Archive for October, 2015

New mantra

Sunday, October 25th, 2015

I am in the ever-lasting process of trying to get into a better shape and lately I’ve been lacking motivation. I was supposed to lose a lot more weight this month and I was supposed to get a ton more exercise done. ‘There’s still a week left’, you say ‘of October, so you’re not entirely fucked’.

Not entirely, no, but I feel bad about myself, because I haven’t met my goals. This will mean, quite possibly, not meeting my bigger, long term goals and then I’m gonna hate myself even more.

But I read an article written by one of my heroes, Wil Wheaton. He’s only a couple of years older than I am and also suffers from somewhat crippling mental illness. The article deals with a lot of things I’ve lately fought with and you all should go read it. It got me motivated and from now on, I will work towards my goals and tell myself this:

I deserve to be happy. I deserve to feel good about myself. I can do the work that I need to do to accomplish these things.

I will succeed.


Monday, October 19th, 2015

Wow, another year has gone by. I’m now 37.

What I love about my birthday is that I share it with a special person. Somewhere around 12, maybe 13 years ago when I was just starting my career as a serendipitous blogger of all things nonsense, way back in the days of Ghostranch Hills I believe, or maybe even Motorcycle Emptiness 1.0, I happened to blog jump from I don’t even remember whose blog to a blog that was updated rather more frequently than mine. I started to read it, every day and finally I dared to comment on some of the posts. And he started to visit my blog of nonsense and comment there.

And a while later I found out that the blogger was born on the same day as me, only three years earlier. I was blown away, because nobody ever had the same birthday as me. Except this guy. And that I accidentally happened to bump into him in the vastness that was the internet. These were the days before social media, the happier times where everyone owned a domain and had a blog.

We became friends, staying up in ridiculous hours talking rubbish and not-so-rubbish over Messenger (yes it truly was a different time). Sharing the most important and secret things about our lives, sometimes crying, but usually laughing so hard I’m surprised neither of us literally burst. There were times I felt so alone in the world, but then, at two-thirteen-am there was a tiny ‘bling’ that told me my friend had come online and life seemed a little less exhausting.

And so here we are, about 13 years (who’s counting anyway) later, me and him are SHOUTING WITH CAPITALS TO EACHOTHER on Facebook at this time of the year (and sometimes other times too), waging gif wars and being dorky. Because we’re twinsies, fangirls, crackheads. We have the October 18th syndrome, it just makes us like this.

You make my life a better life to live.
I hope we’ll be shouting at eachother on our 105th (and 108th) birthday.
I love you.

Instead of writing…

Monday, October 12th, 2015

I haven’t been able to write just about anything since February. I think I’m being too critical of myself and thus have a writer’s block. Honestly, I should just write and not care what shit comes of it. Shitty writing leads inevitably to good writing, in most cases. In some cases it doesn’t (looking at you e.l. james).

For the past few days I’ve been on Pinterest looking for writing prompts, as if I didn’t have enough on my plate as it is. Exhibit A, my writing notebook:

I’m slowly starting to come to terms with the fact that I need to scribble down more plans before I just start typing. Otherwise I end up having to do what I’ve had to do for Rainne & Daryl; on page 36 I realised I needed to start over because I hadn’t thought all of it through. To have two universes, you have to be quite sure on how existing in both can be arranged, otherwise you’re in trouble. I still haven’t fully figured that out and that’s mainly the reason why that one’s on hold.

Instead I have this plotbunny jumping around in my head. It’s persistent, even tho I have tried to shoot it down. It would be my first time writing about an actual existing character. But it’s a character that has been properly described and I think I could manage writing him.

We’ll see.


Friday, October 2nd, 2015

When me and my sister were kids, we used to do pretty much everything together, even tho she is four years my senior. We played a lot of games together, table tops and playing cards. Played with barbies and Ponies. Spent hours outside riding sleighs during the winter and building snow castles and snow horses. During summers there was a bunch of us kids playing all kinds of games like baseball.

And one time, late-ish in the evening on one frost-bitten August night, us two and a pair of equally geeky sisters from the neighbourhood, we came up with the idea of making a horror film.

It all came to us the first time when we were pretending that the potato field in our yard was a swamp, where disgusting things grew. It looked so creepy in the moonlight, with the mist floating over it. It wasn’t something we really thought much, it just came to us, since my dad had just bought a video camera, a luxury at that time, so we were kitted when it came to equipment.

The two sisters knew how to turn their eyelids inside out and they taught me to do that. We were supposed to be aliens that came from the mist on the potato field and killed everyone in some horrible alien way. Maybe turn them into likes of us, evil aliens with scary looking eyes, creeping across villages and towns as a slow moving army, wreacking havoc. We even made up a name for the film, Kuutamon 13 askelta, 13 Steps of the Moonlight. Doesn’t it sound ominous?

It never went any further than those one or two nights, we never even actually got the camera out to shoot anything. I think my sister may still have a bit of the script hidden somewhere, who knows. I guess it was just nice to scare ourselves thinking about evil aliens.

And sometimes even now, twenty-odd years later, when I see a potato field bathing in the moonlight, my mind plays tricks and I swear there’s someone. Eyelids turned. Slowly moving towards me.

Taking 13 steps.