music, but having a really hard time figuring out the patterns to some of the songs – that i realized it’s a little like math rock. which made me think about… math rock. asymmetrical time signatures, atypical rhythmical structures, counterpoints (“voices that are harmonically interdependent, but independent rhythmically and in contour”), extended chords etc. math rock is really neat.

i bought two black shirts today. well, one thin black shirt, that’s covered but a little see-through and comfortable but still clings in all the right places. the other black thing is is what you’d get if you let a cardigan and a bomber make sweet, sweet love. knitted, a little fuzzy, really soft, with a silver zipper going down the front. i’m going to wear it tomorrow. with the red lipstick. i hope he likes it. a part of me is a little over myself, asking “is this what i’ve come to?”. but the bigger part of me is more reasonable and realizes that, well, i like the attention and that’s fine. great even. it doesn’t happen very often, so why not make the most of it? he does seem to like the lipstick.

i like the phase i’m in right now, fashion wise. i don’t think i’ve ever been this comfortable and happy with my appearance at the same time. i’ve had phases where i felt really happy with the way i looked, but could barely move without having to twist or pull or tuck in anything. i’ve also had phases where i felt like i could do anything in what i was wearing without feeling uncomfortable… except look in a mirror because then i’d feel horrible. so that wasn’t good either. but i’m really good now. of course it has to do with the way i view myself, i realize that, but i think it’s more that this gained self-assuredness is helping me find the right balance between things in every aspect of my life. and plus – a lot of black. oh, how i feel at home in black.

i’m reading again. this isn’t at all surprising considering it’s fall and school has started up again and of course, that works as the most effective alarm clock to my escapelust. it has awoken from its slumber, big time. i’m working my way through spaceman, which is really interesting and intriguing but also a little headache-inducing because it starts in the middle of the story and it has fictional dialects that are a little hard to interpret – two very classical literary tools that together, as mentioned before, induce a headache. i’m hoping and thinking things will get easier as i delve deeper into it, because it really is interesting (not to mention, intriguing).

on a saturday night

so we celebrated my friend A’s birthday. and it was brilliant. R* and i shared a bottle of white wine and a bottle of kir**. it’s one of the cheapest, most heavenly alcoholic beverages i’ve ever drunk. so anyways, for a gift, we’d bought two godard films and a card that says something about drugs taking the pain away which is funny because she’s going to become a doctor and also a little morbid and who doesn’t love that, right? she seemed really happy about it. she also seemed a little shocked and a lot touched that we insisted on paying for the things for the food we were gonna make for everyone. which was nice. A’s one of those surprises i didn’t expect to get from high school, and didn’t really get until the very end and mostly after graduation, but i’m really glad i did. her, her used-to-be-but-isn’t-anymore-but-kinda-still-is boyfriend, and kind-of-but-not-surely best friend. they’re all great.

so anyways, we bought our things and went to her place. she lives in a really nice house. it’s pretty big but old, cosy, homey and not intimidating at all. so we all, including her friends that we’d never met before***, cooked a delicious meal together, and A baked bread which was a nice touch. the mood was just very organically jolly. another dear friend from high school, J, who is one of the most genuinely bubbly and free-spirited people i know, gave A some home-brewed beer as a birthday gift. it smelled like raspberries but tasted like beer and i thought that was lovely. another girl from high school, who i’d never really hung out with before, had drawn her a really good portrait. basically some great gifts.

after eating, laughing and getting buzzed, we all hung out in the kitchen for a while. V**** and R were doing a pretty pathetic***** version of the dougie when we decided to head on out. we went to this opening party for a culture centre located in a suburb****** about 20 minutes away from the city. the culture centre had just been rebuilt after some nazis right-wing extremists had burned it down so i was pretty excited to celebrate and say fuck you to the hate. we went, and arrived, and then – my mind just kind of exploded. it was this really spartan cuboid with white plastic, semi-transparent walls and neon lights flashing all over it. there were three stories and the line wasn’t even a line. the place was just spilling over with people wanting to get in. there was some heavy-bass, live, swedish hiphop shaking the walls from the inside and we were just like oh my god let’s get in there.

