Spirits of the golden cave haunts you to the eternal death. Longing for the mystery of the soul of one’s heart. You knew it was a misleading route to a dark destiny, but you faced the challenge in a desire to escape. The future held a rhythmic sense of shadows on the falling earth. Swept away with the lustful song of humming tunes. You felt it so strong you could breathe with fire. Fire of tomorrow’s lonesome strength of hope. But they promised you relief, the relief beyond any human capability of understanding. A miracle. You wanted it, you needed it, you got it; clinging to it in your mere hands. They filled you with such forgiveness you held no grudges in their presence. Forgotten were the false smiles and the tears of no emotions. The blue scars of yesterday would heal with the trust you had seeked all your life. They gave you that. Oh they loved you for that. The security of their embrace would bring you to this level of love for them. It didn’t matter if it was real. It didn’t matter if it was an illusion you created in your own mind of seclusion. You had them. You have them. You would die with them. Nothing else matters.
Foolish Games
Took a trip down memory lane and found this. I’ve always loved this song and used to sing along. Whatever happened to Jewel?
No words
I’ve tried to start writing again for quite some time. It doesn’t work. I don’t know when I stopped, I guess it just happened. I guess I haven’t been truly heartbroken for some time and as we all know, I’m only creative when I’m down. Isn’t just fucking convinient?
I’ve lately found Lana Del Rey to be pretty inspirational. Her music stands out and isn’t typical mainstream music teenagers cling to these days, yet still make it to the hit lists. I’m not a big fan of her music, but the fact that she sticks out of the crowd makes me interested. She also has so many other talents it seems and is still so young.
This makes me go back to my everlasting midlife crisis. Yes, yes, I realize I’m only 26, but c’mon, what great things have I done in my life? Not a lot.
What’s happened lately? I didn’t make it to the top list of the writing contest as I aimed so hard for. I know, I know. Acting as a diva about it is stupid, I knew I had no chance of winning. But it’s the best thing I’ve ever wriitten, and when it doesn’t even make it on the list; what does that say about my skills? Yes, it’ easy to say it was just a competition, it’s not the end of the world, there will be new options and opportunities. Yes, it will, I’m aware it will. I know I’m being silly and dumb about it. But…
…I’m just so disappointed in myself.
Like this:
A star can never die…
I have for a while now wanted to blog about Whitney Houston. But as it always turns out to be; it’s hard to put such a loss into words.
I’d be lying if I said I was a big fan of her. However, learning about the passing of her, a lady I had admired for as long as I can remember… It came as a shock. I may not be a huge fan, but I grew up with her music. I grew up with The Bodyguard. I grew up singing along to I Will Always Love You. I grew up wishing I could sing like her because even though I was a part of a children’s choir during my childhood, I knew I had no such talent as she had. I remember I was always amazed by her smile; I swore it sparkled and I still think it did. Her smile always came from the heart; it was so genuine. Just as genuine as her singing. You truly believed in every word she sang.
Losing yet another big star on our entertainment sky, has put life into perspective once more. It’s funny; every time an unexpected death occures, we all say and acknowledges how precious and fragile life can be. Then, after a week or so, we continue the way we always do. Proceed with our own lives; forget about what we once said when the haze of clouds lay above us.
Tomorrow it can be all over.
After Michael Jackson passed away, my focus in life has changed. I used to be all caught up in whatever float my way; I wasted my time doing nothing. While people my age got married, had kids, pushed forward with their careers, bought their own home, moved far away… Heck, they lived their lives! I didn’t.
If you’ve followed my blog for a while, you know I’ve changed. My focus is now completely on what I want in life, and I do something about it.
I won’t ever be a superstar like Whitney, but you can be. You only live once and you’ve all been given a gift, a talent, a chance to be whatever you want. If you want to go out in the outer space you can. If you want to be a singer you can. If you want to be a stay-at-home mom you can.
Whitney was loved by many, but also judged. Her rough life have made many turn against her. On her last tour, many judged her left and right from her singing voice down to the color of her nail polish. She visited my town in Norway. A friend of mine left the show midway through, she reckoned Whitney’s performance was so bad she couldn’t stand listening or watching her. I was embarrassed. I had originally intended to go with some other friends of mine, but destiny had it I couldn’t make it.
I’ve always said “Even if the show is below what you expected from the artist, you never leave before it’s over. Not only is it disrespectful, but it’s rude and uncalled for.” My other friends enjoyed it, they cheered her on, and they hadn’t even noticed that several people left. I hope Whitney didn’t either.
As a child/young teenager; I always sang along to her My Love Is Your Love. I remember I thought she was truly gorgeous and so cool. I remember I sang along to her duet with Mariah Carey When You Believe. I reckoned it was one of the most beautiful songs I’d ever heard. I still think so. All the girls in my class wanted to sing the duet when school finished with a celebration that year. Of course, none of the girls in my class could sing like Whitney or Mariah, but they didn’t care about that, nor should they.
I’d be lying if I said I was a big fan of Whitney. But she was a part of my childhood. She holds a place in my heart and always will. She was a rolemodel. She is a rolemodel. She will be a rolemodel.
