Category Archives: Random thoughts


Why is it that I can’t stop thinking when I’m supposed to sleep?

It’s not even thinking I can organise. It’s more like an everlasting buzz of noise and feelings that won’t settle and leave me peaceful and ready for slumber.

If I only knew what would stop this brain activity!


The elusive cry

Sometimes, a good cry feels like just the right medicine.

You read, watch or listen to something that will certainly put you in the mood.

It’s starting to work it’s magic, you feel it in your chest, your throat, the pit of your stomach. Even the eyes are starting to moist over.

It’s there, you can feel it start!

And then it’s gone. Like someone turned a switch. It’s so frustrating, you just want to cry. But that’s just the point, isn’t it? You can’t! It escaped yet again, fizzled out into nothingness.

Is this how it feels when you’re not able to orgasm? I’m inclined to think so, but I’ve no first hand experience with elusive orgasms…

Rambling about words

I’m going to take you on a journey into my rather unedited notes. I’m sitting in a car, waiting for another car, and I have to pass the time.

The first part is direct taken from my notebook ( about ten handwritten pages), and then we’ll see about the rest.


The red headed beauty pivoted and looked into his emerald orbs.

‘Would you like a cup of coffee? ‘

He nodded and put his left leg over his right knee, as he put his chin in his hand and stared mesmerized at her hourglass figure.

Does this look familiar to anybody?

It’s not a secret that I read a lot. I read more or less everything, as long as it’s written in an alphabet I’m more or less able to decipher.

Eii saa peittää, shampoo ja hoitoaine, sukkerfrie flødebolsjer, sokeriton kermakaramelli, sockerfria gräddkarameller, caramelos de mantequilla y nata sin azúcar con edulcorantes…

In short, I love words and languages and what they are able to do. Words have power. Words are power. What kind of power? All kinds of power, both good and bad.

The words I want to write about today, are words I read a lot. In fanfiction. Sometimes they pop up in novels too, and then I’m starting to wonder if I’m reading a fanfiction turned novel, or if the author has been reading or writing fanfiction, or if it’s just a coincidence.

The opening “quote” is not a quote at all. It’s me trying to write in a fanfictionesque way.

Nothing gives me more pleasure (oh well, let’s pretend, at least) than reading great descriptions; descriptions about how people feel, how they behave, how a scenery is, the whole shebang. And yet, these brilliant little pieces of writings are few and far between.

There is one fanfiction I’ve read and, to a certain degree, re-read, because of the brilliant insight and description of the main character. The story is well written, and by far the longest I’ve ever read. Last I checked, it was about 1,2 million words. Massive! The main issue I have with this story is that is a tad repetitive, and it feels like a lack of forward thrust, if I can call it that. I would never comment on this story, just because my comments may throw a spanner in the works of this giant machinery. The writer has, in my opinion, insight in every aspect she (I assume it’s a she. I can’t remember the username on top of my head, but the whole story screams “female”. If it’s a male, I’m gobsmacked) writes about. Were this to be published, lots and lots of words and passages would be edited out because they’re unnecessary for the story as a whole. I don’t think I would ever be able to write something like that.

I’ve written and completed one fanfiction. Some like it, some hate it, but hardly anybody has read it.

English is my second language, and I’m not as proficient as I would like. Not being native in a language means that those little nuances go amiss, and I might use cliches that would make an Englishman gag, or I might try to be funny and translate some of my native idioms into English, just for kicks. They may work, they may go down like a lead balloon in a tea cosy. This also means that I might really enjoy something that looks absolutely bizarre to an English native.

I saw somewhere on YouTube that especially the German words Flusspferd and Nashörner were made fun of by English speakers. Literally, they translate to river horse and nose horn. Which is hippopotamus and rhinoceros, shortened hippo and rhino. With a bit more education, those people laughing would know that they usually call these animals “horse” and “nose”. Yeah. Hippo is Greek for horse potamus [is derived from potamos, meaning river, “horse of the river”] Rhinoceros is also Greek and means nose-horned. Funny, yeah? That’s how humans build language. That’s why every foreigner is more prone to swear in their second (and third and fourth and so on) language than in their mother tongue.

I know that fuck and cunt are almost as bad as it gets. And wanker too. I wouldn’t bat an eyelid saying them. Repeatedly. My brain knows the severity of these swear words, but my heart doesn’t feel it. Shit is another marvellous word. In my native language, it would not qualify as a swear word, was it not for English influence. I use this frequently if things don’t go according to plan. If I want to swear, but don’t sound so harsh, I use foreign words. Although, Scheiße is in my personal opinion a harder word than shit. Go figure.

Everybody thinks their native swearing is the most powerful. I think that’s because our first language is actually defining who we are. It gives us our identity. And apropos identity; we are so closely related to our own language that it should be punishable by law to deny people to speak and learn their own language.

I’ve always had my own language, but due to unfortunate choices made by others, I lack a suitable vocabulary for things in the pants department. Not because of the things these words describe, but because the words I got as a very small child, was words nobody else but my closest of family would use. In the real world, as a three-year old, I realised I had no words for anything but peeing. Imagine my relief when I discovered words like penis, anus, rectum and vulva. It’s a very peculiar thing to feel ashamed of the words themselves and not the objects.

I heard some time ago, that employees are prohibited from speaking any other language than English in certain areas in England. This might be wrong. I’ve heard in my own country that people want to prohibit speaking other languages during lunch break. How is that going to make anything good?

If you take my language, and say I’m just to speak English from here on, I would be devastated. Not because I wouldn’t be able to do it, but because you are not letting me be who I am, all of me. The same goes for thoughts, sexual preferences, religion, everything that makes up a person’s mind.

