Long Time no Blogg

Jesus. it's been ages... do i even know how to blogg anymore..? what the hell is that anyway? i just glanced through my last 20 inputs.. god, i had loads of time on my hands.. lucky me!

i wonder if the theory of muscular memory (ask if you don't know) can be transposed to the blogging universe? i seem to be doing okay i guess, babbling on about nothing in general. paradoxically, not much has happened this year, but SO much has.

not too much music.. except that beautiful day was used in a commercial, enabling me to travel to South America for two months. and finished recording a new song, Breathe. and an acapella song for James.

i'll be 10,000 days old in three weeks. dunno what to think. awesome in a way, scary in another. a freight train with constantly changing destinations that hasn't had a pit stop all year. will be nice to finally step off for a while. reflect. disect. maybe then blogging won't come so unnaturally.

Emotional Understanding

Recently I got into an argument with a friend about my opinion of the Swedish people. Well, it’s not really a national issue – so it’s wrong to put it in that context – but more a cultural observation, since I’ve traveled so much and get to compare different regions of the world.

The basis of my statement was this: Swedes are a very physically open people (both sexually and otherwise, showering together from a very young age, saunaing etc) but emotionally very closed. When a Swedish person responds with a not so emotional statement (in this case “your food was mediocre, but for you that’s great”, when I know that person loved the food and actually wanted to say “wow, what a great dish, thanks so very much”) I don’t get upset since I have come to terms with the emotional coldness of Swedes. My friend was very upset since this seemed to be a racist statement. Alternatively a very generalized statement.

In any case, I stick to my argument, but mean nothing ill with it. I love Swedes. I love their dual behavior, of first being reserved and later being very open (breaking that wall is either done by various social techniques or, in most cases, alcohol). I love their polite impoliteness, or impolite politeness. I love their reservations. I love their emotional retardation. And fine, I am generalizing, but no more than I would the French’s arrogance, the Spanish laid back attitude, or the English dry humour.

For me, it’s not about categorizing (which I know it sounds like) but an emotional and cultural understanding of why this is so. Climate. History. Family values. Media. It all comes into play when defining a whole nation. It interests me. I want to find out why. Is it the cold? Colder climates call for less words, less communication calls perhaps for less emotional relay. I don’t know. To say that there are NO similarities is something I’d love to do – being a person that believes that all people are born the same – but so far there are more things pointing towards it than against it.

That said, I’ve met some warm Swedes, cold Spaniards, and humble French. I do not judge, and don’t really care what a person is emotionally. I never generalize to the point of defining a person by their nationality. It doesn’t bother me. But it helps me from getting offended when I look into someone’s eyes and tell them I love them, and they reply with a pat on the shoulder. It helps when I’ve slaved in the kitchen cooking a meal, where everyone seems to enjoy it, and one guy says “hey, it’s not cat piss”.

International Day of Love

I always get confounded by these days. Someone telling me what to do. “go buy gifts, tell your family you love them, visit a grave, dance around a tree, put holes in your palms”. And everyone buys it, everyone’s out there buying gifts, booking tables, trips, theater seats, to make sure that people know they are liked.. I know I’ve touched on this before, but why the hell can’t people just show love, be kind, give gifts whenever? Why does it have to be a day? And not just that, but a day that ‘they’ assigned. Are we really that zombified, that we can’t just do it when we feel like it.. I understand birthdays, that’s still the day someone was born, which is unique and personal.. but this?? Easter? Christmas? Western society is so good at preaching freedom of thought, of decision, but still manages to push a whole bunch of ‘do this and do that’ in our face. And we fall for it.

But!! Happy valentine’s everyone. I love you no more today than I do any other day (which is quite a bit) but I don’t want to be worse than anyone else.

Gotta rush. Theater tickets to be picked up, need to confirm restaurant table, buy some flowers and chocolate, and make sure I brush up on the three magic words. Not.

Optimal Walking Speed

Okay. Haven’t written for a while. But instead of doing something serious, I have a trivial matter to attend to:

Coldness has shown her icy face in Stockholm. I thought she’d take a sabbatical, but no, she’s back, in full force. I took a walk yesterday, in the freezing cold, and a question (besides the obvious, continuous question of why the hell i live here) came up: what is the optimal walking speed to reduce the effect of subzero temperatures?

This might sound silly at first, but I was engrossed during my 1hour walk. Walking too slow meant my body didn’t warm up, walking too fast brought up the wind chill factor and froze my face. I tried walking sideways (my ears turned to ice), and backwards (I kept walking into stuff). Walking without thinking about the cold worked fine for a while, but you could only ignore her for a short while. I realized that there must be a speed to walk that is right in the middle, the optimal speed in which my body will brave the cold. I mean, obviously, I could’ve taken the subway, a bus, or stayed inside, but that’s beside the point.

I began extrapolating this analogy to all sorts of things, it started getting to me. All of life seems to be about finding that optimal balance. In walking, in work, in relationships, exercise, passions, friends. There’s always a balance of good vs. the less good. But, what if there’s no balance? What if it’s too cold for any optimal walking at all? More clothes? Change country? Stop walking?

I mean, a polarbear would've had no problem with the walk yesterday. Some things just have an easier time getting balanced in their right environment. Do balances happen naturally? Do we have to work on them? Should we?

So many questions... welcome to 2007!

Personal Morality II

(this was thought to be an answer to eddie's comment, but became a bit too lengthy)

tedward.. though i understand what you mean, the pessimistic notion that EVERYTHING can potentially harm another human being is a notion that i cannot accept. Theoretically, i'm sure you're right, and one could find harm in even the most 'honorable' (i'm tired of putting quotation marks after every relative term, so include it where you see fit) of deeds, and justification in the most horrible ones. It's up to each individual to decide their own morals, to position themselves in the huge spectra of right and wrong, from where it's viewed, where it's based, who it's targeted to etc etc etc ad nauseum.

This is what i meant with personal morality. At every turn we make choices about whether what we do is 'right' or 'wrong' - everything from jumping over the subway check points to deciding whether to help an old lady across the street - and i believe these daily choices define us for who we are. I agree completely about not judging people - as i said, i think everyone feels their moral choice is justified and coherent with their idea of morality. But unfortunately (or?) we do live in societies, with laws, with accepted social moral standpoints, with set ideas that, although constantly changing, protect us from the shock of having someone go against our own personal morality. Yes, some individuals and even societies consider paedophilism to be an accepted sexual preference. In some i'm sure it's even the norm. Some people feel justified to hate immigrants, to cheat on their wife, to steal from banks, to rape, to kill. But without a sense of right or wrong - personal AND universal - where would we be? How could we ever have any kind of order, justice, fairness, security (quotation marks all around) without in some way agreeing on the basics.

Personal Morality

All my life my main mission has been to understand people. I have a profound belief that everyone on this planet is good, or at least feels they’re good. Feels they’re justified to do, say, and be the way they are. And instead of judging them (though I can disagree like a monkey) I try to understand where they’re coming from.

Morals, ethics, the distinction between right and wrong. They’re all so personal. It’s insane that someone actually sat down and decided to simplify everything into ten commandments, or a law book, but I’m really glad they did, cuz sometimes I can’t help but be shocked at the things people do.

I’m not calling myself a saint, I do my fair share of immoral deeds, but somehow I base my life on the notion that doing something that can potentially hurt another human being will eventually hurt me. So I don’t. try my very hardest not to. And I’m all for spontaneity. I applaud selfishness and the drive to get what you want. but I guess my line is drawn with doing this at the expense of someone else, or without considering the possibility that that action can harm someone else. I guess that’s where my personal morality is grounded.

How about yours?

A Pinch of Salt

Please, don't take what you read here too seriously (yeah, you know who you are). The simple fact that you're reading this means you're my friend and have my respect. I in no way insinuate that you're annoying or taking up my valuable time if i in a post write that i'm stressed cuz i don't have time to meet all my friends. On contraire, i'm talking about you, silly! So please, drop me a line, gimme a call, or walk away knowing that you're appreaciated. You gotta read all of this with a pinch of salt, i'm not whining though it might look like it, i'm not sad though it might sound it. These posts are usually written in half sleep or half stress... except this one obviously, this one is all me. 'Cept i'm sick.

So much to say! my apartment's looking über, finally hooked up internet here. it's taken ages, but it's been worth it. my couch is here soon (that's a story and a half in itself), and then i'm done. special shoutout to supereddie who's helped me with pretty much everything.

Another shoutout to Dreyfuss and Karalin, enjoying the Tanzanian heat and insects to the fullest i hope. miss you guys.

wait, when did this turn into a fuckin thank you speech? cuz i'd like to thank my producer, my masseus, my managers and agents, the girl that does my facials, jerry at Burger King, and - of course - God.

