Maybe you should have worked on being the perfect man for me, asshole? Have you ever thought like that instead of chasing this unrealistic, pathetic dream of how your ideal woman should be?
So you think you have to work on yourself until you achieve the final state of “good man” and then your price will be the girl of your dreams, standing in line in a grocery shop with coconut oil and mango in her hands? No, you stupid fool. You met the perfect woman already and she was right at your door. The most unbelievable great, smart, beautiful woman you could ever meet in this fucked up western world with fucked up western needs. You were so unbelievably lucky that you met her while you still were the most imperfect, ungrateful man you can be. You are just that lucky, mate. And even though this perfect woman deserves better than you, you should have fought for her. This fight would have made you perfect, would have made you complete. But instead you chose the easy way out again. You chose your uncertainty, which in the end will do noting for you than bring you down.
You chose to be incomplete and alone. Now: go fuck yourself with everyone else.
I’m full of shit. This blog is full of shit. You are full of shit. We all are full of shit. Your mother shits shit. My picture looks like shit, and yes – there’s shit on my face.
What a ride I’ve had with the boys the last couple of months. Of course a “ride” in an almost non-sexual way. I’ve met crazy guys, who punched me while they were sleeping, and guys who were too limited emotionally. Guys, who just wanted to fuck and guys who just were too gay for my heterosexual taste. Who would have thought that one random day, sitting in and having no desire for making plans at all, I would meet the guy who really mattered. A guy, who just needed some love and caring to see his own potential and ours - even though he, at times, also turned out to be a sick bastard. I get the freaks every time I think of what would have happened if we just gave up and settled with being “just friends”. Though, we did that once and fortunately it didn’t last too long. Thank God for wine.
So there I have it. My problem with boys was mostly my own fault. I’ve pushed everyone away the last 2 years and finally I fought for someone.. and myself. I was vulnerable, I was fragile.. and I was scared. I lost all sense of control for the first time in years and let this one great guy take care of me. I did it. I fucking did it. My loser ex-boyfriend can go fuck himself now because from this day on he’s not a factor in my lonesomeness anymore. His adultery has nothing on me anymore. I’m free again, and one step closer to finding peace with myself.
Thank you, C. Thank you for seeing me for what I am and for ending a fucking lousy chapter in my life.
Me and my best girlfriend wooho’ing at Copenhagen Gay Pride
You could easily call me an emotional mess today. For the first time in a very long time I cried. So much. I couldn’t stop. I liked it. I was sad, but I liked being sad. I really loved being emotional. Feeling again. Existing.
And now I’m back in my hometown. Back being mom and dad’s little girl, back to a place I was before I felt my entire existence dissolving right before my eyes. Now I can make a change. Start from a clean slate, living the life I should have been living in 2 years. I’m going to study medicine and right beside me is this very fucking great man, whom I owe everything to right now. He could even have my left ovary if he turned out to be gay and wanted me as a surrogate mother 10 years later. That’s how much I love this fucking great man.
He still lives in Copenhagen. To feel less like a shit for moving “away from him” I’ve turned bad conscience into anger… because he – by accident – deleted some (probably great) drunk pictures of us. It truly makes me mad… and fucking sad. I don’t understand why, but I tend to impose so much into this random action. In my head I don’t feel important enough when shit like that happens. I blame my ovary and my sex for this. It’s not always easy to be a woman if you don’t have enough chocolate.
Pot heaven vol. 2
I had enough of smelling the pot from my neighbor in my dorm room. Every single fucking time I come home, there it is. The pot. The pot totally raping my sense of smell. Pot pot pot. Everywhere. When I’m sleeping, when I’m eating… shitting….. there it is, inviting itself to a onesome-fiesta in my room.
Scumbag of a neighbor I have, not tried once to offer me some of their good fucking pot just for the kindness. Just to say “hey I’m sorry that every single shitty item in your room smells like shit, and I’m sorry if you’re going to have some problems with your dad, when he is picking you up on saturday to move your things back to your hometown. I’m greatly sorry. Godspeed mate”.
A lonesome night….. staying in…. in my pathetic little dorm room. It smells like pot in here and I really don’t know why, but I certainly do love my new dorm room-smell. More of that please.
Enough of talking about my dorm room-odor. I feel like shit today. Like someone ate me, crapped me out and then took a great, smelly, over-the-top shit on me. I don’t know exactly why, but I really feel shitty in that way.
I had some great days this week. Actually I had some fucking swell days with the guy from my idea of heaven. Long story short we talked through the entire chaotic mess, got utterly shit faced and decided to see each other again. Thanks to enormous amount of wine for bringing us together.
So back to business: I’m angry, hurt, sad, depressed…. I feel a lot of emotions right now. I’m mad at the guy from my idea heaven. I’m mad at him, because he’s there and yet so far away. I’m mad at him because he didn’t try – even a bit – to cheer me up, and even though I said I needed to be alone I really just needed him to show me that he cares. I know, women are crazy. We demand of you to read our minds, but guys… come on, it isn’t THAT difficult, especially when all the hard work is done and the only thing you have to do is to show some affection. Maybe buy some chocolate or some doob. That would do perfectly.
In spite of everything, I’m not only mad at him, but also at my friends. Copenhagen. My family. I’m just utterly mad at everyone. I don’t want to move back, but then again… I really need to. And I don’t want love and affection, but I really need it. Maybe that’s the problem with me today, I don’t want anything but I need everything. Yeah, that’s probably the deal.. and maybe some pre-PMS.