so we just nestled ourselves as far into the clusterfuck of people as we could and i can’t even explain how we did it but we were inside in no time. and it was just awesome. just music and pushing and smoking inside and “oh wow is this even legal?” and general grittiness all over. we managed to get right in front of the stage and just went nuts. and the concert was insane. after it was over, some djs took over and we just danced and danced and danced. i knew A was really excited to spend her birthday there because her big sister had been involved in building the first centre, so i was really into the idea of making it memorable for her. that’s how i got the brilliant idea of taking her up on stage with me. i just pulled her up, and then a couple of her friends too, and we basically danced and partied with the whole crowd at once.

during all the fuck yeah, i managed to have a moment of wow humanity when i saw a girl looking for something on the dance floor. i remember thinking “wow that must be so hard” because people were literally stomping and jumping all over the place. so i whipped out my phone and turned my flashlight app******* on. with the light shining on the muddy floor, i helped her look – and she found her thing! granted, i didn’t see what the actual thing was but she looked really grateful and gratitude is really gratifying. so we all just resumed our controlled flailing. after a while, the girl came back and just grabbed my face. i’m glad i understood what was happening because i just casually turned my head and let her give me a big smooch on the cheek. i think we all felt the love at that point.

anyways, after dancing for a couple of hours we went up the stairs where the mood was more chilled. after getting some H2O and general O2 we went back to dance some more, because you only live once********, right? so we went back, and there were these five girls dj-ing, playing all sorts of awesome girl-power music. once again, i came up with a brilliant idea. i discreetly danced away from the gang, and got one of the djs to come to me. then i showed her a text where i’d written “please play something by azealia banks, pretty please” and we just had a moment of mutual understanding where she conveyed “i got your back” and i responded with “you are the best”*********. so i went back to my crew and joyously shouted to R that i had requested azealia. she was like no way and i was a dumbass smartass and answered yes way. we danced to a couple of more songs and then surely enough – 212 started playing.

we went berserk. i was so high off the power that i just took R’s hand and dragged her up on stage with me. we owned the shit out of that song, egging the rest of the party people on while i miraculously shouted along to every word. that was a definite highlight – i truly felt like i was on top of the world. the rest of the night followed in a similar fashion and on the car ride home, i just kept thinking about how it had been one of those nights, when everything feels so carelessly magical. and A, the birthday-girl, apparently had an amazing time as well. my heart swells. it’s now that i’m writing this that i realize that i’m slowly but surely acquiring a collection of those nights, and they’re all such dear memories to me already.


*my best friend.

**it’s a deep, blood-red and tastes like blackcurrant.

***they were very nice.

****the quite-but-not-really boyfriend.

*****but oh so hilarious.

******the swedish suburbs i talk about are actually our version of the ghetto, which is actually not bad at all. just mostly working class goodness. yes i live in one, and yes i’m extremely biased – so what?

*******welcome to 2013 everybody.

********don’t kill me, i can’t fight the applicability of this saying.

*********we had very expressive eyes, okay?

friday the 13th, september 2013.

woke up. met kiki. ate pasta. listened to kiki go “hnng” in an eloquent way. had a bass mood drop. went to kulturhuset to look for atari teenage riot cds, but didn’t find any. discussed how ugly the sergel-part of t-centralen is. went to school. had a boring class about how to be a psych scientist. necessary, but still the unfun kind of meta. hung out with a girl from my group on the break. redhead with freckles and fresh out of high school. feel like a dark, slightly jaded but mostly just wise mentor. emo obi wan. saw best friend’s crush “asshole” (yes, that’s his given name okay no it’s not but might as well be) smoking outside. poser cliché. walked to the subway with new redhead friend. died on the way because of attractive boy/man(?). dark, kind of ruffled hair. glasses. a little chubby-cheeked. not that tall, but taller than me. felt an aura of “german descent” but totally just projecting a wish i did not know i had. not the conventional hottie but so my type. so attracted. which is rare. “oh bloody hell, here we go”. made eye contact twice, me-speak for “wow i want you”, but doesn’t translate the same way in normal-speak so. met kiki’s friend. really nice, remembered me and everything. met bestie. drank a latte. mood shot right back up and then some. visited dear friend at work. had french fries and a beer at the fave pub hangout. came home. chatting with kiki. thinking about dude again. struck by attraction (copyrighting that). like she, through google translate, said earlier: “weil sie wollen, dass die d”. indeed.

ci vediamo, l’estate.