When Snow White and Charming wanted to get rid of Emma’s magic in Once Upon a Time, I felt like I was watching these parents who say “Oh, I love you, but just don’t love the gay in you!”

Fuck you!! (Look, I used it. It’s the best words for these situations, although not by far the worst in my personal vocabulary)


So, there you have my unedited thoughts, directly from the notebook. I see why I need to edit my texts, because one thought takes the next, and then they wander off in a direction I didn’t think of in the first place.

At second read-through, I’m also questioning my language, and this is the part where I check every potentially odd sentence that would not pass for English syntax.

This is all for now. The car is on the road, and it’s here before long.

I don’t like baby showers

I haven’t been to more than one, but they give me a bad feeling. That particular pregnancy went almost as bad as it’s possible, with one twin dead and the other severely handicapped. I just want to cry or scream thinking about it.

I don’t like premature celebration. Why not celebrate when the bub is born and everything is all right, if not a little chaotic?

But, if the mother wants it, I’m not going to rain on her parade. I’m just not comfortable.

I can’t be the only one feeling like this. Tell me I’m not!

New name, same shit?

I’m not sure I’m even allowed to think these thoughts, as I’m not affected at all. At least not to date (and probably for a lot longer).

Is it really better to call someone a bonusfather or bonusmother, than stepfather and stepmother? Isn’t this just a new wrapping, and a way to make “bonus” just as negative a word as “step”?

I’m starting to think I actually like “step” better, just because it’s not in any way presenting itself as something it isn’t.

On the need to write

Is it normal to have such a desire to say something, to write something, just anything that means something for someone, that it feels like the only thing that matters?

My brain is brimming, and sometimes it spills over. I love to teach one to one, when my expertise is needed. I would like to do the same through text.

I think I might be able to.

Or is it just hubris?

Blogging musings

I must say, this blog is interesting.

Although site views aren’t exactly sky high, they are possible to measure. Unlike when I don’t blog for nearly a year. That’s when WordPress tries to be nice to me and makes the scale go 0.0 – 0.3 – 0.7. 1 is too much to ask for.

Anyway, these days, I have visitors almost every day, and I’m really chuffed.

What I find so interesting is that the less effort I put into a post, the more views it gets. In May, the photo series of a popcorn popping session got the most views. I’m baffled.

I think overall, the post that used to show Robbie Coltrane walking the seawall in Supergrass is the most visited. Unfortunately, the YouTube clip is no longer available, and I suspect the visitors are sorely disappointed.

But the things I actually put a bit of active thought behind, and ponder for a while, those are obviously not interesting at all. But popcorn. I’m still not over it.

Love all my readers and subscribers. You actually make blogging fun 🙂

Annoying traits

  • Being inconsiderate of others
  • Believing yourself to be better than others
  • Glorifying special sides of yourself
  • Allowing yourself to be late or not show up at all because you’re (or you’ve got): introverted, ADHD, aspergers, shy, social anxiety, depression,
  • You’re not like other girls
  • You’re extroverted
  • You’re introverted
  • You’re a social leech
  • You’re an energy vampire
  • You can smalltalk or you can’t smalltalk
  • You’re religious, an atheist or agnostic
  • You’re a scientist or you’re alternative
  • You’re smart or you’re dumb, or even average

Man, the list is endless, and we are all at times highly annoying. I haven’t even scratched the surface with these bullet points.

I’m going to introduce you all to a little Scandinavian law. I’ve suspected for quite some time now that this is more universal than Scandinavian, although Scandinavians seem to think it’s more prevalent in their own country or their own society than anywhere else. And that the world beyond the Scandinavian (maybe Nordic) borders are free of it. Is “Scandi-think” a thing? If not, I think it should be.

Every Scandinavian, say the name of the law with me now!

The Law of Jante

Yes, that’s the law. Ten rules, with an additional eleventh. It’s part of the novel A Fugitive Crosses His Tracks by Aksel Sandemose.

These are the ten initial rules :

  1. You’re not to think you are anything special.
  2. You’re not to think you are as good as we are.
  3. You’re not to think you are smarter than we are.
  4. You’re not to imagine yourself better than we are.
  5. You’re not to think you know more than we do.
  6. You’re not to think you are more important than we are.
  7. You’re not to think you are good at anything.
  8. You’re not to laugh at us.
  9. You’re not to think anyone cares about you.
  10. You’re not to think you can teach us anything.
  11. Perhaps you don’t think we know a few things about you?

The eleventh rule is “the penal code of Jante”.

There you go. A part of Scandinavian literature, so deeply recognised that the people have adopted it and made it their own, and not in a positive way. I would be so bold as to say that these rules are universal and quite human. It’s just that the rest of the world haven’t seen the rules before and haven’t got a name for it. It’s just general annoyance with people who stick out one way or another.

Humans, and in particular humans in packs, are vicious creatures, and feeling alone, or in great minority, against an attacking crowd is not in any way or form comfortable.

It’s no secret that I often feel out of touch with society at large. I find my own group of people that makes me feel good about the world and myself. That’s something I’ve learned along the way. I know I annoy quite a lot of people, and I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, but I don’t think that’s just me.

Oh well.

Maybe I should actually read A Fugitive Crosses His Tracks, and not only the law within…

When I see how utterly terrible human beings are to each other, animals and the world at large, I really understand why I as a teenager loudly proclaimed that the world would be a better place if Homo sapiens went extinct.

These days, I leave out the last bit, just because the will to live is too great. But I still think we’re the most dangerous species on earth, and that our stupidity and arrogance will be the end of us.

I’m surprisingly efficient at talking myself out of situations where I should have done something more than just talk.

I think it would be better for my character if I wasn’t that good.

On the other hand, as long as I know this, and think about it, maybe I’m able to do something about it.

Always room for improvement.

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