Bursdagsfest for Thea, Karina og Marte

For to uker siden var jeg og Ingo i bursdagsfesten til Thea, Karina og Marte. Der var det juksetattoveringer til alle som måtte ønske det, dans og god stemning. Jeg og Ingo ble like godt halve natten, og tok siste nattbuss hjem. På bussholdeplassen ønsket en gammel og relativt sliten type å kjøpe strømpebuksa mi av meg, og når jeg takket nei mente han at jeg var "jævla fin på're". Og nattbussen hjem er jo en opplevelse i seg selv. "Ja...hva syns dere om den derre Sigrid saken'a? ... Nå ble det stille fra trekløveret". Vi avsluttet kvelden med å oppdage en kjempesnegle... som viste seg å være en flis. Anyways, good times:

 

I have brittle bones it seems, I bite my tongue and torch my dreams

Høsten har kommet, og jeg er like lite forberedt som alltid. Jeg er stort sett kjent som en realist/pessimist, men hvert jævla år har jeg like store forhåpninger til sommeren. Og hvert år blir jeg like skuffet. Planene mine var noe sånt som dette: Utallige grillkvelder i frognerparken, lange dager på stranda, fester og byturer stort sett hver helg, massevis av tid med venner ute i sola og superduper vær. Realiteten ble i stedet slik: Jeg har badet en gang (i Norge), og vært på stranda to ganger. Jeg har vært på tre ordentlige fester. Jeg har ikke vært på byen i det hele tatt. Jeg har stort sett ikke vært veldig sosial utenom helgene, og været har vært grusomt. Huhei. Selvfølgelig har jeg gjort masse hyggelige ting også. Jeg har grillet hos Trym, jeg har vært på ferie i Hellas, jeg har vært på Roskilde, jeg har gått på turer og forsøkt å være mest mulig ute/på verandaen de dagene det faktisk har vært sol. Men nå er sommeren definitivt over, og i dag var det 2 grader ute i det jeg stod opp. Da var det vel på tide å finne vinterjakka da. KJEMPEMESSIG! (Ja, jeg brukte nettopp en DJ Broiler referanse). Jeg er ikke akkurat little miss sunshine for tiden, jeg vet, men, gah. Verden ass. Verden. Kronisk underskudd på søvn, kronisk stress på jobben og nå skal jeg pakke for å reise på et familiarrangement jeg er ekstremt lite motivert for. Woop Woop. Det er lyden av politi.

 (Bilder av Nishe)

Imaginær shoppingtur

I am done with my graceless heart, so tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart

“Maybe it’s more like you said before, all of us being cracked open, like, each of us starts out as a watertight vessel, and these things happen, these people leave us, or don’t love us, or don’t get us, or we don’t get them, and we lose and fail and hurt one another. And the vessel starts to crack open in places, and I mean, yeah, once the vessel cracks open, the end becomes inevitable, once it starts to rain inside the Osprey, it will never be remodeled, but there is all this time between when the cracks start to open up and when we finally fall apart, and it’s only in that time that we can see one another, because we see out of ourselves through our cracks, and into others through theirs. When did we see each other face to face? Not until you saw into my cracks, and I saw into yours. Before that, we were just looking at ideas of each other, like looking at your window shade, but never seeing inside. But once the vessel cracks, the light can get in. The light can get out.” 

“She loved mysteries so much that she became one.” 

"When you say nasty things about people, you should never say the true ones, because you can't really fully and honestly take those back, you know?" 

“What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.”

"And so I could not imagine her as a person who could feel fear, who could feel isolated in a roomful of people, who could be shy about her record collection because it was too personal to share. Someone who might have read travel books to escape having to live in the town that so many people escape to. Someone who — because no one thought she was a person — had no one to really talk to.” 

“For the longest time, it felt kind of like my chest was cracking open" 

"Every moment of your life is lived for the future—you go to high school so you can go to college so you can get a good job so you can get a nice house so you can afford to send your kids to college so they can get a good job so they can get a nice house so they can afford to send their kids to college."

"I know what she's talking about. The something deeper and more secret. It's like cracks inside of you. Like there are these fault lines where things don't meet up right.”

“This is what happens: somebody—girl usually—got a free spirit, doesn't get on too good with her parents. These kids, they're like tied-down helium balloons. They strain against the string and strain against it, and then something happens, and that string gets cut, and they just float away. And maybe you never see the balloon again . . . Or maybe three or four years from now, or three or four days from now, the prevailing winds take the balloon back home . . . But listen, kid, that string gets cut all the time.”

“There are so many people. It is easy to forget how full the world is of people, full to bursting, and each of them imaginable and consistently misimagined.” 

“It's so hard for anyone to show us how we look, and so hard for us to show anyone how we feel.”

Jeg har lest Paper Towns (igjen). Det burde du gjøre også.

(Credit: Devined)