(until we meet again, summer.)

summer’s officially over for me tomorrow. school begins and with it, i take a step out of the spotlight of sunbeams and spontaneity. into the shadows of academia darkness i go. i’m ready. i’m so ready. if it’s anything this summer has given me, it’s a taste of life and a hunger for more. i don’t think i’ve ever had a more eventful summer. not a day passed that didn’t feel substantial. friends and new people and partying and conversing and soaking up the sun and craziness. it was awesome. not to mention the pièce de résistance – a week in rome.

oh roma. rome was big. it meant a lot. rome meant independence and exploring and learning and enjoying and just wow. my first trip without adult supervision. my first time actually being my own adult supervision. i am pretty much all grown up and that notion feels insane. i mean, it wasn’t just living alone in a city i know next to nothing about. it was being with a friend and deciding exactly what we wanted to do. making our own mistakes and dealing with the actual consequences, and not someone just berating us while nothing “real” really happened. it was

buying the most expensive item i own with my own money,

(a rose gold watch that is pretty and perfect and mine)

being in a place where everything is so different;

(the buildings, the history, the people, the culture, the energy)

you simultaneously feel like an alien,

(fumbling, stumbling around trying to figure it all out)

more accepted than in your own country and

(because difference is actually a fathomable concept, it’s not all judgement and cold, hard truth but also religion and feeling it out)

like you’re the only human on a planet filled with creatures from countless worlds at the same time.

(i mean, tourists as a general concept)

it was seeing the wonders that humans can accomplish with enough conviction,

(the colosseum, the pantheon, the sistine chapel and the buildings monuments in general)

and realizing that logic and practicality getting flicked on the nose by passion can have beautiful results

(art, man)

most of all, it was realizing how small i really am, and how huge the world really is. and that it doesn’t mean i’m insignificant at all, but just that there is so much space for me to see, explore, affect. i’m ready to play. 


ps. i really wanted to put a relevant “if this trip had a soundtrack, it’d be this…” song on here, but when i thought about it, the only song i could think of was “fuckin’ problems” by a$ap featuring a bunch of people (namely the line “girl, i know you want this d. girl i’m kendrick lamar aka benz-is-to-me-just-a-car” by *surprise* kendrick lamar) but that’s just thanks to kiki and her incessant singing and just no.

Bring the noise when we run upon them.

Last night, I had one of the better nights in my teenage life. A huge white room, glitter, good music, feminism, old friends, friends of friends, new friends. It was just stellar.

M.I.A. is one of the most badass artists in the business (+ reppin’ women, people of color, women of color). Her music has followed me through childhood, adolescence, adulthood and all the transitions in between. So if the mood of last night had a soundtrack, it’d be this… no. 9





Virtual notes over the span of four days.

I’ve been virtually jotting down notes on my phone from this past Tuesday evening to Saturday night as a kind of experiment. The result is, I guess, what my twitter would look like sans self-censoring and character limit. Here we go.


July 2, 8:35 pm

i’ve been low for years now, why not try being high?


July 2, 8:44 pm

excess matter. substanceless, worthless. our bodies reject it, so of course the sum of our bodies would follow suit. we welcome it. lovingly call it Our Source of Life and lull it into a sense of comfort. but it is false, for as soon as we take what we want, what we need, we push it away. say no to the parts that aren’t “good enough”. move on to the next one. bye. thanks for coming.


July 2, 9:16 pm

be young. be dope. be proud. like an american.


July 2, 9:36 pm

marceline is tracking maja the sky witch, but may require princess bubblegum’s help.


July 3, 12:15 am

don’t rain on my parade.


July 4, 02:30 am

how intimate is it to have a writer read his/her own words to you


July 4, 02:36 am 

idealizing and romanticizing moments in life. greed and hunger and lust for more. always more. pop the bubble. shatter the flawless glass. pull it back down to earth. curiosity killed the cat. prying killed the perfection. such needy creatures.