The Ball-Juggling Syndrome

I simply can't seem to find the time to do everything i want, see everyone i should, read everything i've planned. Though i seem to find no time to do anything but 'stuff', i'm always neglecting something. Someone is always dissappointed.

My social network is comprised of the core, the extended, and the potential friends. Somewhere i seem to have gotten mixed up, cuz i spend more time with potentials, then extendeds, then cores. And by the time i realise this, the cores are annoyed, some extendeds have become potentials again, while the potentials are becoming extendeds. So i concentrate on the core whilst still giving ample time to the other too to make sure they're not forgotten.

Two elements are however always shunned: Me, and my family. Somehow the more i count on someone, the less love i give them. odd. but understandable.

Juggling sucks. Rarely i manage to throw all the balls up at once and get to breathe for a moment, before it all comes crashing down.

That said, i wouldn't really want it any other way.

WAR

deaths. innocent deaths. as of now, 230 for Lebanon, and 18 for Israel.

my aim with this blog is to be internal and personal. i want to refrain from being too political and stuff since i don't really think it's relevant, but now... ugh. it's hard. it's hard to stay objective, and hard to stay neutral.

the crazy thing is, i understand both sides, and can see so many similarities between them. the frustration, the fear, the need to protect yourself and your own, your honour and your country... but there are of course some huge differences: one side is supported by the world's only superpower and has a military presence to prove it, the other not. one has more invested in the US economy than any other country in the region, with the possible exception of Saudi Arabia (maybe, not too sure). the other barely pays for one dinner at the White House. etc. etc. ad gayinum.

i guess my point is this: tables turned. Israels enters Lebanese territory and kills two 'soldiers' from Hizbollah or Lebanese soldiers. Lebanon responds by heavy attacks of Israel cities (to Lebanon's limited capabilites). World response? "allright lebanon, just make sure you don't kill too many civilians"?

bah.

i really hope everyone in lebanon is okay, if any of my family reads this know that i'm thinking of you constantly. we haven't spoken for ages, i suck for that, but know that i'm worried and anxious and my heart is going out to all of you. I hear from my mom what's going on and send my regards, but still, from me to you: i love you. be strong.

Sane Indifference

Pleasure seeking future whims
Sing a jingle, watch it swim
Social stance affects romance
Affects the chance to play and win

Define the signs by playful guesses
Impress, confess without a message
Hide, confide and strive to differ
Don’t deliver, learn your lesson

Staples, labels, notions, brands
Turns to yearning, spurs demands
Main lane freight train ultra speed
Need to bleed the brakes and land

The difference is coincidence
Senseless ignorance
Fenced up innocence
Feigned (in)dependence

Train needs maintenance
Train needs fuel
Sane indifference
Can be so cruel

Collectively Unique

I was talking to a friend about the uniqueness of people the other day. How everyone is striving to be as original and special as possible. Most of us tend to do this by associating ourselves with various groups, whether it be countries, religions, types of music or interests. Which is kinda confusing when you think about it: we spend so much time being unique collectively. We’re ‘social individuals’. ‘generally unique’. Everyone wants to be so special that they join groups sharing their uniqueness. Groups much smaller than the obvious, that everyone is the same. I’ve had this argument with SuperEddie before, but let me reiterate: we’re all unique, and we’re all the same. We all have a chance to be anyone of the 6billion people living on this planet. It’s just a matter of circumstance.

What we’ve ended up doing is separating this feeling of unique unity to much smaller groups. Football teams, sects, book clubs. We select parts of ourselves that we enjoy, and find them in other people. We shun parts that we don’t enjoy, and shake our heads at those who have them. It is a bittersweet realization that we’re all the same. I think most people spend a lifetime defining their originality, that which separates them from the pack, so to speak, only to find out with age how similar we all are, irregardless of age, race, culture or social stance. Or at least I have…

I guess the point is, I love being the same as you. It’s a wonderful feeling to know that, with a few minor changes, I could’ve been you. All the way. Cuz you’re pretty cool.

Mary Jane goes Visual

Yeah. Spent the weekend filming my music video. Those who know me will automatically assume that my big ego would’ve benefited from this. But really, even I have my limits.

That said, it was a blast. And exciting. I just hope they don’t make me into more of a gay fucker than I already am…

London

Was there last week. Nostalgia to the max. Besides the sites, the weather and the routines (the travel card, the pennies, the off-license (god I missed you), the ridiculous prices, the English speakers, the fact that it’s crowded on a Thursday night) I met some people that reminded me why I loved that confusing metropolitan city so much:

Nadz. My ex. But so much more. She’s grown into such an amazing woman. It’s indescribable how lovely it is that we can be best friends and for it to be like it was without being weird.

The Bennet brother. I lived with Nino and connected with Alan in my last year. They’re like my brother’s as much as friends. The second we met it was back to normal, as abnormal as that is. But lovely. Can’t be said enough: you guys rock.

Tina. Über girl. Drunkard. She was drunk when she picked me up. How can two people who have spent so little time together be such good friends?? Fuck knows. But it’s great.

Random people. As always, I meet them. And love them. Noticeable on this journey were Dane and Dave, Tina’s friends who were your typical British kids with a twist. Awesome dudes. And from nino’s corner, two kiwi chicks, Lulu (which apparently, she wasn’t called, but I like the name) and Rachael (who’s addiction to gum intrigued me way too much, a girl who’s managed to go to the Vietnam war without getting trenchfoot, who is traditional in the sense that she kept expecting me to throw my jacket on every puddle we jumped over), as well as random people whose names, faces, and actions I can’t remember.

Good times? They keep on coming.

Farewell to the Dingo

Less than a year ago an event took place in my life which only crashing and burning could alleviate. Some of you may be familiar with the crash n burn philosophy, but for you who just joined us, it’s your basic überation of lifestyle in order to overshadow the main issue by creating a bunch of small issues. I guess you could say that.. anyway, to the point, as you can imagine, crash n burn is helped greatly by the consumption of alcohol (not copious amounts, just enough to keep an active energy level; crash n burn is quite a tiring exercise..), and alcohol in Sweden is unfortunately best consumed in a bar.

Jesus, this is gonna be too long of a story if I write this much.

The dingo. It’s more than just my favourite bar, where I had my gigs and could speak English doing so (“but you can speak swedish!”), where they knew us and we knew them. It’s even more than the only bar I’ve ever been in where the bouncer took my phone and jacket and refused to let me out before they closed since I looked sad. Or where the owner poured vodka in my wine cuz I told her a bad joke.. No, the dingo has been the beginning and end of a wonderful crash n burn experience. Not the first, obviously, but the first done consciously, being aware of what I was unconsciously doing, if you see what I mean. And I’ve made sure to appreciate and enjoy every step of the way. I guess that’s why it didn’t take that long… word…

So. Dingo Stockholm. In the words of my favourite bartender, Matt:

Up yer bum

Swetropolitan

Yes. I speak Swedish. And really, it sounds like I know it fluently.

Yes. I once wore jeans. And really, while wearing them, it really looked like I was comfortable.

Yes. I go to work. And really, it looks like I enjoy it.

I know it sounds like I’m fully conversational in Swedish. But I’m not. Can’t argue properly in that language. Can’t write songs or read books properly either. I wonder if I could fully express love. I mean, spoken love.. obviously.

In annoys me that so many people get annoyed with me speaking English. But why? Do you think I do it cuz I think it’s cool? Surely you can respect my wish to speak the language I’m most comfortable in, though for you it ‘sounds’ like I speak perfect Swedish. Or is it that you can’t understand English – a notion quite absent in Swetropolitan (new word, figure it out) society?

I don’t mind explaining it (“lived abroad most of my life went to international schools and got an English education and upbringing”) if you promise not to get annoyed.. and none of that fucking condescending American accent hick thing either. You don’t see me sticking out my teeth and prancing around like a fairy every time I speak yours..Deal?

Yes. It sounds like I’m pissed off. And really, whilst writing this, I felt it.

But I’m not.

Hello there happy reader!

Emma Micski just wrote about this, but i've thought about it too:

lately i've been hearing about more and more people reading this blog... which is kind of a surprise, since i thought only eddie and the random friend actually cared... But now i've heard people in Lebanon, the states, brazil, indonesia and spain are reading it... dudes... i miss you!!

So, if you read this, have read this, want to read this, please send me a comment, say hi, make me happy. let me know if you want me to write anything in specific, since you're the one reading it. and if you're shy, send me a mail to hanijazzar@gmail.com

Peace out

Sunny Bunnies

Sun has finally graced Stockholm, accompanied by whaletailing bunnies, tirekicking östermalmsbrats with gucci shoes and shorts, huge sunglasses, short skirts, young young young girls that look disturbingly older than they are, huge queues to every single seat in the sun, pollen-allergies, swollen eyes, sneazes, coughs, tans.