And I will always love you, Whitney.
“A star can never die. It just turns into a smile and melts back into the cosmic music, the dance of life.” ― Michael Jackson, Dancing the Dream
Long time no see!
It sure has been a while since I last updated my blog. I apologize. It’s funny how it’s easy to follow up your New Year Resolutions right after new years, but then… No.
Anyway, I will try to update soon with a longer post. In the meantime I just wanted to say I’ve updated my bucket list. If any of you can help me get the different things done, I’d be very happy. Not that I’m about to die, but then again, you never know, do you?
Thanks!
Hello, 2012!
Goodbye, 2011!
So, as bittersweet as it is for me to see 2011 being about to take it’s last breath in a matter of hours; I decided that it was time to pick up my blogging again. As memorable year like 2011 has been to me… I can only hope this is only the beginning of what’s to come in 2012. But what I wish for 2012 to have in store for me will be shared in a different blog post on a later occasion.
2011 had it all. The biggest of downs and the biggest of heights. It’s funny to think back on everything; how I have changed and my outlook on life as well as what I need in life. I’ve come to realize I only need to be happy and live my own life to be completely satisfied with how things are. Last year I thought I needed a man, to marry him, settle down and have kids. I wanted that so much, I still do, but not to that extent. I’ve fallen in love this year, and I’ve fallen out of love. And guess what? I’ve never been happier as single.
One of my biggest dreams were fullfilled this year. If not THE dream. I sound like such a psychotic lunatic when talking about LA and how much I miss it, how I cry just thinking about it at times. I’m aware of all that. But goddammit, it has changed me so much.
I got to pay my respect to Michael Jackson by visiting his final resting place this year, on September 3. God knows how much I miss you, Michael. I hope to return this coming year and do it more properly, hopefully not so shy as I was with so many fans surrounding me next time. I’m one to always draw attention, but I’m never one to handle it. Being in a wheelchair and say you come all the way from Norway probably had it’s unintentional effect, but I was there nonetheless and I got to put flowers by the door as I wanted to. Next time I’ll stay longer and absorb the peace Forest Lawn is blessed with. It’s truly beautiful there.
This year also blessed me with plenty of new friendships. One of them being What Is Forty Two. If I hadn’t got sick in June/July, this blog wouldn’t have come to see the light, I’d probably never meet her and I’d never find the guts to follow my dreams. Thanks to her, I dared to enter my first real writing competition in November and I am actually not afraid anymore of the possible outcome. I no longer feel I have to win because I’ve won all the other competitions I’ve participated in. What happens, happens.
In 2011 I got tattooed at Kat Von D‘s High Voltage. My 3rd and so far last tattoo, but more to come. It was an amazing experience and I instantly crushed on the guy who inked his needle into me, Khoi. Anyone who would like to get a quick and easy tattoo should definitely pop in and see if they got a few minutes free for you. I did. I also gotta add how extremely nice they are. Very friendly and helpful. Although Adrienne admittedly had no clue as to how to spell “ankle”… Haha!
2011 has too much to tell and so many memories; I simply can’t mention them all. The important thing is; it was the best year ever. I will never ever forget this and everything it gave me. Hell, I was even randomly approached on the street asking if I wanted to attend a fundraiser party held by Muhammed Ali‘s daughter. As much as I was honored, I was unable to attend and had to decline, but it was very fun to be asked nonetheless.
The year of 2012 will be good. I know even more now what I want to do with my life and what I need, and I will push to get there. In a matter of a few years, I hope one of my plans have worked out and me and my friend will be sitting on the balcony of our beach house in LA watching the fireworks on New Year’s Eve. Far fetched, you say? Maybe. But nothing has been accomplished without the passion of dreams.
Up until then I need to earn some money and in order to earn money I need to get my writing flowing. I have many ideas as to how to make this happen; we’ll see how it all pans out.
Last but certainly not least; thank you for reading my blog and especially those of you who comment, subscribe, and give me feedback. You make me want to continue blogging. Although I haven’t really blogged in forever and a half, I will try to blog more often in 2012. I owe it to my 22 subscribers!
Happy New Year, everyone! Cheers for a good life!
Hello? Is it me you’re looking for?
No, this is not a Lionel Richie song. However, I haven’t blogged in forever and I think I owe it to my readers. Where have I been? Good question. I’ve been around doing nothing interesting, really. I’ve been pretty lost for words and the ability to form a sentence into a blog setting or even general writing seems to be long gone. I do try to change that now though and I think I can succeed it, if I push myself.
I’ve realized that much of this blog is about my dreams, my writing, and America. My three passions in life. That doesn’t mean I have no other interests though, but this is what has been on my mind the most.
When I blogged in August about how I knew my trip to America would change my life and outlook on life forever, I knew I was right. To which extent I knew I was right is a whole other story, but I do feel it turned out to be true in a much larger scale than I foresaw before I put my foot on the plane over there.
You might wonder what I mean with that.
I do too.