July 4, 02:38 am

this is becoming a problem


July 4, 03:27 am 



July 4, 03:59 am 

the way he screams pleasure makes my insides blush. eavesdropping on the most intimate of moments, speaking into nothingness. the way forrest follows makes me want to cover my ears, because the nakedness is too much. vulnerability scares me. astonishes. moves.


July 4, 04:58 am

revolution. the eyes of the people burn. fight bullet with bullet. a dream for a dream. change is inevitable, pain is inevitable. catch 22 is added, multiplied, exponentialized. numbers raised. death count. the people rise, the homes fall. security gone, safety forgotten. is that the price of freedom? of the future? fight power with power. a sacrifice for a sacrifice. buildings burn, pieces turn and everything is in ruins. but the game continues, and the pawns walk on, dragging themselves through the ashes. because the game plays itself,  the game never ends and every. single. one. loses.


July 4, 05:00 am

black clothes, black souls,  black dreams, black holes.


July 4, 12:50 pm 

fragments of nebulae wrapped around my wrist. cracked and suspended into triangles, aligning themselves. geometry, logic, science positions them the way they are supposed to be positioned. a warped version of fate. up, down, up, down they lay. making two dimensions become three. sometimes you have to be _where_ you’re supposed to be to see _what_ you’re supposed to be. to see an image become reality. event horizons and holograms. theories evolve into theories.


July 5, 03:36 am

kipling wrote that yours is The Earth and everything in it if you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same. if you can a million other things that all mean the same thing. balance. but Levelheadedness can be exercised to the point of noheadedness. understanding can become neutrality and eventually transparency. it’s important to know where your head is at just to exist, let alone have the Earth and everything in it.


July 5, 03:58 am

the nerves in my body are extremely sensitive. like, impractically so. that will be interesting in the future…


July 5, 04:04 am

fate is in the little things. like when you’ve been going through almost a year’s worth of tweets from the same person and accidentally leave the feed and it’s exactly 4 am and you need to sleep anyways. that’s fate telling you to stop already.


July 5, 04:08 am 

the obsession with hair is a black woman’s burden.


July 5, 6:09 pm

to the disgusting men who feel like you can own me with your eyes when really i wouldn’t even touch you for a mill, this is my gift to you:







(Imagine them hitting your eyes, your dicks and your hands (just in case))


July 6, 01:56 am 

with glitter spread across my cheekbones, twinkling across my eyelids – stardust covers me. i’m feeling light, light, light on the dancefloor and love surrounds me. bliss.


July 6, 06:44 pm 

rushing with scolding hot coffee and “RIOT” on your chest,  charge charge charge.


July 6, 06:45 pm 

how do you let your friend know you’re there when you hadn’t really realized that you’ve had to be


July 6, 07:38 pm 

there comes a moment when you feel your eyes burning with tears because of the realization that you have some really good people in your life.


July 6, 09:01 pm

slow-motion shots of female athletes running. intense.


July 6, 10:38 pm



July 7, 12:10 am 

when i’m intoxicated, i tend to ‘cling’ more than ‘hug’. also, i’m a little obsessed with ‘hugs’.


July 7, 12:11 am

not just boys, but boyz.


Get outta my mind boy, you know I think about you all the time.

So the latter half of today was pretty kickass, and I figure I should write about it since kickass latter halves of the day don’t happen very often.

The kickassness commenced when my friend and I entered the bar/club/venue in which we were going to experience the awesomeness of a certain lo-fi band called Bleached. Here we set the tone for the rest of the evening by gathering the mentality that you should always use in life – be spontaneous. And I did it in my brand new lipstick with the ostentatiously fabulous name Prune Fantastique (it’s Dior, what do you expect?), lips feeling creamy and dark and amazing. So we sat outside under a swoopily clouded sky, breathing a windless and understatedly perfect air, taking sips of our very first glasses of rosé wine (ever) and just all around loving life. While we were doing that, we were discussing deep matters of the universe (chattin’ boys), showing each other examples of fine creations in the world (scopin’ out some boys) and sharing our woes due to a lack of close encounters with said creations (why no boys?).

