Photo Booth fail or Photo Booth good-surprise?
So apparently Apple have made something new for the market. Oh my fucking god a brand new iPad mini, you say?! “That is just to cum over” are you probably thinking. But I’m not so impressed.
Let me first tell you I’m a proud owner of a destroyed iPhone 3GS and a new MacBook Air. Two products you seriously could cum over. I could and I have, to be frank. I take all of my previous bad words back about Apple – cause they really know their shit.
But one thing that really pisses me off – pisses me off to the moon – is how stupid we are and how Apple is abusing this for their advantage. Think about it: who needs a fucking iPad MINI when there are iPhones, MacBooks and iPads on the market? Do you really – and I mean REALLY – need an iPad MINI?!?! Its fucking bigger than a brand new iPhone 5 and yet smaller than an iPad and maybe weighs 100 grams less or more, but other than that it is a completely useless product for me. I feel so fooled and so pathetic, flashing my Apple products in school when they actually just raped the world from behind by making their old ideas smaller and therefore fooling the entire world – so much, that people wait 15 hours in the fucking cold to get one while the people behind Apple sit in their 10.000 dollars offices, sipping on their fat-free-soya-macchiato and laughing at us for being so easy and stupid.
The new iPad mini ISN’T a revolutionary fucking thing. It’s just a smaller iPad, and isn’t the new iPad great enough as it is? Seriously dude.
Now I will take a shower and wash all the nastyness of me.
early morning zombie, being bathroom-narcissistic in my university
So one thing I wasn’t prepared for when I started to study medicine, was all the goddamn parties. If my liver could talk, it would ask me to go fuck myself pretty heavily. Sorry liver, it wasn’t my intention to mess you up like a used-up hooker.
With that said, this past time have been so crazy, that my brain cells are suffering from permanent damages. I had millions, now I have none. It’s scary, huh? One day, hopefully, I’m a doctor and you will be my patient. If you knew how fucked medicine students are, you would just handle your operation on the kitchen table instead. I really don’t get how you can stay sane studying this extremely difficult education with extremely intakes of alcohol every week. Let’s see if I become a doctor before my body shuts down on me.
Another thing I wasn’t prepared for either was how insanely stupid I actually am. Like really godawful-braindead-american-cheerleader-movie stupid. I don’t and haven’t understood a shit of what I have been reading the past 2 months, and it seems to get worse. Everybody keeps telling me it will come, like a sun on a cloudy sky (or something) one ugly-turns-beautiful day. I keep telling them there are more full of shit than I am, but still they somehow believe in me or quite frankly just feel sorry for me. I haven’t quite figured that out yet.
But they say hard work pays off. If studying from 7 in the morning to 7 in the evening isn’t hard work, I will become a prostitute. Easy and fast earning money as well. Win-win.
Maybe I should stop rambling and go to bed. I’m looking 10 years older, my tits are hanging on my shoes, my skin is going through puberty again, my ass is softer than two pillows and I’m getting fat. And even though that are some shitty things studying medicine does to my body – ALREADY – I’m still in love with every single, fat-adding-to-my-body-and-ass day.
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.
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……
…..that’s pretty much how my week have been so far, and last week. All this exams nonsense is going on my nerves. I just wanna write and travel, go for long walks, see so many documentaries, wank to Hank Moody, play with my rabbit Charlie Knox-Drake, read Bukowski and buy dresses, but I can’t. The whole week the conversations I have had with myself has sounded like this: “When I’m done watching porn, I will start writing on my assignment”, and then replace porn with food, movies, more food, parties and sleeping.
Geez, will it ever stop? I guess we have to wait and see. But now I’ll eat some more and then I will look at my exam.
I don’t believe in life, I believe in you. I don’t believe in emotions, I believe in alcohol. I don’t believe in myself, I believe in makeup. I don’t believe in the future, but I believe in the end.
And a fucking good morning, folks! The sun is shining and yet it still feels like it’s nighttime.
I got pretty shit-faced last night; oh the horror and moral hangovers. I can’t stand them. Maybe I should just leave my phone home the next time and risk getting lost. Seems like a safer bet for everyone.