James' vocabulary has rubbed off on me. So, for the record: if you read me say anything funny, or if you hear a new word come out of my mouth, most probably it's directly from James, aka JuanEye V.

welcome back sun.. you have been sorely missed

Blame-a-Friend.com

Another scary thing I’m noticing, after a conversation with a good friend: we are now entering a stage in our lives where we’re starting to refine, cut down, and homogenize the people we’re close to. If a friend “isn’t a real friend”, if parents aren’t “doing what they’re supposed to”, if a lover or a former lover isn’t responding in a certain, people are just cutting their ties. Variety goes out the window, as does age difference and a difference in interests. People seem so adamant to only have friends that fit their view of what ‘friends’ are…

I’ll try not to point fingers, I’ll try not to bring words like ‘escapist’, ‘conflict-phobia’ (which isn’t really a word) into this, since I really want to see it from their point of view. I just can’t relate. I mean, unless someone has done me wrong (really really wrong) I couldn’t just block them out of my life. Especially not someone who I once upon a time counted on as a real friend. Not that anyone shares my definition of a ‘real friend’ I think. For me, everyone’s on the list until they do something to get taken off.

I really think this is a time in our lives when we need to be expanding the people we refer to as friends, not narrowing down the field to a lucky few. Give people a chance, then give them another. Don’t expect so much from them. Blocking them out should only be done if they specifically ask for it or if they’re directly responsible for making you feel bad. And by bad, I mean DIRECTLY bad, not the usual “I just don’t feel good around her, I don’t like the way he acts” bla bla.

Sometimes people have a bad feeling, and instead of ignoring it, or looking within themselves to see what’s up they externalize the feeling to some source, whether it be family, friends, jobs, monkeys or whatever. Please stop. Unless they have deliberately hurt you, it’s so much easier to talk to them about it. I think anyway.

Jesus, what a rant. Can you tell I have loads of time on my hands now?

A Difference in Opinion

Still amazes how different things affect people. it's all so relative, if you don't mind the cliché. Like how a hot dog can taste so much better than a gourmet dinner, or how a little peck on the mouth can make you feel so much better than full-blown wild sex. How an über party that you paid shitloads for can pale in comparison to sitting on a shitty park bench a whole day. Why is that? is it mood related? company related? or is it just that certain glorified things are bound to fail since they never live up to expectation?

Ultra Dissage

Regression... Involuntary social withdrawal... Boonies...

I'm feeling dissed...

Dissed out by the amount of fucking moves i've had to endure throughout the years. A little uninteresting history lesson: in the course of Hani's short 25 year life, he's managed to move house 22 times. Twenty-fucking-two. I'm le tired of moving. I love the fact that i've seen so much, been so many places, but my personal baggage is growing with every move, and i don't know if i can hold all the weight for much longer... i just wanna dump the shit off, take a deep satisfied breath, but my feet up on my table, flick on my tv, get one of my books out from my bookshelf, and chill. "Soon my young padowan"

Update shmupdate

Malta – awesome. New job – superstressy, but awesome. Moving soon – a shame, I’ve just gotten used to living there. But it’s been awesome. Friends – still gottem, still love’em. Foes – errrr, what? Weather’s getting better, bunnies abound, people are smiling. I guess I haven’t been writing cuz there’s really not much to say. I’m happy. I want to make sure my friends and family are happy. No one should be feeling sad. Not without a really really good reason. I’ve met some awesome people lately, expanding my social network.. but I shouldn’t be neglecting my core friends.. so if you’re listening, puss, you’re still on the top of my list.. but new people have come and joined you. Which is okay, there’s plenty of room up there.

And since I’m not sure people are reading this anymore, I’ll stop here. Send me a comment. Tell me what you wanna hear, and I’ll see if I can oblige.

And remember: life’s great. Don’t forget.

Surfing the Wave

The stress I’ve been feeling is equivalent to swimming in a turbulent ocean. Sometimes the current gets so strong that I feel myself close to losing control, other times it’s calm and nice, just bobbing up and down.

I realize that it’s a lot like surfing.. when a big wave comes towards me, it’s all about kick starting the motion, standing up on the board, and riding it. When it works well, it’s damn rewarding. When it doesn’t it shouldn’t really matter; there’ll be loads more waves to surf. What I can’t do is a) complain, b) get overpowered by it, and c) act like I don’t want to be in the ocean.. I mean, the beach is right there. I can leave anytime.

Had a gig at the dingo last week and was surrounded by my friends and family. Suddenly, all the stress, the hecticness, the limb cutting, it all became so worth it. I love my life. Stress and all.

To Assume...

... makes an ASS out of U and ME..

so don't.

It's Ulcer Time!

Stress in multitude. I was never good at juggling. I like to look at each ball for a while. Throw it high up in the air and watch its motion. Project its course and where it will land. But this year has not given me that luxury.

I know I shouldn’t complain, I know that with my relatively young age I should be nothing but happy over the amount of work, friends and family that all want my input, to see me, to show me they care. But I’m so fucking busy I never get to repay the favour. I never get to plan anything, the only freetime I get is spent breathing and getting ready for the next onslaught of meetings, dinners, birthdays (5 this month!), coffees, rehearsals, recording sessions and apartment viewings. What’s left is that all those fields are given partial attention, making everyone involved feel like I’m not engaging myself. That it’s all about me.

A good friend was upset with me about how little time I have, how complicated it is to see me. Got me thinking… am I complicating my own life? Am I creating scenarios to take my mind of the real issues in my life? Wish I had the time to figure that out. I’m like a leaf in a stream that’s turning to a river heading for a waterfall…

Cold Day, Hot Wok...

Sometimes you find friends in the strangest places, under the strangest circumstances. I can do nothing but be grateful for that.

They say the eyes are windows to the soul... Does that mean that the prettier the eyes, the nicer the soul? hmmm..

Anyway, suddenly the cold and the snow aren't bothering me anymore. Could be the sun, could be the company, could be the hope that this isn't eternal. I'm not really looking for a reason to be happy. I'll just smile and accept.. and be grateful..

Incessant Winter, give us a break

please. it's been a hard season. your constant changes and inability to heat up this cold, dark land is getting to me. help us. we need some sun, some warmth. i'm begging you. enough with the snow, enough with the freezing cold, enough with giving us two days of sunny hope and then snatching it away. not even satan is that cruel. it's hard to stay happy, positive and smiling when my head's bowed down and my shoulders are hunched. so again, and i don't what the hell we've done to deserve this, but please winter, give a us a break.

yours truly,
a sun-defficient, scarf-wearing, snivveling arab.

Nobody's Perfect

Someone told me that true love means not just accepting the other person’s faults, but loving and cherishing them.. kudos to that person… “but is that even possible?” I thought, and put on the TV. And of course, the universe being what it is, decided to answer my question straight away:

“Serial Killers, and the women who love them”. Hmm.. the discovery channel seemed to be running out of good material for shows, but still, the point was made.. if someone can run around and murder little kids, and still be loved, then surely someone out there will be willing to look at my faults and love them? And there are many faults.. some are listed in my description. Some my friends know.. others are barely known to myself..

· I lie a bit, or exaggerate the truth

· I act like I know stuff I really don’t sometimes

· I can get too inquisitive.

· I’m pretty defensive when criticised.

· I take a lot of space and attention.

· I’m very loud..

· I talk a lot.

· I’m a bit disträ (in English that’s kind of distray, woozy, all over the place)

· I’m temperamental

· I’m overly emotional, which is good, but can get out of hand sometimes

· I don’t like cleaning everyday.. when it gets too messy, I’ll snap out of it.

· I procrastinate… a lot

There’s so much more, but it’s pissing me off.. you get the point though

Expressen Rebuttal

Jesus, tabloids and their skewing of words.. first of all, I’m not a turk come down from the mountains in search for a wife. Secondly, though the article does make a strong point, I’m very happy being on my own, and am not ACTIVELY out looking for someone to share the rest of my life with.. makes it sound like I’ve taken time off work or something.. jesus.. and the title doesn’t even fit the body! But ah well, what is printed is printed, and can’t be removed.. I’ll have to live with the fact that Hani + drinks + dingo equals not nice pictures, stupid sayings, and anxiety. Will I live and learn? I think not…

Wait...

Are you gonna take that out man?

I'd Rather...

1. Show too much emotion, than too little
2. Talk too much than too little
3. Love fullheartedly with the risk of hurt, than love cautiously and safely
4. Laugh than cry, see the positive rather than the negative
5. Deny my mind than my heart
6. Hope than dwell
7. Play than work, unless they’re combined, that’d be awesome
8. Be liked for me, and not who I could be
9. Like people for who they are, and not their potential
10. Buy a homeless person a cup of coffee than give Amnesty €5 (if I had to choose between them, that is (although I did sign up for greenpeace last week, but it’s hard to give money to homeless pandas…))
11. Have no hair than no friends (and I love my hair)
12. Write than read

Again...