Once we were done with that, we went inside, bought a couple of beers, listened to the opening act and just got generally jazzed for the main concert. And then there they were – the two girls of Bleached (+ bonus bass player who I thought was in the band… Oops), decked out in the standard lo-fi girl band uniform of all black, complete with dainty-heeled ankle boots. And also one of said creations discussed behind the drumset (omg one of the hot boys scoped was the borrowed drummer!). So we swung, we dug, we “wooo”-ed for about an hour and a half, and then Bleached was done rocking… Merch time! I am such a merch whore so I pretty much cleared the house. Okay not really but I bought a CD, a t-shirt and a poster (which my mother accidentally soaked in water about 20 minutes ago but oh well it cost me less than a candy bar) and lo and behold – there’s the band just hanging out! So I went up to them and asked them to sign my CD. They were super chill and humble and American and awesome, but what’d you expect? One of the chicks thought I was American, and doesn’t that inflate my ego? Then she asked how old I am, “19” I grumbled and shattered the illusion of my worldly ways. Anyways, they were really nice and even brought out the bonus bass player from (the infamous) “backstage” (which didn’t look like all that from what I could see) for me. It was all in all so nice.

But, we were finished earlier than we thought, so we decided to ride that luscious spontaneity-wave and walk to our favorite dingy-but-charming-because-cheep-beer bar. So we buy our beers and go to sit down – only to meet our old classmate A! A doesn’t live in our city anymore so it was really funny that we just happened to run into her so late on a Tuesday, but it was really nice. She was there with her friend G (who studies in Prague and whose house I’ve been to for some reason) and her other friend S (who I learned was super-sassy-pissed over the fact that Beyonce cancelled her show in Belgium, which she had flown to see). So we were just having a jolly good time conversating, and in walks my other old classmate T with his friends! It was so weird, I mean, a Tuesday. Anyways, it had been a while since I’d seen him so it was really nice. He always gives the best hugs. So we chatted for a bit, and then it was time to leave.

Which leads us to the third and final moment of my eventful evening. My friend R and I are feeling a bit buzzed off the wine and the beer that we’ve had, and are yapping away on the train. R is telling me about this 52 year old dude who’s pretty much spamming her shout box on and liking everything she posts on tumblr, and I’m like “uh you need to block that shit before it turns stalker” and this 23+ year old hipster sitting next to us bursts out giggling. So we’re all just laughing and he’s like “I’m sorry, it’s just a little funny.” And we’re like “dude, no worries, it’s totally hilarious.” And then R and I keep talking and laughing about other things and hipster dude just can’t keep it together. So eventually he just takes of his earbuds and goes “I’m sorry I feel like I’m eavesdropping.” And we’re just loving him. So here we are, giggling our train ride away, just having a swell time. We ended up getting separated after the train gave up on us, but he waved when he was getting off and I may or may not have over-enthusiastically shouted goodbye to him. But it was all in good fun.

So that was my wonderfully spontaneous Tuesday evening. I am working all day today, and I just know I’m going to feel less than amazing but it’ll be totally worth it.

If tonight was a color, it’d be a light turquoise. If tonight was a taste, it’d be a crackling sweetness, with just a hint of the good kind of tangy. And if tonight was a sound, it’d be a tinkling laughter in the wind.

And if tonight had a soundtrack, it would obviously be this… no. 4

Need some time to get out of my mind
Baby I keep losing my cool
Slip and dream of what we once had
Because you know I’m just a fool

My dreams keep giving me hope
And I don’t think I can let go
My dreams keep giving me hope
And I don’t think I can let go
Don’t think that I can let go
Don’t think that I can let go

Get outta my mind boy
You know I think about you all the time
Get outta my mind boy
You know I try, try all the time 


Update: So I’m posting this the day after it was written. And earlier, I was at work, feeling less than amazing… But it totally was worth it.

The funk, the exhilaration and the sorrow.

