| Eye of the third Brillouin zone monster. |
[Dec. 10th, 2006|08:46 am] |
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Yep. Hey there world. I feel like interacting. I have come to the conclusion tonight, that I need to find a nice story to give as a gift to someone this christmas. Or I need to WRITE a story for them, but this is risky. Anyhow, there's a need for christmas shopping which is becoming rather pressing at the moment. But then there's also the exams, which are going rather well this year despite numerous social engagements that have kept me maybe a little too busy. I have somehow managed to gather around me some people this semester, and this feels nice. And then there's the boy who brings out these childlike, happy sensations in me. When you add on to that this strange and caring feeling of just wanting to hold him - well, it's weird and somewhat worrying. Although he cares for me in ways that people very seldom do, I know he does somehow not care enough. And this HURTS. But what the fuck, at least I'm fucking. And soon there's the holidays raining down upon us. I need to find this story though, this little gift, and I need to study. It's almost too much, and still too little. Mm. |
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| Kitty-cat dreams and experimental physics. |
[Nov. 14th, 2006|06:03 pm] |
Yep. A strange man moved into my house this weekend; a rather small, Danish psychology student who made me dinner last night. *grins* He’s really nice, and already I’ve talked more with him than I did with my previous roommate, whom I lived with for almost a year and a half. The strange thing though, is that lately I’ve had so many very intimate conversations with people. I don’t know if it’s me who encourages this somehow, or if it’s just some weird coincidence. But all across my circle of friends right now, things are moving, changing and readjusting. And I like it surprisingly well.
On the more sad side of things however, this odd fluidity of the world also means that two of my friends will leave me. *waves* One of them, my best and closest friend up here, is moving to Italy and the other, who lives pretty much right next door, is going to England. I do see the positive aspects of the situation; like that I can visit them next semester in new and exiting places. But I fear really, that I’ll be a little lonely when I’m two friends short of what’s usual. But what scares me the most is the possible clinginess this can produce in me, towards others I know. *bites lip* Like the guy. I went for a walk with him in the dark yesterday and this, along with the fact that we met a very cute little cat in the forest, inspired me to have a rather worrying dream. I was a small black cat with a white little nose-tip, that followed him home from school and lay purring, half-asleep, in his lap.
That has to be bad! *shakes head* From a psychological standpoint. But never mind. Tonight I have to sit down and choose which classes I shall attend next semester. I think I want to focus rather heavily on laboratory classes and applied physics, because the more I learn, the more I appreciate the really neat experimental part of the physics. I even like writing lab reports. *laughs* Which is good, since that’s what the rest of the week will be filled brimful with. However, my mother is coming to visit me the coming weekend, and this I look forward to very much. She will buy me pretty clothes, and as she loves shopping, it will be good for the both of us. *rubs hands* |
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| Tackiness. |
[Nov. 7th, 2006|01:03 am] |
Ehm. I've been tagged by Pip. *looks in wonder at the little yellow mark on her forearm* But because I don't have a mass of people to tag back, I'll leave that out. However, of course I'll happily contribute six random facts about myself. So here goes.
*blinks*
1) I have no idea what to put in this entry.
*blinks*
2) I have no idea what to put in this second part of the entry either. However, I am by now considering confessing to things that have been scary. Or possibly to mention something about this new boy-thing of mine, but that's just tacky.
*looks somewhat furtively around the room, and then dives quickly back to the computer*
3) I don't care one little bit about tacky right now. He gives hours of foreplay and it makes me so damned confused and incoherent.
*swallows*
4) I frequently regret having said tacky things. Right after the fact. I regret the previous entry very hard, right now. I may be blushing.
*tries to not feel red and, only very gradually, manages to calm down*
*blinks*
5) I don't really know what to put in this part number five either. I feel like making up for the previous tackiness, by stating something which will make me look good. But right off the top of my head, I can't think of a thing.
*bites lip and thinks long and hard*
6) In fact I believe that I'm rather a weird person. I hope for this. And that is so tacky that I blush harder than before. If there is one thing which makes people similar, it's the wish to be unique. How awful of me to have even mentioned it.