Again it’s begun, the ending is done,
The fun that was once so vibrant has gone.
Again there’s a reason, as vague as before,
of dreaming a feeling that’s out of control.

A seasonal thing? Affected by me?
A treason it feels, of the highest degree.

Again there’s the fear, that will surely subside,
Again the commotion of sleepless nights.
Of endless fights, both inner and out,
Of hopelessly righteous excuses and doubt.
Of trying too hard, or just not enough.
Again with the cyclical, destructive stuff.

Waiting, debating it'll soon be too late.
Feels I’m overrating my visions of fate.
Choices choices, simply to be made..
Cling on to a mirage, or watch it fade away?

Old Man

I have a habit of sitting down with homeless people and talking to them, been doing it for years, and sometime in September I sat down with this old man who told me that the biggest mistake he ever made was remember his past, that the days just got worse and worse as he looked back at was used to be, and everyday got a bit less like yesterday.. I was so sad after that conversation, mainly because he was in tears.. You could see that he loved the life he used to have, had always loved the life he USED to have, to the point when all he was doing was missing that life so much that he stopped living. I ended up writing a song about it, which I’m recording now, and still think of him. Hope he’s found happiness in today.

Self Sabotage will kill you...

You know what hurts me the most? People who sabotage themselves in public. People who, alone and with others, continuously put themselves down. People who see so much negativity around them that the positive goes unnoticed, or at least is never uttered. And only a fraction are doing it just to fish attention, most of them actually mean it!!

I hear statements like “this is the way it’s always been”, “no matter what I do I still feel (insert self-criticising adjective here)”, from people of all ages, genders, sizes, social and political stance and backgrounds. It’s the dreaded evil spiral that has been bouncing around Eddie’s blog. It really hurts me. It saddens me.

The first thing that needs to change is your perception of yourself. Nothing in this universe will ever view and treat you the way you want to be treated if you’re not setting a good example by doing it yourself. Nobody will talk and think about you the way you wish before you do. We’re all marketing ourselves, but if you don’t believe in the product you’re marketing, you’re bound to do a shit job. Stop wasting your time worrying about not being happy, and just be happy. Stop trying to make everyone else accept and like you, and try to accept and like yourself instead. Then people will follow. Promise.

Happiness or Not Happiness - That's not a question

Would it be strange to say that I feel I’ve gotten a phobia for bad news and have thus made sure that all things with a tendency to deliver these news are kept at arm’s length? Or at least taken with a scoop of salt. But this might have evolved to an indifference where nothing negative really affects me. Is this a bad thing? I mean, am I partaking in repression; will I wake up with the worst anxiety and depression some day soon, where all the feelings I’ve “bottled in” will finally show their face? Hmm.. doesn’t really sound like me, but what the hell do I know?

Happiness should never be questioned though. Just accepted, appreciated, revered, venerated. And though it can never be expected, it can be worked on. Just like good sex…

Mind Battle

It’s hard when contradicting emotions present themselves with almost equal vigour. One looking in the future, one in the past. One that can’t but remember, the other aching to forget.

“Let it go, it’s history”

“Don’t lose your integrity”

“Can’t dwell on what’s been”

“It’s not over, will it ever be?”

I feel the need to cater to both sides, as both are a part of me, and I understand them equally. A bunch of unrelated decisions wait around the corner, whilst this topic – that has occupied the majority of my brain for a long while – is seemingly forever looming.

Make a decision, either way.

But make sure it’s the right one.

No pressure.

Do they have any idea??

So, 2006 just kickstarted with the power of a spaceshuttle. Might be plain ordinary naïve optimism, but this is already turning out to be a year like no other. But first, a history lesson: one year ago today, I was working with telemarketing on a shitty pay, with little prospective growth, treated like the slave I was, both by the company and by the annoyed customers I called at ridiculous hours, offering ridiculous deals (and selling ridiculous amounts).

Flash forward a month. One of the many cv’s finally paid off, and I got a job as an assistant to a really cool guy, working in an online casino. It’s a great job, I get to speak English, I get to be creative and use all the university knowledge I though was a waste of time. Could it get better?

Flash to two weeks ago. I’m still happy, working hard having fun, when I get contacted (headhunted, no cv sent this time!) by a huge company that offers me my boss’ position. A day later, another company hears that I’ve been offered a job and get in on the bidding, offering an even better position and a better salary. My current company finds out and offer me a better salary, though not as competitive as the others.

Now, sitting in front of my computer at my current job, I feel a sense of pressure and stress, but also a gratitude and amazement at how lucky I am. But most of all, I’m in shock. In my mind, I’m still wearing baggy trouser. In reality, I’m still donning a whacko hairdo, still wearing weird jewelry, still speaking like I’m trying to infiltrate the bloods by selling crack to a bunch of kids..

So I’ve asked this before, and I’ll ask it again: do they know?? Are they aware who I am?? I can’t believe that these huge huge companies, with their suits and graphs and meetings and schedules and kick offs and bla bla bla want ME!! Insano.. in the braino…

2006.. here I come.

DigiCam Rant

Okay, it’s been a while since I bitched at stuff.. they’ve been piling up. We’ll start with one of my all time annoyances: the digital camera. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a technology freak, lovin’ it large, but I just don’t see the point in people taking a picture, and then two seconds later showing it to me.. I mean, what do you want, an “oh wow, I remember that, a whole two seconds ago.. good times”. A picture is a memory eternalized.. a memory..

and there’s no respect for the ‘kodak moment’ anymore. People are shooting left and right and center, taking pics of everything from their kids posing next to a garbage can to the odd pic of a normal car on the street.. you’re left with 1000 pictures that you never watch, cuz most of them are just a waste of film and space. “oh look honey, there’s you walking down the street, and there’s you eating ice cream, and there’s you posing in front of some ice cream stand. Umm.. here’s a picture of a streetsign.. here’s one of some part of a building or a tree or something… umm this is the sky.. this is the floor of our hotel room where we stayed for a few hours…” are those really memories we want to keep?

2005.. It's been good

Sure, this could be a sad post.. but that’s okay. It was a long year… I got engaged, I moved to Lidingö, I got an awesome job, started getting gigs. I’ve been to Scotland, Kalix, Egypt, Italy, Denmark, Russia, and the States. I’ve experienced shitloads of contradicting emotions, situations, and behaviors. I’ve seen the best parts of my life (so far) and the worst parts (so far). I’ve moved three times last year, and more to come, surely.

I’ve also witnessed loads of love: from friends and family, between friends and family, from complete strangers and longlost friends. I’ve been around a lot of aggression and misguided annoyance. And dished out my fair share of the same as well..

But this new years gave me one piece of information, I guess the moral of 2005 for me: cherish your friends. Not the general term, ‘your friends’ meaning anyone.. no no, ‘your friends’ meaning the group of people that have, through the good, the bad, the fights, the hugs, the love and the hate, the moving, the pain, the happiness, stood by me like pillars of some ancient monument – strong, proud, and immovable. To go through so much, to have had the life that I have, and still be able to look all around and be surrounded by the most superawesome of people.. it brings a tear to my eye.. and makes me smile like a monkey.

No special mention, you know who you are: I Love You, and wish I could give you the world.

Here’s to 2006, people.

(hmm.. not a sad post at all.. phew)

A Jolly Christmas Post

Christmas.. on everyone’s mind right now.. it’s hard not to bitch. It’s hard to look at this created love, happiness, sense of giving, respect, and not ask a question I ask every year: “if you like this feeling so much, why only have it once a year”. Oh sorry, I forgot your birthday. Why only twice a year? Why not everyday?

How about smiling, feeling jolly, giving people gifts when you see something that makes you think of them, rather than the forced “A PERFECT GIFT FOR YOUR SISTER/MOTHER/MONKEY” that seems to soil every advertising space in every public place as far as the eye can see.

I will not complain about capitalism. I will not damn the toy companies for their obvious exploitation of a holiday that once, long long long ago, had a meaning that surpassed making money. I will not damn the Christian church for taking this holiday and making it their own. I will not scream at the stressed out shoppers who instead of experiencing a glimpse of this fake joy get close to an emotional breakdown. I won’t even complain about the incessant cold. Wouldn’t be very Christmassy of me now would it?

So.. happy birthday jesus. I know, wherever you are, that you’re relaxed, chilling with Mohammed, Buddha, Moses, TuPac, Kurt Cobain, and Svullo. Say hi from me. And see you not too soon I hope.

Hangover Blues

Half passed nine in a half assed try
To convince my mentor to keep a lid on his alco drive
Instead the tables turned, as he reminded me I’ve got a lot to learn
About the respect to earn. About crash n burn.