So it just hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m probably the most pussied out little girl now than I’ve ever been before. Yes, I do have some standards and principles, which I think everybody should have, but I didn’t realize how scared I actually am of getting fucked up, psycho hurt again and therefore pushing everybody away from me, including my friends and family and only depending on myself. In all this time I’ve used my standards and principles as the main reason to push people away…. not always though – mostly when they made me feel again.
It started about 3 years ago, when I met the love of my life. You know, when you just feel that this person is the one you want to have little babies with. He’s the one who really completes you, makes you feel rock solid and strong and more free than ever. Feeling free to do anything you ever thought of doing. Things you never thought you were able to do. This feeling was mutual.
To make it short it all ended because the bastard cheated on me while he was on exchange in Asia. And he didn’t even cheat on me with a beautiful asian girl (if you have to cheat in a another country why not try something new and local, right?), but instead he had an affair with a boring, typical Scandinavian girl. Discovering this infidelity changed me for life.
So…. I’ve been through lots of crazy shit, but this just changed me more than anything else in my life and without knowing, I just stopped feeling. From that day I lost my entire identity and didn’t have any desire of getting it back.
Now 3 years later I’m trying so hard to feel again. To give myself the chance to feel. Just feel. It doesn’t matter if I feel sad or happy, but that I just fucking feel goddammit. And it’s okay if someone else makes me feel. It’s okay to rely on other people to help me on my path to “myself” again – whatever that is. For 2 years I was convinced that I had to find my passion – my motivation to live – through myself, but that’s just a load of crap. I’ve achieved a lot on my own by now and I think I’m capable to achieve anything I want, but for what use is it for if it’s only for me? I can’t only use me for a shit. I don’t inspire me, I get inspired and motivated by others. Things around me, people around me. That’s just how it is and it’s pathetic to think that you can fully yourself… by yourself only.
And for the record: I know this post is raped deeply by the use of “feel” – but that was actually the purpose of it. Just so you know why I annoyed the fuck out of you by repeating myself.
Cumming soon to a mouth near you……
So yesterday I talked insanely about my dating life. People would think of me as a non-sexual slut if they knew the numbers of guys I’ve been seeing in a short amount of time. I don’t even put myself in that situation where I think “tonight I’m gonna pick up a guy” – I’m just one of “the lucky ones” who just randomly finds herself dating some guy she met some random place in a pretty random time. Suddenly there’s just a guy and I don’t even know where he came from, but certainly not heaven or paradise.
Until I met one person, who tasted a bit like heaven. Or my idea of heaven. To be clear he was just great. I was randomly seeing two great guys, finding myself living through my favorite new order song “bizarre love triangle”. It was pathetic. So deeply pathetic to be caught in that situation, and I hope it never happens again. In a perfect world you just want to blend these two guys into a perfect blueberry smoothie and sip on it all day long, everyday in your life – but unfortunately that wasn’t possible. I would probably get arrested.
Back to the guy from my idea of heaven: I knew him from the start. You know. That’s the most powerful emotion you can experience in this shitty thing called life. It seemed so clear what to do, and yet I couldn’t give myself in. I fooled myself to believe I was in love, when probably I just was ovulating. When that happens every month I feel myself falling in love with everything: mangos, dresses, girls, rocks on the road – I can’t handle it.
So… the guy from heaven and I ended it. It randomly happened like everything else in my life. I thought I knew him, and a part of me still think I do, but the last time I saw him he was a completely stranger to me. Maybe because he limits himself or maybe because I finally got my period and saw things clearer than before. Who knows? Right now I just know than I’m moving back to my hometown to start some new drama on my new studies. How many boyfriends do you think I’m going to have? 2, 3 or 5? Let’s see – I’ll keep you posted.
4xme – what’s not great about that?
I haven’t felt like blogging in a long time – not because I didn’t have a lot of shit to say and a lot of shit to give, but mostly because I had a life. It didn’t last too long.
I’ve been dating… a lot. And still I’m not good at it. It bores me. Maybe because I’m too demanding or maybe I just meet lots of boring boys. I can’t figure it out anymore, but they mostly just repulse me. I don’t think it’s their fault, but more the direction this community is turning. Nobody wants to put any effort in anything but themselves. Seriously. I’m about 2 boys from throwing up over this thing called “individuality”, always thinking of me me me me and yeah… me. And “personal development” is oh so important, and don’t misunderstand me, it is, but come on… You can’t use “personal development” for a squat. Trust me on that. If you think you will be a better person alone, you are delusional. Personal development is only a shitty concept developed by some capitalist assholes who are using this shitty, individual mindset for their own goddamn benefit. If you are so fucking holy and see yourself has a sucker for Buddha, you should just lock yourself in a rotten shed and eat fucking rice until you die.. pretty much. But if you still think you get “closer to yourself” by sticking your meat in everything that walks – be my guest and we will invite some hollowness and chlamydia to dinner: do you eat meat?
But enough of that – you can’t blame people. Today you can customize everything in your life, you can even get a burger without pickles (even though I really don’t understand people who un-choose that). So why even bother to fight for love, when you can customize that as well? Just be aware that you – in the end – just will date a robot, whom you have built. Or something. What the fuck do I know anymore…
So for something completely different. I’m going to study Medicine, and actually I got two spots. One on University of Copenhagen and one on University of Southern Denmark. What are the odds?! I feel so goddamn lucky. Finally I feel like I got the recognition I’ve been working so hard on. In secondary school my great great math teacher (feel the irony here) said that I sucked at math and would probably have a difficult time passing and getting the grade that was necessary in high school to study Medicine. And guess what stupid math teacher? I was fucking great in high school, so fucking great that two – TWO!!! – universities want me. So stick that in your pipe and smoke it, mother fuckeeeeeeeeeer.