I get in this mood sometimes. A period of time that comes along once every couple of months or so. It just hits out of nowhere, this heaviness. A “funk”, I call it. It’s really just loneliness. A feeling that always resides within me, but manages to take the backseat for other, more important emotions. More vivid ones. But every once in a while, it comes up for air… takes over really. It’s a little bit funny, how loneliness feels. In life, whenever something happens and I’m reminded that the only thing I’m sure I have is myself, it leaves me feeling chilly inside. But the funk – it’s warm. No, it’s burning hot and heavy and slow-flowing. Like lava. I’ve always just waited it out, let it come and go, like it always does. Today though, I managed to take a break from it. Well, take it into my own hands and manipulate it.

I fought fire with fire. One weakness with another. Today, I used my unhealthily strong need to please others, and went on with my day. Despite my funk. I saw a movie. Fast and Furious 6. And I don’t know if it helped, or made the funk worse, but at least it was a change. Change is good. A movie like Fast 6 is interesting, because either you get it, or you don’t. But if you do, it gives you such a rush. Yes, it’s ridiculous. But, it’s incredibly exhilarating. If you’re into it, it gives you the biggest kick. Honestly, it’s like a drug. From a heterosexual female’s perspective, the figurative testosterone flowing in the theatre isn’t half bad, but the adrenaline flowing through your veins is amazing. It really is. Such a high.

This, I was expecting. And I thought I knew what I was getting myself into. I did not, however, expect myself to wipe away a tear at the end of the movie. To trivialize things – my OTP is no more. Gisele dies to save Han, and we know from the third film that Han will eventually die. This all made sense to me, even before the movie, but I’d repressed it. I’d clung to the hope that the third film was actually set either in the very distant future or a parallel universe*, but seeing it happen was actually devastating. I loved them together. I loved them separately.** I was, I am heartbroken. And I realized I’d fallen into the trap. The “saying goodbye” trap. I hate saying goodbye. I’m excellent at letting things go, moving on once something is gone, but every time I have to say goodbye to something – a part of me dies. So all my emotions did this time was veer off the loneliness onto other side-lanes – from excitement, to sorrow. And now I’m back on the main road. I’m blue again. But with me, I have traces of that excitement and sorrow left. It’s fiction, but the feelings are reality.

*insert keysmash here*

Me too Han, me too.***

This post is all over the place, I know. But it works. Let’s just call it stream-of-consciousness or something.


* Don’t judge me, with the way that film was executed, that would have made sense.

** Plus the fact that Han**** is weirdly hot, and the only male character I found attractive on a personal level despite the plethora of male characters. I can also take this moment to state that yes, The Fast and The Furious franchise is sexist, but not as sexist as you’d think. It does have a mainly male cast, but the female characters portrayed are fully three-dimensional… and happen to be badasses. However, a big boo to the montage of girls dancing in skimpy outfits for a full minute – add a minute of shirtless hot guys doing the same thing or no dice.

*** Also, this was the moment when Han/Gisele started and I can’t deal with that because it was all so perfect. Why must all good things come to an end?

**** I don’t think you can give your asterisk an asterisk but this is my kingdom so I can do whatever I want. I just googled Han and Wiki tells me that the full name of the character is Han Seoul-Oh. The asian version of Han Solo. Be still, my beating heart.

Send me your flowers of your december. Send me your dreams of your candy wine.

Before I let you down again
I just want to see you in your eyes
I would have taken everything out on you
If only thought you could understand

So I’m sitting on my oh-so messy bed, in my oh-so dark room, listening to some oh-so beautiful shoegazing* from a USB stick that my friend gave me. I’m feeling melancholic and peaceful and disheartened and content all at the same time.

If this moment was a color, it would be a milky lavender. If this moment was a texture, it’d be a thin veil of grey with threads of glitter running through it, making it look like a troubled sky with the twinkling hope of stars trying to break through. And if this moment was a sound, it would be the sound of a soft sigh, heavy from the weight of the emotions being carried within.
If this moment had a soundtrack, it would be this… no. 2

They say every man goes blind in his heart
And they say everybody steals somebody’s heart away
And I’ve got nothing more to say about it
Nothing more than you would me

Send me your flowers of your december
Send me your dreams of your candy wine
I got just one thing I can’t give you
Just one more thing of mine


*Shoegazing has to be my favorite name for a genre.