We proceed through the gates with great anticipation
“one drink” he muses, “then off to the tubestation, cuz I’ve been craving a beer
Since the world was in creation” as we walk into the bar, he’s shaking with elation.
“one drink” he asks, and the tender complies, a tv celeb of the docusoap kind
And I’m quick to follow, though my stomach is hollow,
I order a strongbow and begin to swallow it down
When all of a sudden a hand grabs my shoulder
There stands a dude as big as a boulder, with a nazi do and tattoos that looked older
Than him, scars on his chin, eyes dark as sin.

As the minutes progressed the conversation digressed and the man and his friend
Grew drunker and spent a fortune feeding me and eddie drinks,
And we weren’t ready to be the weakest link
So we drank till we dropped, shot after shot,
Until the bartender told us to drop it and stop
By then, alas, the damage was done,
And the fun we’d been having was beginning to run… out

Well at home, the dizziness started, feeling retarded, salty spit and strange vision sparkle
Followed by a nap on the carpet that ended in a lurch, a rush to the porcelain church,
Jesus, never remembered puking to be such work, back jerking like a wrestling turk til my eyes popped out and my dry throat hurt.

No sleep that night. No fun the next day.
Like someone came in and gangraped my brain
A body with no function, a heart that feels shame
But hey, it was fun, I’d do it again…

Reaching the last rung on the Crash n Burn ladder

Back and forth through the emotional ride,

Up and down ‘til his mind’s fried,
Tried to stay on top of it,
Tried to stay calm,
But C’n’B ain’t no ‘way of the open palm’.
It’s the way of the closed fist
Kamikaze like nothing else exists
And if love persists, it’ll Crash and Burn like everything else
It’ll twist and turn and succumb to melt
And now, the great masturbator has created a crater that later will show,
That the playa has turned into a playa hater fo sho,
That climbing up the rim of his self-made hole
He’ll realize that he needs to cater to his wounds, and lay low.
Now he’s burned and crashed
His eyes filled with smoke and ash
He’s confused by the outcome
And ready to dash
And his thoughts come in like the hurricane that caused this mess:

“you’re falling back in, to an old beginning, calling it new but your certainty keeps thinning, you recognize the patterns like lanterns in the dark, but a spark of hope helps you cope with decisions, your mission’s changed like nuclear fission, is this really what you envisioned: a vision of trust gone bust and lust turned to thrust after thrust in a dance that must continue, a dance that’s in you, in me, in us all.

Cyclicality in all its glory, cyclicality in this and every story, surely something must feel unique, surely not all is bleak, reeking of familiarity week after week? You’re weak, and getting weaker, will you be a finder, or forever a seeker, never a leader, never a believer?

Compromise equals complication, yet is unavoidable in any relation, so will you give in to this revelation, or live forever in isolation? You’re passing station after station, and soon will reach your goal. Will you accept these changes, will you strive to be whole?”

As said… a whirlwind of thoughts…

My Whirlwind of Thoughts

I’ve been sick for over a week now.. it’s a bitter sweet thing, being sick. I get really whiney and small, which is great if someone’s there to take care of you, but quite shitty if not.. well, actually, I’d have to disagree with myself there, it’s been really nice being sick alone.. it helps that I just moved into my very own place. First time I live by myself in god knows how long (no seriously, like 6 years). Being alone rocks! Remember that post I had about being comfortable with yourself? Well, I put it to the test this weekend.. with flying results, I love hanging out with me, I’m so much fun.. sometimes we fight, sometimes we get on eachother’s nerves like crazy, but all in all me and myself are the best of friends. I mean, we’re equally annoying, equally annoying, equally funny…

A very good friend told me last week that it’s rare to see me not saying or doing anything.. I took that in more than he can imagine, it’s not a trait I want to keep.. i mean, i enjoy me talking and acting alot, entertaining and what have you, but from a personal point of view i need to be able to withdraw, even in social situations. Living alone really helps, unless I talk to myself.. I caught myself a couple of times looking for things to do (play guitar, clean, gaming, tv etc etc) and had to counter it by sitting on the couch doing nothing…

My head is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, and my task will be to stave the wind to a gust, then to a breeze, until it can finally rest in the still air

Shooting myself in the foot

Alot can be told by when someone sets a meeting with you… picture this: you meet someone you like, and call them to ask if they want to meet up. Depending on their answer, you can pretty much guarantee what they think of you:

Monday – the day after the weekend, and thusly one of the worst times to set. The talk will mostly be about what you did during the weekend, how tired you both are, and how sad it is that it’s Monday. Basically, they’re saying “since I’m uncertain whether we have anything in common, I’ll give you today for us to have something to talk about”

Tuesday – by far the worst day to give someone. Tuesday have nothing; none of the memories of the fun filled past, none of the hope of the fun to come.. it’s the twilight day. Here, their statement is “hey, at least I’m making time to come see you!”

Wednesday – things start to look up.. at least here you’re given a day where you both can drink and talk about either the weekend that’s passed, or plans for the coming weekend. This is a good day as the person asking is somehow counting on you to make the middle of the week seem brighter.. succeed here and you’ve come one step closer to the weekend.

Thursday – the day before. This is a test. “You’re not cool enough to meet during the weekend since I don’t know you that well, but prove to me that you can have fun on a Thursday”.

And then comes the weekend. If you’ve gotten into this golden three day slot, you’re part of a special group, but even here there are degrees of appreciation:

Friday – the party day. The let-loose-after-a-hard-week-at-work day. Be invited today, and you’re seen as a fun person, ready to party it down dirty, C’n’B style. Since there’s no real time to prepare, this night is more about the nitty gritty of fun, so depending on what you’re looking for from the inviter, this is either real good, or semi-bad.

Saturday – for a new person, this is by far the best time to get invited. You have the whole day to prepare and get all shnazzed up and ready for action. A Saturday invite from a person you have romantic feelings for is almost a guaranteed “you’re almost in there, just show me a good time tonight and you’ll be a weekend regular”.

Sunday – this is the chill out day. Screw the partying, the late night drinking, the preparing, the constant spending of money. Sunday is all about spending it with someone you’re super comfortable with, so an invite would say just that… good on ya!!

Obviously, there are more factors to consider: the time of day is important; an afternoon is better than lunch, but worse than a night. Also, having coffee vs. a drink, a snack vs. a dinner, getting an exclusive invite (“you and me tonight”) vs. “I’m meeting all my friends, you wanna tag along”. Further, the place to meet says a lot as well.. start at her place and then go out, meet at the grill at two in the morning etc etc. Finally, the occasion is important. Getting invited on payday, or on a birthday, or new years, is a good way of making the invitee feel special.

So next time you plan a date, or a casual meeting, be sure to think about what time, day, and place of the invite… cuz if they’ve thought about it as much as I have, it’ll be as much of a statement as the actual invite is.

Unless it’s from me… cuz I like to see you all the time…

Time

Feels like ages since I wrote, but it’s not… time is so relative.. It’s such a perception thing.. this weekend was one of the first weekends that went really slow.. well, it started fast and furious, had a midsection that was slow to the point of boredom (but not quite there yet) and then had a big two-hour finale that stirred the whole pot right up again… time has a way of counteracting your current experience.. or maybe your awareness of it is directly correlated to the speed of it..

On a side note, why the hell does it take 3 seconds for 1 second to occur when you quickly lay your eyes on a watch… try it, take a digital or analogue watch, look away for a while, then look quickly at it… the seconds indicator will take ages to change, much longer than a second.. Strange shit..

Anyway, time.. the relativity of it.. pisses me off… today, work is slow, cuz I’m looking forward to after work.. yesterday, work zipped by since I had too much work to think about it.. up until the ‘incident’ two months ago time was moving pretty fast.. but these last months have been so incredibly slow, everyday has felt long and drawn.. that could also be that everyday has been filled with loads of thought, emotions, and events..

I could talk about einstein’s experiments with time and space and the whole, airplane moving vs. stationary clock.. but I’m not..

Point being, it hasn’t been such a long time without blogging, but it sure as hell feels like it..

more about time later, it’s one of my favorite subjects…

Feeling's Back II

Feeling’s back, back on the track with lack of direction, should hit the sack for further inspection but i’ve anxiously tapped out of my emotional pension. A half-hour tension zipped by, tipped off by the sexual sigh that’s inventing new cries to obscure prevention of what would surely fly as a rebound vengance. Feeling’s back, like it’d just begun, but through the fog of fun the sun is peering, daring us to stop disappearing from what we’re feeling, to start dealing with it like two adults should, knock on wood and stand up straight, take rejection as a sign of fate, while the universe smiles at our attempts at hate. Too late for regretting what’s already been, it’s too great to ruin with acts of sin, this crash n burnin’ could end up killing all that’s left of a new beginning. Kamikaziing always ends in a smack, and just like that, the feeling’s back.

