mmm… pppp… skgruäh..jäh.. kkkk…kkkkkkkk…krrrrr…k.. h..h… tt t tt  t tt tt tt rr ttrttrtrttrttkttkrtkrtkkrt äääälllgghhääh.. jj..jjjjjjjjj iii. jiääg..ääägäiäääjää.. ä

Who needs poetry anyway…

I can’t sing. That’s really annoying when you try to write music. I can’t write music either, and that’s sort of annoying too. I can play. But I seldom can play well enough to manage the pieces I can’t write. When I think of it, that irritates me as well.

Thomas Dybdahl can sing.. and play. In a very John McGregor kind of way. I take no shame in my monotonous taste in music. At least I know what I like. But let’s not listen to him yet.. let’s shake some ear lobes to his band’s music instead. The National Bank.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9hDMVgMn-M0

I know good graphic design nowadays. I can’t do good graphics yet, and that’s frustrating. I try and I try and I try, and once in a while I do end up with something I like, but that can be two days spent on one good spread.
One Good Spread.

Where can I find the patience to learn the things I want to know? And what’s up with this thing called motivation? I have it, I lose it, I find it, it leaves me, I chase it, I catch it, it escapes. Frick.

I’m high on sugar. Makes me skippy, but not in a jolly way.

Ok, ok.. self-suggestion. It’s January.. the first month of the year. *taking off the headphones* There is a lot of January left, which is good, I have time to do all the stuff on my list. *sitting up straight* As no friends are available I can plan my life without interruptions. *putting up my hair* Trying to make a positive thing out of it here, take no offence. Right now I want to put my music on the computer, but neither of my three various microphones will pick up the sound well enough, and I can’t stand my voice, so… aargh.. no. Either I just take that project off the list, or I over-do it and make it sort of art..sy.. *crossing my legs*

But.. my back hurts and my hand is freezing dead and my teeth are clenched and my feet..

No. Focus. You can bring down a better chair, and put more socks on, and take a chewing gum. Do it now. DO IT.

Fine, fine.. *be right back*

She’s a bit bossy this one.. Do appreciate this chair though. Ok, so I’m not dead, and there’s food in the fridge. That’s a start. I’ve done graphic design ten hours a day this week and I still love it. That’s a start too. My room is a bit messy.. that’s good.. I can still move around, but there’s stuff to organize when I flip out. We have snow, makes the day brighter. Good. I have a lot of music I haven’t listened too yet, something to look forward to. And I can take a bath.. play some frets on fire.. make myself a salad.. play the guitar.. write stupid lyrics and good music.. practice the violin, only if I like..

I’m sorry. I know a blog is supposed to tell you about the interesting everyday events.. I’m supposed to see something lying in the snow, get a philosophical idea and tell you about it, in a funny way. This is it though.. my everyday right now. I’m used to complaining about everyday details to everyday listeners. As I’ve placed myself between 500 and 1500 km from anyone who will listen, though.. It gets stuck in the air. Halfway to nowhere. In here, out there.. I need to tell someone out loud that my back is hurting and my feet are unusually cold (sleep with two blankets and woolen socks, but still..), and then I can leave it. Or it can leave me.

Give me some credit though. I’m spending every hour of every day at home. With my parents. Not one friend is in the area. Well one, but I can’t follow him like a wet puppy, can I? If I drive for an hour I will find a couple of friends. If I drive for five I will find a couple more. I’m spending all of the day in front of the computer, working, save the odd break when I go eat or out for a run. I use my voice when I say hi to my parents, when I talk to my cat, or when I sing Missy Higgins’ “Going North” for the 158^th time. Now you tell me this would not drive you crazy? I thought so..

I’d like to move to Helsinki. But I can’t decide if I should look for any job or for THE job. I don’t know how to look for jobs actually, never done it. Never done a proper interview. I love being naïve and unexperienced though, there’s so much to see still.. Makes me feel as young as I am, for once.

See.. I actually did it. Self-suggested myself out of misery and the occasional solitary freek-out. In your face, stupid head.. so to speak. Or write, rather.. 
 
I’d like to name something Bob.