But to say I have changed since my return would be a truthful statement. Now I know for sure what I want in my life. I want to write. I want to publish my work. No, wait. I don’t want to. I need to. I need to prove to myself I’m actually good at something. I’ve spent all my life sitting on the fence wondering what this very day would bring and hoping something great would happen in the future. To sit on the fence doesn’t make you a good writer. To sit on the fence doesn’t get you anywhere. But to sit on the fence makes it easy to just slip backwards if what you attempt to do feels like it’s about to fail. It’s easier and more decent to say you quit than admit you weren’t good enough at what you were trying to do at that very moment. It’s easier to become a quitter than push limits only to realize you’re not good enough.
See what I’m saying?
I’ve come to realize this is not me. Not the real me, may I add. I’ve never been one to give up something I’m passionate about, so why has it taken me so long to finally understand what I need to do? My guess would be fear. I’m terrified of failing and not live up to not only my friends and already existing readers’ expectations, but my own as well.
Now, however, I’m about to submit to a short story competition for the first time ever. It’s not even a local one, a Norwegian one, or an European one. It’s freakin’ international, based in America. A competition which seek writers around the world; and I know the level is sky high.
Do I expect to win?
The answer to that question changes by the hour. One minute I’m confident this is a winner candidate, but the next I feel doubt embrace me and I know I’d be damn lucky if they even consider my story half decent.
Right now I have another idea for a short story in my head which would have better chances of winning. Deep inside my heart, I know this story I’m about to submit doesn’t have a chance of winning. It touches upon a subject which is not experienced by many, and I’m certain it’s not good enough written. The readers who don’t know me personalky will probably have a problem understandung what I’m trying to bring forth into the spotlight and only see the obvious, not the depth of the story, only the tops. I always write deep stories and poetry. Not many gets my writing, much like Kurt Cobain and Michael Jackson who constantly got their lyrics twisted and misinterpreted. My strength is my poetic side of my writing; anything I write has a beauty to it that I aim hard to use to catch the readers’ attention. So far, I’ve succeeded pretty well. The question is if it’ll succeed when it comes to the professionals who’ll judge these stories.
America changed me. Not just a little, but a lot. I’ve seen what life is and what it can be. I have seen that dresms can come true if you just work for them. An ounce of luck and good timing is a bonus and perhaps necessary too, but in general; everything can be reached if you want it enough and work for it. I know I got what it takes. I may not win this contest, but at least I tried. If I don’t, I pushed it at the wring time and in the wrong setting. This story will be published somehow either way, it has to, because it’s – truth to be told – in reality, a story of letting go of my old self and embrace the new me.
To end this long ass, boring blog entry… Do I expect to win?
I’d not fill my own shoes as a perfectionsit if I didn’t. I tell everyone I participate for the fun of it. The truth is (oh boy, why did I make this into a fucking honesty hour?) I don’t do this for fun at all. It’s not fun. I’m competetive as hell and I don’t participate in competitions without the goal and mission to win. I’m here to win.
But will I have a mental breakdown if I fail and don’t even get on the top 25 list?
No. I’ll just realize once and for all not everyone can read my stuff and get it. I write for a small group of fucked up people. People, in general, don’t get this group of people. I know because I’m one of them.
[sarcasm] Interestingly enough; so are all creative geniuses. [/sarcasm]
Like this:
I quit
So, I haven’t blogged in ages it feels. It’s not just a feeling either; I haven’t. Why, you may ask. I’m asking myself that question too. I think my creativity, my passion for writing came to an abrupt halt. I quit. I quit writing anything that could be considered as a part of a serious mission, a goal. I quit writing my novel.
This sounds perhaps overly dramatic. “Hey, c’mon, it’s just a random writer’s block! You’ll get over it!” I know that, but in all my weirdness, I know I can’t write when I’ve lost my passion for it. My novel killed it. It’s a brutal statement, but it’s true one nonetheless. I wish I could say it wasn’t, but it is. And admitting failure like this is the dumbest I know. I’m not someone who fails. I usually quit before I admit to failure.
Writing a novel is just not something I’m capable of doing now. It’s just not me. I’ve never wanted to write one until my friends and readers managed to persuade me into trying to write one. It was fun. I liked it, but I didn’t love it. It didn’t match my expectations and hopes for myself and my ideas. Ever since I was 10, I’ve envisioned how my first book will be like. And it is very different from a novel.
I’m now going back to my original plan. The first draft of my book is still resting nicely, saved on my harddisk of my laptop. One day I’ll might pick it up again, I’m positive I will as I’m still passionate about the subject of the book. But until then I’m ready to embrace my old intention of an idea. I’ve never doubted this idea, not ever like I did with my novel at least, and I have a good feeling about it.
I have a good feeling about it.
A blog post a day, makes your sanity…stay?
Image via Wikipedia
No, not really.
I joined the Post A Day 2011 Challenge only a few days ago and I already regret it. I see many things I could blog about, but I feel empty for words. I’ve hit an all time low when it comes to my writing and it’s bugging (excuse me) the shit out of me. I’m in a deep hole of darkness in regards to my writing and I’m burrying myself in negative thoughts.
Maybe I’ll be better tomorrow. Maybe not. Ugh.