Maybe I should have learnt how to land?

Did I take off too soon. Did I check the fuel tank, de-ice the wings, check the flaps and the vectors, the landing gear and all that? Could I have stayed for a while, made sure the ship was burning, made sure the fire was too wild for me to control.. I thought I did.. now I’m not too sure.. it’s hard when both the plane and the ship are telling you it’s too late, but you yourself know it’s not. But I guess I ended up listening to them.. they should know better than me anyway.. I wish I could turn the autopilot on and lean back for a while, but this mission is craving all my attention. Failure is expected. Failure is the goal. Or so my CnB mentor would say.

kamikazing it down to no-man’s land, Ibiza ‘98 style. Another night with unexpected outcomes. Sailorman dealt drugs across the globe; found the time to marry though. Five times. Beer foam dripping from his moustache, as he loudly recalls his anecdotes. Miami’s chief of police and some shah in iran, Libyan sheiks and carribean mafia lords. Had sex with 300 women and 20 men. Sailorman liked to keep himself busy, you could say. He liked me. I reminded him of someone, somewhere, and Sailorman has an eye for these things, as he puts it. Tried to teach me how to crash and burn in style. How to sustain kamikaziing to a manageable degree. 55 years of age, but with the mind of a sibling, not a parent. Looked me straight in the eye and said I was a ‘fin gubbe’. Apparently the biggest compliment a Swedish sailorman of his stature can say to another man. He was drunk though.

Feeling's Back

And just like that, the feeling’s back, the healing’s cracked up straight in half, the road screams out “no turning back”, and SMACK, there I’m trapped with oceans of emotions and notions previously motioned to a corner of the room, howling at the moon, waiting to swoop down. “Soon”, screams a brain I recognize as my own, it’s grown, but not beyond its comfortable home, conned its way to the spotlight gloom, donned new apparel from the nightlife gloom. “Soon”, she repeats, and my body’s jerking, working overtime to pass the radar of hurting, like a fighter jet readying for crash and burning, like an acid trip by an active surgeon a new version seems released everyday, and I’m just trying to find my way in this seemingly infinite, nonsensical play, so don’t lead me astray cuz I’m trusting your vision, it’s become a mission not to continue on this head-on collision, but deviation is the state in which something goes missing, something I for one can't seem to envision, a memory clinging on with dire precision, I listen to the tones of two love birds kissing and cringe, it singes my skin, her hinges are creaking from pressure within, walls lining up with cracks… and just like that, the feeling’s back…

A Ball of Conversation

Having a conversation is very similar to throwing a ball to each other, regardless of the number of people or the topic of discussion.. Allow me to illustrate:

When two or more people converse, the process revolves around pitching an idea (throwing a ball) to another person, who takes this idea, digests it, and then rebuts (throws the ball back). Now, as with everything in life, this is done in a multitude of ways, with varying results. Mostly, one or two balls are exchanged, usually tennis ball sized: easily manageable, moderate fun. With some people one develops a special way of throwing, or one learns the throwing technique of the other person, anticipating where the balls is heading, how fast, and how best to return it.

With some, it’s like throwing a water balloon into a wall… you throw it hopefully, wishing for a return, but no, you have to go to the wall yourself, pick up the balloon, and try again. These are the most horrible of conversations, because there’s a constant struggle.

With others, you could be juggling 10 bowling balls without difficulty. In fact, these conversations are usually the more rewarding, since they keep you alert and active. Usually it takes years to get to that level of conversation with someone, but sometimes, very very rarely, you meet someone who’s ball throwing skills directly correspond with yours.. Lovely when that happens.

That said, everyone can learn to keep a ball going, just like in real life. I mean, it’s easy to just dodge it, and stand there, but, as with real life, you’re mostly looked at with surprise. “why wouldn’t he want to at least catch it and lob it back to me?... that’s just rude” they’ll say.

So friends, when a ball is coming your way, be sure to catch it. Who knows? You could be juggling soon.

A Traveled Man

I am a traveled man
With hearts in many places
I have a simple mind
With forgotten faces

I live for indulgence
And smile at defeat
I yearn to someday
Love something concrete

I am a lonely man
Surrounded by desire
I cheat and I scam
I’m a thief and a liar

I crave some attention
Eccentric as they come
I’m too afraid to mention
Where my thoughts are from

I am a hypocrite
Who never follows his own advice
I am my own worst critic
Nothing's good in my eyes

I’m a selfish guy
But my soul disagrees
Lately this guise
Has become harder to keep

I live on the inside
And never let you see
What it reads on the flipside
What if feels to be me

Brothers

Aren't we the cutest..? I love you guys!

My Truth

Truth is so subjective… I’m not gonna go in to a whole Theory-of-Knowledge-philosophical-discussion, but think about it.. there are very few universal personal truths. With that in mind, everything you read here is from my point of view.. though I feel pretty proficient at practicing empathy, this blog is about a disregard to all that is not internal, in the hope of getting people to know me, and more importantly, for me to get to know myself. Sure I might use analogies and little stories, but that’s more for making sure people understand it, rather than me hiding behind it.

Listen, let’s get one thing straight: I’m not fake happy because I’m actually really upset or trying to upset or impress someone else, I’m not writing anything in this blog that is not entirely my truth, or very obviously meant as a joke (like, say, crack at kindergarten). There is no underlying theme meant to hurt or point fingers or poke wounds or say something else. This is a day-to-day monologue from me to you. Sometimes it’s nice. Sometimes not. But always me. And always my truth. Posting comments is a healthy way of creating dialogue (and highly appreciated!), but obviously, if you disagree with a post, you kind of have to say WHY you disagree.. otherwise we get nowhere..

I’m ranting now.. hmm.. wait, am I doing what I don’t want others to do?? shit.. I should just quit my job and start driving the number 2 bus.. and be underpaid, overworked, pissed on by bosses and customers alike.. or I should be a poor, starving person in Africa, or a citizen of a country who’s dictatorship government has just demolished their house. Or a Chinese woman who realizes that the baby girl she just gave birth to will have to die, cuz boys are more profitable and can take care of me when I’m old. Or I should be a Jew in the holocaust days. Or a Palestinian in the occupation days. Or Helen Keller. Or French (you see..? that’s obviously a joke). Maybe then i'd feel justified about being sad, angry, and taking my aggression out cuz i feel mistreated.. until then though, i'm gonna stick with being my happy self, with telling my truth as best as i see fit.

Peace

Insights

1. Coldplay kicked ass
2. Gold Frapp.. who the fuck is that??
3. Hanging out with a bunch of young girls can actually be quite a bit of fun (no, you perverted bastards, not meant like that at all)
4. Eddie’s cool.. if I had a list, you’d top that one too dude
5. McDonald’s food has crack in it. Burger meat in general has a milder form of crack in it
   But who wants a salad at 2 in the morning…?
6. Fahrenheit is awesome
7. I want to play in front of a huge crowd of people who all know and sing along to my songs
8. I have a lot of spiritual guides.. in fact, in a way, everyone I know is a spiritual guide in one way or other.Hopefully, the feeling is mutual…
9. My sister is awesome, I can’t wait to go to more concerts with her, or for her to get older so we can party hardy together (dude!! I can’t believe you didn’t know that me, Fadi and Dani have gotten drunk together.. duh!!)
10. I still hate swedish concerts.. but getting used to them fairly quickly.. it’s all about aggression mixed with humour and charm…
11. Blogs are cool! Besides Eddie’s blog, I’d like to recommend Ebitchu's, and Tina’s blog (check the links). They’re both so conversational in the way they write.. supercool..
12. I keep smiling at life, and it keeps smiling back…

PS

I'm gonna be an uncle, found out yesterday...

Dan and Chris... finally..

love you like crazy

Crash and Burn Revised

(another awesome weekend, filled with arab food and dance, spilled caprinhas and haloumi salads. It’s good to be alive…)

Before i start, a little note: there are actually more people reading this than I first thought... Good on ya mates!! BUT, please, call it politeness, call it ego food, whatever, but.. Write a comment.. It’ll make me feel good... if you don’t want to be known, make it anonymous. It’d make me a happy Arab…

Ok, so.. Crash and Burn. Many questions about what this concept actually entails, and after many conversations with my CnB mentor, we have devised a concise description of the purpose of the Crash and Burn mentality:

“It’s all about crashing so hard that you create a hole for yourself deep enough as to not see the huge crater right next to it. In other words, creating a set of problems and complications that don’t equate, but overshadow much bigger problems”

Capice?

So put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Eid Mubarak!

