Thursday, 28 July 2016


Jag stirrar på mina fötter och kan inte minnas varför jag har strumpor på mig. De känns bara som ett konstigt, onödigt skal som interfererar med min kontakt med marken. Jag spenderar en underbar dag i trevligt sällskap. Prioriterar långa samtal om kvällarna framför tillräckligt mycket sömn. Förundras över att jag lyckats gå till jobbet varje dag i snart tre veckor utan att bryta ihop av ångest en enda gång. Går till optikern för synundersökning, och får konstaterat att min syn har förbättrats sedan senast. Jag visste inte att det kunde hända. Men allting i livet går väl inte utför, som optikern sa.

Jag minns fina stunder. Pannkakor och äventyr. Längtar tillbaka, och till framtiden. Det kommer hända så många coola saker. Eller så kommer allting explodera. Antingen på ett ögonblick, eller så långsamt att en inte ens hinner reagera. Men jag skall träffa fina människor. Jag skall se Garmarna vars nya skiva jag nästan lyssnat sönder. Har inte hört en platta jag fallit för så fort och fullständigt sedan Sigur Rós släppte Kveikur. Jag skall se Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Jag skall skriva en jävla massa och jag skall jobba så fucking hårt och fokuserat att jag lyckas avsluta saker. 

Försöker stanna upp i nuet. Se mig omkring, vara glad över fotsulorna mot marken, över vatten mot pannan, över katter som jamar lyckligt när jag kommer hem. Försöker att inte mäta minuterna som rinner förbi alltför noggrant. Försöker vara en hygglig person trots att jag har känslor. Försöker att inte kapitulera inför omvärldens idioti. Försöker tillåta mig själv att hoppas trots att det gör lika ont varje gång jag blir besviken. Hur skall jag annars lyckas leva som om jag vore en bra människa?

Alla steg du tar skall jag vandra
Alla andetag skall jag andas
Vi lever på lånad tid
Så vi får aldrig stanna
Spränger alla gränser
Vi skall flyga aldrig landa

Kärlek och tankar,

Tuesday, 26 July 2016

Review: Gender Trouble

Gender Trouble Gender Trouble by Judith Butler
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Although somewhat impenetrable to a person with no background in either philosophy or social sciences, this was a very interesting read. I'm not sure what to think of the psychoanalytic argumentations, but the discussion about the concept of biological sex as a social construction I found especially intriguing. Not to mention the allusions to the power of language.

“Concepts, categories, and abstractions, [Monique Wittig] argues, can effect a physical and material violence against the bodies they claim to organize and interpret: "There is nothing abstract about the power that sciences and theories have to act materially and actually upon our bodies and minds, even if the discourse that produces it is abstract. It is one of the forms of domination, its very expression, as Marx said. I would say, rather, one of its exercises. All of the oppressed know this power and have had to deal with it." The power of language to work on bodies is both the cause of sexual oppression and the way beyond that oppression. Language works neither magically nor inexorably: "there is a plasticity of the real to language: language has a plastic action upon the real." Language assumes and alters its power to act upon the real through locutionary acts, which, repeated, become entrenched practices and, ultimately, institutions. The asymmetrical structure of language that identifies the subject who speaks for and as the universal with the male and identifies the female speaker as "particular" and "interested" is in no sense intrinsic to particular languages or to language itself. These asymmetrical positions cannot be understood to follow from the "nature" of men or women, for, as Beauvoir established, no such "nature" exists: "One must understand that men are not born with a faculty for the universal and that women are not reduced at birth to the particular. The universal has been, and is continually, at every moment, appropriated by men. It does not happen, it must be done. It is an act, a criminal act, perpetrated by one class against another. It is an act carried out at the level of concepts, philosophy, politics."”

Thought-provoking, to say the least! Queer feminism is some powerful shit.

View all my reviews

Thursday, 21 July 2016

Writing every day

To rid yourself of old patterns, focus all your energy not on struggling with the old, but on building the new.
— Dan Millman (Way of the Peaceful Warrior)

Good advice concerning any habit. Not doing things is way harder than doing other things instead. Right now I'm building the habit of keeping a daily diary. It's liberating and rewarding, being able to look back on your thoughts. I learn things about myself, and as a bonus become a better writer. I know all too well how difficult it is to get started—I've been trying for years to make this writing thing become more of a natural part of my life. But once you've established the habit you will find that it will feel strange, possibly even painful, to refrain from engaging in it. So after a while you will hardly even think about it any longer; it will just be another natural thing to do, much like eating or sleeping. I've found that what works for me is to carry a notebook with me at all times. That way I can write whenever inspiration strikes, and it becomes easier to make time for it. 

Just go ahead, if you've been meaning to do it. Stop making up excuses, just get a notepad and write. A word, a sentence, or a page. Even if it is just nonsense in the beginning, I promise that it will do you good in the long run. Try it out every day for a week, and then keep going if you like it. Then at least you can say that you have tried.

Love and writing,

Friday, 15 July 2016

I was a fallen angel

A week ago I was a fallen angel. It was awesome, being part of a legion propagating chaos throughout a world of elves, orcs, dragons, swords, bards and magic. And goodness knows what else. An epic love-story was in it for me, as well, now captured into a song. There were issues, sure, but to expect anything else at Sweden's biggest LARP with 600 participants would have been kind of naïve. It was the first time I went to a LARP together with a group, and they were so great. I have seldom felt so included.

Alpheratz, an angel who fell for love.

I learned a lot, too. Unfortunately all my real-world problems can't be solved through blood-sacrifice, but I got some ideas for survival strategies in a world where my very existence is cause enough for some people to want to have me eliminated. Reality already chafes, and I find myself longing back to the woods. Time to spread some well-needed chaos.

Love and chaos,

Tuesday, 12 July 2016

Midnight sun and snowy peaks

What is this? Work. A sun that sets at night. A soft bed, hot bath-water, no miles to go before sleep. Reality? I don't know. The mountains were real, and as always they made me feel so very much alive. I suppose it is good to be home, still I am torn by a fierce longing back to that place of timelessness. Where the sun never set, and where my feet would carry me through ever-changing valleys, with rivers running through them and snow-clad peaks standing guard on either side. Those mountains, that even when tired, wet and bruised always make it worth every excruciating step with their dazzling beauty. Even when I stand there on a barely snow-covered skree-slope with hundreds of metres to tumble to my death at the slightest misstep (or so my mind would make it out), with vertigo gnawing at my insides and on the brink of exhaustion, I happily curse their very existence:

Damn it, Nature! You're too gorgeous for your own damn good!

The last magnificent view on the way to the top, before the clouds rolled in.
Or my own good, rather. But I survived to tell this tale also, and to long for more adventures of hardship and tranquility. That's the third time I've scaled Sweden's highest mountain, and still I've had nothing but clouds for it. I guess that bastard of a mountain is just asking for me to come back to it. But never mind that, because the journey there was beautiful, and that is what really matters.

Waking up to a sight like this. I would never tire of it.

Love and mountains,