The European Facet

Mardröm igår kväll igen. Andra gånger den här veckan. Kanske denna mardrömmar är vad jag behöver att stiga upp på morgonen. Men det är egentligen svårt att vakna nyligen. Jag skulle ta en paus från min nuvarande rytm och få en droppe av frisk luft i livet. Aj, jag är trött på att aldrig stå pall.

Sven took another cigarette out of the packet, hoping this one can kill the brain cells of his that convey his feelings for Elis which now deemed as simply unnecessary. Though he hates smoking much, the overwhelming pain surprised him in the stomach drove him back to this unhealthy ‘last’ resort.

On the contrary to the casual vibrations from the banters about the ‘hot’ Scarlet Knights between them, it scorched him severely when saw his big-eyed neighbor girl actually brought one back home.

This burn echoed the memory of a night of melancholy when she told him that she might leave New Brunswick for good as the summer vacation began, since she was planning to transfer to University of Chicago so she could stay in her hometown. That was the first time he found out that he had much stronger feelings towards her than he realized.

When Sven ran into them in the hallway, he tried to smile but failed as she giggled about the actualization of her joke-like ambition declared earlier that day. As a foreign student and a typical Swede, there was no chance for Sven to appear or behave like that African-American ‘knight’ which was supposed to be Elis’ type. The devastating frustration inevitably exposed his fondness for her.

Despite the same skin color and similar bone structures of theirs, Sven didn’t consider they looked good as a couple. To Sven, Elis was like a drop of heaven, fresh and beautiful in a unique way. She reminded him of Jane in ‘A Bronx Tale’, who was unfitting of being a quarterback’s girlfriend as he saw it. On the other hand, Sven knew this one was not to become her boyfriend since she told him that she wanted to stay out of relationships when she was still young.

As he exhaled the smoke into the air, Sven asked himself why every time he gazed upon her eyes, it was so difficult to look away. This soon-to-be habit made it extremely challenging to stay as her friend. But this was life. For now, all that he could do was inhaling one mouthful of smoke after another.

Melodi: I am sailing

Jag vill hångla

Jag vill hångla

Med jättemånga

Här ikväll

Jag vill hångla

Jag vill hångla

Sluta krångla

Jag är snäll

Once upon a time, when I was a perfectionist, I would let thoughts brew in my head and not wrote anything in my blog until I had something deep to say. As for now, I will write whenever I feel like some blogging, because for me blogs are just like paintings, photos and videos, something with which people record their lives.

However, thoughts of mine are far more complicated to register comparing with my butt-ugly face in a picture, for they are usually in a dynamic development. Besides, most of them are strange to the people around me. And with the self-defense nature of mine, which means I, from time to time, try to justify my sanity, it is often difficult to paint an accurate yet satisfying image of mental status. 

But if you think about it, life is never as simple as an idyllic scenery that someone working in a cement forest may long for, but as complex as a ball of entangled cord. Anger and frustration are the most common reaction if one failed in sorting things out in their life. Since I’ve decided to adopt a relatively more optimistic attitude towards life, it is vital that I can come up with ideas to tackle the major problems that are bugging me. Hence I recently spend more and more time in pondering everyday. 

Hypothetically speaking, if I manage to stay in Sweden, what should I do to achieve my goals in life? Learning to speak understandable Swedish would be job No. 1. Be that as it may, is that gonna be enough for me to get the loving that I lack? I guess this is a question that no one can answer, which means in accordance with my optimistic attitude I need to keep trying my luck until the day that I fail to draw breath. Am I that strong? Probably not. But I think I’m capable of keeping up the pursuit of happiness until my forties. If I still couldn’t get my gal until then, I would be perverted enough to hit on high school girls without hesitation which I still dare not to consider. All these hypotheses sound quite sad. But my readiness to satisfy my penis with the risk of getting killed by some furious parent shows that there is rarely something can get me down now. After all, it is just animal instinct, considering I no longer believe in love. Life is simply too short to spend in chasing dreams. And fate is nothing more than a fickle bitch. Even when it sent a cute little ginger in front of you, it may send someone to pull her away ten seconds later. So there is no such thing as trying too hard and no point in taking a break from the so far unsatisfying tail-chasing. It’s just simple arithmetic. The more I try, the higher my chance of getting some is. 

Three years ago, I wouldn’t put something like this online, for such words may scare away some chicks. But now that I understand, so such worries are present in my mind any more. This is indeed a sign of maturity. Although it boils down to instinct-guided actions, I now fully comprehend they are the right things to do. Because I have this thing called heterosexuality resides inside my body and a penis hangs outside of it, even though I have no pretty face and no money at the moment, I’ll always try to get into some girls’ pants. 

Okay, that’s enough pep talk for now.