So errr, Ramadamadoodoo’s finished up. The Muslims can eat without restriction yet again. Which is a good thing.. cuz a hungry Arab is an angry Arab, as the saying goes. well, not really, but there’s probably some Lebanese saying or other that says just that. Osama Bin Laden was probably real hungry when he was planning the 911 attacks. Out of rats in your little cave there, buddy boy?

I had to remove something i wrote about my grandmother (god rest her soul) here, since someone thought it was disrespectful... to my defense, i loved and love my grandmother above all else, and any mention of her is with the utmost love, devotion, and respect. She always promoted my humour, and her and i always joked and laughed with eachother. I would be a much more boring person without her, and i think she would turn in her grave if she found out that i had to not be funny. i think not being funny would be disrespectful to her, and my fond memory of her. So i took the stuff out not out of respect for my grandma, but out of respect for those who complained. i hope everyone who reads this blogg know me, and know that i'm not even disrespectful to people i don't like, let alone one of the people that i value so greatly.

It’s been a hectic week, weak in the knees from lack of sleep, creep up each morning to a gradually increasing darkness and cold. Am I getting old? Nah, never liked the weather in this country this time of year. Somehow the people and the weather are interrelated. That’s why Spaniards are so fucking happy most of the time. In fairness, how can I expect the Swedish people to be happy and giddy if they’re walking around in the dark, hunched shoulders, heads down, with a shallow breath so their lungs won’t freeze, and a quick pace to shorten the period spent outside?
I think the government’s insane. Does it realize how many sick fuckers there’s gonna be (yours truly included) when it’s -20 degrees and we’re still standing around like the smack addicts we are to have that cigarette outside the bar? And friends.. sick people=sick pay=more tax=less jobs=the destruction of society as we know it. Yeah yeah, I know what you’re thinking, “he’s exaggerating a little bit now, isn’t he?”, but you mark my words, 2006 will be the year when the government finally does something it’s never done before: admit it’s wrong. Moreover, they’re gonna realize their own stupidity and legalize all drugs, everywhere. Coke at kindergarten, Crack at the Opera, Smack being handed around like flyers for a teenybopper club. Pilled up ravers at Sunday church…

A man can dream, can’t he?

Crash and Burn...

Sometimes the universe presents you with gifts that you didn’t even know you wanted.

Sometimes those gifts are tests, a chance for you to prove your dedication to yourself, your goals, your dreams, and your heart. Whether you really want to stay on the road you're on, or change direction.

Sometimes they’re answers to some unasked questions inside you, sometimes they’re questions you didn’t even know you were asking.

Sometimes you’re determined to feel, say, and do something a weekend that you’re convinced is what you need to feel good… and the universe shakes her head, fully aware of what you actually need, and presents it to you.

Sometimes it knows you won’t be receptive to presentations.. Instead she throws the gifts on you. Sometimes she makes it so obvious that there’s really nothing else you can do but bow your head gratefully and accept it.

Universe. Thank you for this weekend. You speak to me with the most straightforward signs that I have learnt to expect from you. Sometimes I’m unclear about your intentions, but never in retrospect.

My never ending respect and love goes out to you, the knowing unknown, that’s looking out for all of us, guiding us, and granting our souls the gifts that you know we need.

I’m athinking ’bout my doorbell…

Two people. Instruments. Energy. ‘Talent’...

Apparently, that’s more than enough to pull off an awesome show for 4000 unsuspecting kids (plus Jeppe and I). Minus the drunkards who for some reason lose the ability to jump vertically, the little fourteen yearolds girls who barely reached my bellybutton and still wanted (quite unsuccessfully) to something more than the armpit of a topless rastafarian dude, it was one of the most impressive shows I’ve seen.

But why, why, oh why, can’t people just stay in their fucking places.. why, oh why, do you need to push, pull, shove, elbow your way five centimeters forward, just to be pushed back. I’ve been to my share of concerts, all around the world, but Sweden takes the prize in the most annoying audience competition.. Jesus.. (who says relax, by the way). And my protective, brotherly instinct that fears for these little girls. If I, with a relatively high body mass and height, am having serious problem not toppling over, how can this little featherweights have a chance?? Jesus.. (still says relax)..

Calling it a Day

So many hurtful words were said yesterday. It seems, to my surprise, that I’m a prick, an asshole, a manipulative, controlling ‘politician’ that cares only for himself. That I lie, say mean things about the people I love, that I’m not to be trusted. And I think the most hurtful: that most of my friends agree with this.. that they’re in on pretending that I’m a nice guy, but actually they’re just as sick of it as everyone else.

I don’t buy it. I don’t feel it. Could be my ego. Could be my naïve positivity. But something tells me that, yes, I am eccentric, I can get too much, but my friends appreciate that about me.. my real friends.. those who truly love me unconditionally.. those who support me and appreciate me.. And most important: I love me, and feel like the universe loves me. thank god I didn’t take all the beautiful words as absolute truth this past week..

Thank God I was cautious..
Thank God I was scared
Thank God I built walls
To guard me from despair

Thank Love for this shit
Thank Love it’s not over
Thank Love for trying
Until she’s left with no care

Thank You for showing
That words have no stay
Thank Me for knowing
When to call it a day

Being Together Alone

Being alone ain’t all that bad…

At first, there are some uncomfortable silences.. you don’t really know what to say, how to act, what to do.

There are some awkward smiles, you get nervous, fidget, smoke more, drink more. Look around for something else, something external.

There’s a fine line between boredom and being uncomfortable with yourself.

Gigs are cool..

Wow.. i have so much to say I’ve gone blank. Gig yesterday, went beyond expectation. Micke's the man. Dude, i had an ENTOURAGE for a while, everyone at the place was there for me.. it's hard hard hard not to get a big head.. and i'm trying.. ego boost fo sho though.. in many aspects.. met some awesome friends, both new and old.

No philosophical shit in this post. No analogies.. Just a continuous growing feeling that it’s all gonna be juuuuuust fine.

To all who came and read this: thank you. To all those who didn’t: you were greatly missed.

Randomly Happy

I love my friends... dudes... yesterday was wonderful.. we're such gentlemen... I raise my glass and bow my head. you are truly appreciated.

In other news, when will someone bust my cover at work? I’m holding these important meetings, talking to the CEO, DEMANDING shit to be done, showing graphs, prospective charts, getting budgets larger than my annual salary, hiring people, recruiting clients.. and it’s just ME!!

I walk out, light a cigarette, look at my reflection – curly hair, beard, semibaggy trousers – and wonder what hallucinogenic drug the management is on, hiring someone like me…

I love my job. Too bad I’m working for the devil (sorry boss..).

The Beauty of Experience

I’ve forgotten to be grateful.. a gratitude to have the privilege to experience this life. To experience birth, finding friends that have stuck with me, a family that would die for me, the places I’ve seen, the things I’ve done. To get to experience happiness, love, panic, depression, anxiety, nervousness (both good and bad), comfort, loneliness. To eventually get to see your kids grow, surrounded by the friends you had when you were a kid. god, it's insane. Humans get to see and do so much.. we get to experience moments of complete ecstasy, mixed with the worst hardships. Some of our friends die, others are born. We see our parents get old, become grandparents, and next thing we know, we’re in their position, taking care of people who will one day be in our position, trying our best to help them understand how beautiful life is.

Life is wonderful… and I’m so grateful to be allowed to experience it all.

Thought Waves, Satan in Court, and Unknowns

I talk a lot. This my friends know. Most of what I say is true – well, my version of truth that is – but sometimes I like playing a devil’s advocate just to keep the conversation going. This can turn quite ugly: when discussing rape, pedophilia, racism, or any other social taboo, playing Satan’s lawyer brings you uncomfortably close to being mistaken for the dude himself.. It’s not that I really mind, I like the reactions and having 6 people arguing with me at once, but I see loads of misunderstandings from people who don’t know me, especially if I’m with my friends (who do know me, obviously). Or wait, maybe that’s easier.. I was out last Friday, with a bunch of friends and some ‘unknowns’, being my usual self, and because my friends were laughing at some of the crazy shit I said, the ‘unknowns’ (cool name, don’t you think?) seemed to get the correct notion that I wasn’t being serious.. which relaxed them.. which in turn relaxed me.. funny how that works.

Sometimes I speak out as soon as I think something. Sometimes I act on those thoughts. I wonder where all the thoughts that don’t turn into action go… Are they stored for later use, or do they dissipate into empty space, maybe picked up by someone else, somewhere else, and turned into action? Imagine it, a bunch of crazy thought waves racing by you all the time. Occasionally, in one of your more receptive states, one of these waves manages to penetrate your head, manifest itself as a thought, which turns into action..

And you’re stuck there going “where the fuck did that come from?”.