*drags herself off the internet before she blurts out with more* |
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| Quirky |
[Oct. 28th, 2006|12:44 am] |
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So this guy. He's lovely, but the fact that becomes more and more apparent with time, is that we're both way too fucked up (and this is not me being melodramatic) to have a relationship of any serious kind. It's like putting two kittens on drugs in a basket. We're so dazed we can do nothing but cling to eachother for no better reason than that there's nobody else around. I am a destroyed thing with bite-marks and bruises and skin under my nails. And that would have been ok but for the lack of feeling. I have fucked up a good thing and I can't be sad. |
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| And then the world threw the blah card. |
[Oct. 21st, 2006|06:58 pm] |
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What a stupid fuck of a situation. I met this friend of a new girlfriend of mine, who seemed to like me. He acted that way, girlfriend said so. Then he invites me over and is sweet. And then what happens. Not a shitty little thing. I ask him out, he's busy. He asks me out, but I'm occupied elsewhere. And so now I think we're both feeling rejected and it's all just blah. Luckily school is nice and I went shopping for clothes and had to choose small sizes. Otherwise, this guy should feel honored that he has managed to make me fret over him. Because I try my hardest not to. |
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| Days of lab, days of Daniel. |
[Oct. 18th, 2006|12:10 am] |
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Days of lab, days of Daniel. Days of Lasse-liten, X-rays and karianva. Days of coconut latte. Days of clothes that have become too large. Days of stress and fragile satisfaction. |
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| Statfys and such |
[Oct. 6th, 2006|01:27 am] |
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Yes. I would certainly pay up a considerable amount of cash in order for someone to upload me with statistical-physics-knowledge right about now. Microcanonical, canonical and grand canonical ensemble theories please, a little brush-up on Lagrange and Hamilton mechanics, and a thorough first look into the Ising model. Apart from that, I've been reading a lovely (read hot, at times very hot) ff Advent Children story here. Illustrated. It's porn and pretty. Goodnight. |
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| Please not blind. |
[Oct. 4th, 2006|11:40 pm] |
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People confuse me. The way they wander around and sometimes talk to me. I would like them much better if they always made sure there was room for me wherever they congregate. Like in the coffee shop around noon, or at the bus. And also, this gay meme thing that’s rumoured to fly around, has made me wonder. I’m not so sure about what exactly, but I think there’s a scale and the word bi connected to it. Anyhow, I want the gay percentage of the above mentioned mass of people to be just as space filling as the percentage favouring the opposite sex. In a way, it breaks my heart the way some little boy can fall in love with his friend and then hate, fear and hate himself for being bad, bad, bad. But just as much, it breaks my mind. Because prejudice due to the whole gay/straight issue is just so idiotic, so stupid, and so groundless that it’s hard to understand how someone can actually think that a love like that is bad, just because it’s directed from one boy to another, or from a woman to another, or whatever. And even I feel how it hurts when people discuss the theme, referring to gay people as ‘them’, and saying that ‘they’re’ always like this and that; not even realizing the way they’re hitting me with sticks, because they don’t think at all. When such conversations makes me feel small and frightened, where do they then leave the ones who’re actually sitting right there smack in the ‘them’ term. I hope it leaves them angry. But most of all I want straight and self-righteous people to realize that gay people may also be self-righteous people, or shy people, or people who love green more than blue, or advocates, or stupid, or really bald. And I want some gay people to realize that they can be whoever they want to be and gay. I hope I’m not prejudiced in this, I hope I don’t sound like some awful prejudiced white straight female thing. But sometimes it’s hard to see the world from all far-flung angles, and all you can really do is try. |
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| The day when the words went away. |
[Oct. 2nd, 2006|03:19 pm] |
Hum. I have absolutely no words today. All I say come out sounding horrificly odd. So I will write in short sentences now. For instance, I want to state how much I hate rap. I've tried four times now to write something eloquent about men in polar jackets and girls in hotpants (which is one of the many things I hate about rap music). But it just does not want to come out right. And also, my arm hurts in a strange and localized fashion. I went walking in the forest yesterday, but the arm was not hurt by that. Also I went to a football match and stood screaming with my friend between some very huge men. But neither was it them that hurt the arm. The arm puzzles me.
Otherwise, I wanted to write something about a small but persistent lack of sleep and Walt Whitman. Was he with men? I talked about this during the weekend with a little mexican/norwegian guy. This by the way, reminds me of the fact that I wanted also to describe him. But unfortunately, here the no-words problem come into play again. Litterature student. Kind of small. Want to know more. Want to talk of Walt Whitman. Want it.
But most of all, I want my words back. Now. |
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| Pippichick's |
[Sep. 28th, 2006|11:58 pm] |
Pip! I have things I need to say to you. The first being, that I loved the letters you and ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) bone_fauna wrote to each other over at her journal! Definitely great potential there for more even. Very neat. Espescially with the way you tuned them into the 'path of doom' in such a seemingly innocent and unsuspecting fashion. *grins* I remember I read bone-fauna's story of Legolas and his father way back in the early days of my lotr addiction, and I even think this was one of my first introductions to father/son slash. I'd completely forgotten. I think I was rather scandalized at first when I started reading it but, obviously, I got over it.
The second thing is that, either I'm going crazy, or I read an entry of yours that is now gone (I suppose you removed it). However, I just wanted to tell you, reagrdless, that I do so very much know what you mean. Back when I wrote a little, I had the exact same thing going on after posting a chapter (and escpecially if it was one that I thought was better than my average). In fact, this was part of the reason I think for why I stopped posting stuff. That feeling that you mentioned (given that I'm still more or less sane), more than anything, has the power to turn me into a right addict a times.
Yep, that's all. |
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| Flip the coin, precious, flip the coin. |
[Sep. 24th, 2006|02:25 am] |
Aw, I want to write something hard! Something screaming, vibrantly red as it runs through a jungle with creepers falling from a canopy of wild, wild green above, I want to write something totally hardcore, pulsating, slamming its force into the world. I want to make something violently beautiful, snarling, shrieking at the top of its lungs into a storm that’s wreaking havoc upon everything.
Or really, I would be happy just to write anything at all. But I want to read something incorporating the above. Something clear and hard and powerful, totally it’s own, crashing over me like molten lava. And out of the ashes I would see green chaos rise, swirl into being, crawling its way into existence, making the oceans roar. I just want something that rips and shreds and tears and shouts silver tones into the night. Gosh. I need to find a gold coin to flip into the heavens, or I will drown in grey. |
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| Bored sick, sickly boring, sick and bored. |
[Sep. 23rd, 2006|01:26 am] |
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Bored, bored, oh so bored. I visited my sister last week and it was great, and I mean it was great. I adore my sister, and we always have fun together. So, straying back to the boredom issue, coming back here was a letdown of course. But I expected that; first day back I was deliberately depressed and stayed in all day, didn't even get up. Second day was, surprisingly, spent in a flurry of action. I even chatted up a random stranger whom I overheard having a conversation with someone in the computer room about lacking a labpartner for a course I'm taking. So I walked over and volunteered. That was nice. But the day after, I realized I'd caught this nasty cold somewhere on the flight from my sister's place and back here. So now I've been inside for two days straight, and since there's nothing on television and I've got no books to read, I am bored. Actually, I almost had to go and do a semiconductor lab today, but my partner called in sick. Thank all the gods for that. So, incidentally, I'm now roaming around trying to find some slash to read. So far the most exiting thing that has happened was when I stumbled over a story with a 'NC-17 graphic underaged [brother/brother] incest' warning a few minutes ago. I'm not really sure if the illness has crept into my brain, but this made me feel like shouting a loud halleluja. I'm going to read it now. |
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| Happy |
[Sep. 9th, 2006|04:23 pm] |
 | | Bubbles! Strawberry flavoured, citrus scented, bursting. |
LATER: I just realized it sounds like I'm talking of condoms... *blinks and feels dumb* |
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| Less Human Than Thou |
[Aug. 26th, 2006|04:49 am] |
 | When all are spheres, you're the circle.
I had the most disturbing feeling of lacking a human dimension today. When people talk about certain aspects of their lives, I have nothing of my own to contribute to the conversation.
Oooh, scary - I'm less human than thou. |
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| Self-portrait for when you've dived into the cookie jar. |
[Aug. 17th, 2006|05:00 am] |
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This is me. Cookies in a jar. I'll have too many of them today. Along with coffee. Coffee can be love. There's a girl at the café who looks like Dawn. She gives me coffee if I pay for it. Dawn can be love. She's the Key. The key to coffee. |
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| Quotes |
[Aug. 15th, 2006|02:36 am] |
Hi! What do you know, I'm still alive. *grins* And I do hope you (Es, Milly, Gabby, CE, Pip, LLM) are all well too. Way back in the winter at some point, I *had* to take a little break off from the internet, as it was necessary to face up to the fact that it was eating me alive. But the break became a prolonged absence, and then there was no time to dive back in. I've however, been making careful little trips to old playgrounds lately. And as a result, here are some quotes. *waves white flags and makes sure she's on for no more than two hours*
-A judge is a law student who marks his own examination papers.
H. L. Mencken (1880 - 1956)
-No man has a good enough memory to make a successful liar.
Abraham Lincoln (1809 - 1865)
-I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him.
Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)
-It is impossible to defeat an ignorant man in argument.
William G. McAdoo (1863 - 1941)
-It takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, but even more to stand up to your friends.
J. K. Rowling
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| And we're not dead yet! |
[Jan. 30th, 2006|11:25 pm] |
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Beautiful things. And ugly things. Here there be Dragons. You know, it’s a bloody cliché, but they’re quite literally tearing my mind asunder. Yet, as if that wasn’t enough, there’s the middle ground which is rocky and muddy and, drearily, kinda freakishly grey. Not that I don’t like the occasional climb, but it’s distracting. I wish I could concentrate on just the climb. Because, the climb is the thing to do, actually, because the further you climb the more you see. Of course, this climb may also go downwards. Which is just as good. The thing is, I believe, to ensure that you’re always moving. Standstills are never good. Yet then, why does it always seem best to freeze things away, keep them still and controllable? Paradoxically, the harder you try to control it, or at least, the more you worry about controlling it, the more chaotic it gets. We’re little accidents, waiting to expire. And that’s just so sad. |
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