As said.. I talk a lot.. imagine then how much I think…

Moving On whilst Pushed and Pulled

I will make a promise I can’t keep: this blogg has for too long been dedicated to way too depressing subjects. Through recent events, I realize that dwelling will only add fuel to the fire, a fire that can’t wait to die out. Hopefully the glow of the fire will remind all included of how strong it once burnt, with such furious intensity, illuminating far beyond normal standards.

But for now, for my sake and yours, I need to get the fuck over it. Too much mind, heart, and soul has gone into fixing something that very obviously prefers to stay broken. I leave this section of my life (as said, a promise I can’t keep) with a poem. I hate poems. I hate the vagueness of poems. Say what you want instead of hiding behind fancy words and wavey thoughts. But.. I’m a hypocrite:

Pushed and pulled and torn and healed
Strong and weak as I stood and kneeled
Thrown and caught and tossed and turned
Loved and hated, brandished and burned

Thoughts and hardships fade away
With time and space and nights and days
A moment later, they return with force
As I’m pushed and pulled to final remorse

Strong and weak in the wake of dreams
Thrown and caught and ripped at the seams
Emotions changing like a Ferris wheel
As I’m pushed, pulled, torn and healed

As I’m pushed, pulled, torn and healed

As I’m pushed, pulled, torn and healed

Pushed.. pulled.. torn..

Healed.

Trains, Hurricanes, and Eddie's SuperAwesome Blogg

Before i start: for those of you who are not eddie and read this blogg (you are few and far in between (hey eddie)), you guys should go check out his little collection of writings. It’s strange when you’ve known someone for long while, and you didn’t even know where their creativity went… I remember not so long ago, in London, when people were surprised when I picked up the guitar and sang something.. Which was a shock on both accounts, them for not knowing, and me for not showing..

So yeah. Vilhelm.blogg.se. click on the link below. Send him a comment. Make him feel special. He is.

In other news, the train’s been stopping, starting, stopping… I realized that if the train moves too fast, if it’s in too much of a hurry, it’ll derail.. especially now in the beginning, there’s gonna be loads of turns and twists, before it finally finds a straight line. So far, I’ve been standing with the driver, screaming go go go, and I guess I stressed him out. I’ve been close to derailing a couple of times this week, so I need to slow down. Breathe. Hear the music through the fear.

And hurricanes will become breezes one day, sure, but they will just as surely turn back into the destructive force that people fear so much. I could probably live in the turmoil if I knew I was safe.. if I knew that as long as I didn’t fight it, it would toss and turn me without actually doing any real damage. Alas, that is not a knowledge I possess..

Still stuck with a pinky.
Still stuck with decisions.
My feet are on the train
And my soul is on a mission.

Love

Amputation Elation

I looked at my little finger yesterday. thought about it for a while.. "What has it ever given me?" It'd been hurting for ages. At first, I ignored it, like you do with most pains. Wait for it to subside. But strangely, it never did. I became more and more frustrated, not knowing what to do. And my finger wasn’t helping either, didn’t seem like it could understand how it could it hurt me.. I mean, jesus, it’s just a pinky.. could it really be that bad..

if it only knew..

Before I knew it, I woke up in desperation one day, convinced that amputation was the only way out. Everyone I consulted about this was saying the same thing: “this pain you’re in, constantly aware of your finger there… it’s no good. It’s not good for you to feel like this, you need closure, you need peace, you need your health back”. And I listened to them. I did it. Amputated my finger. Left was a stump. And a vague sense of relief that I couldn’t really place.

A week passed. My finger, still not there, started to be missed.. and I started thinking: “was it really that bad?? Could I have waited, should I have gone to see the doctor. Sure, it was turning blue, but should I have waited until it turned green and grey, until ALL hope had left? I've cut my losses and moved on, I have nine fingers left.. so why the fuck do I miss that finger so much??”. And I had no answer.

But it doesn’t stop there. the missing gets worse. the feeling of emptiness gets stronger. until I eventually go to the doctor to try and reattach my little finger, that’s been left in the freezer, on hold. The operation goes as best as it could, I get some feeling back, I can move it, the scar heals. But something’s wrong… it feels different. It knows it, I know it…

What’s the point? Amputation is drastic.. and should only be done if you can truly handle being without your finger for the rest of your life. I thought I did. Now I’m not too sure. And now I’m stuck with a semi-numb finger, a bucket of pain that’s related not to my finger, but to my loss of it.

again with the cyclicality

and just as my own love for love fades, something happens to bring back my faith. A love is flourishing uncontrollably, a love i have longed to happen for a long time. Needless to say, it brings back hope, a comforting and reassuring feeling that all is not lost, that love will prevail, and all the other quotes i was telling myself were complete bullshit just a few weeks ago.

cyclicality my friends.. it never ends.

i send a silent yet heartfelt congratulations to them.

Dilemma

Ahhh… the duality of emotions. The eternal fight between mind vs. heart, logic vs. feelings continues. To both want and not want something so bad, so good, that’s the stuff that gives you premature grey hairs. I wonder what’s going on inside my head, on a neurological level. Neurons flying all over the place, being in seemingly two positions at once. And even with their ultraspeed, they’re probably as confused as I am.

Love or forget?
Write or ignore?
Stay or leave?

It’s a bitch to have to choose… it’s worse if you want both…

The battle continues. Who will win? Mind or heart?

Stay tuned.

hopeful dread

Tomorrow is looming
a new day has passed
resolve to close my eyes and sleep this time
but my heart is beating too fast

Tomorrow is looming
a new hill to climb
one step closer to the peak though
and one step further than last night

Confused?

Tell me about it....

Choo Chooooooo

Train has departed

Wish me luck...

"All Aboard!!"

If everything is pointing in the right direction except me, do I have to change where I’m facing?

If I can truly see where the road leads, and I don’t like it, should I turn back? Could I turn back?

I’ve been pushed, literally, on a road I haven’t thought of for a long time. A road I never really wanted to take alone. For a while now, I’ve been stumbling, walking slowly, looking both at the ground and behind me. Making sure I’m not leaving anyone behind.. well, I’m looking behind me cuz I’m probably not ready to give that up.

Train stations. Let’s play with that analogy for a while. Life as a train, with loads of stops. But never backtracking. Never looking back. Some stations you pass, others you stop at for a while. Some forks in the tracks are just minor deviations; a choice of the scenic and quick route, or past a bunch of small villages or straight to the big city.

Other forks are more determinative. They’re almost T-junctions. Obviously, those choices become much harder. Sometimes you linger on at the station for ages, weighing the pros and cons, knowing that both trains will go fast, will go far, and the chances of finding your way back to that station, or meeting up with the diverging track, will decrease exponentially with every minute you’re on the train. Ultimately, the choice will be yours and yours alone. Which train? Which path? Could I ever return?

You could jump off the train at any time… that wouldn’t be the most advisable of actions however, since you’ll be stranded in the middle of nowhere, and you’d have to walk the track until a train is nice enough to slow down and letting you catch up. Get my point?

My point is, I’ve got one foot in the train, one outside, the conductor is hollering “ALL ABOARD”, blowing his whistle, the wheels are slowly turning, and I’m panicking. I know this train is heading in a good direction, but I also know I’ll most probably never see this station again.

So what the hell do I do?

"Love...

...isn’t enough,
To fuel the fire of us
Love could be a bluff
That we’re trying to trust

Love isn’t enough
To carry our weight
When good times turn tough
When it feels too late

Love isn’t sufficient
To solve what’s gone wrong
We need time and commitment
Before it’s gone too long"

An emblem burnt in skin and bone
A memory too ingrained to throw

A vision of a future that refuses to fade
While plans, decisions, and choices are made

Hurricanes....

...have the tendesy to evolve from a nice breeze in Hawaii though... And surely, no hurricane is ever eternal. They're cyclical (it's that damn cyclicality again). A hurricane slowly, slowly gathers up speed and strength, going unnoticed until the point when the outcome is inevitable, and unpreventable. By the time someone does notice it, it's only days before it hits you, too late to make any counteractive measures that could at least minimize the damage. Everyone just tells you to get the fuck out of there, you're gonna be ruined, you're gonna lose everything you have. But some stay. Some can't leave. They hang on for their dear lives, wash up in some deserted warehouse 4 miles from their house. Ride it out. Because they know hurricanes: Finite. Some say the day after is usually a pretty nice day - seen only from a weather point of view, obviously: the houses are ravaged, cars toppled over, trees lying everywhere. But the hurricane is back to being a warm summer breeze, one you welcome, close your eyes and inhale life to, smile to. The breeze you love. The experts have no clue... no offense, i know i'm not one to speak, since i don't even properly know how hurricanes start, but nobody knows what to do. They're working on a couple of prevention methods though, like cooling the water to lower the moisture level of the air, or flying through the hurricane to try and widen the eye (so to speak). Will it ever work? I hope so.. Can't stand hurricanes.... They break my heart.