between dreams

Oh yeah, i was euphoric and took pictures of my porridge this morning and planned to write something witty about it, but tonight it all went away and at the moment i only feel blue and alone. Like that song by Weeping Willows (Swedish pop music at it’s corniest).

I am somewhat alone. I’ve realized that most of my remaining friends live in Iceland and btw: I could probably find a job there and a place to live (here is alright except from the fact that i’m not allowed to play Front Line Assembly downstairs).

I would probably go there soon if it wouldn’t be for my appointment with the dentist on the 16^th.

Until then i’m pretty much stuck here.

Ah yeah, i was supposed to quote my favourite Carl Johan De Geer about how to make porridge. I realized not until now that it wasn’t actually he who said it but i like him anyway. The last time I saw him in the paper he talked about “manlig självömkan” (male self-pity) and how it is central, worshipped even, in parts of today’s culture. Exactly in the same way as it is dominant in my blog! Stackars Malva!

To compensate for my miserable social life I’ve started to dream even more. People I don’t meet in real life I meet in my dreams and it is… well… somewhat like a solution.

Du träumst mich ich dich
Keine Angst ich finde dich
am Halbschlafittchen pack' ich dich
und ziehe dich zu mir

Oooh... my mum handed me some Russian Earl Gray. Ach, my bathrobed muse...

What are my dear readers drinking at the moment?

the artist is the creator of beautiful things

uI went to the big book fair today, and i bought:
A Rumpus in the Garden (kackel i grönsakslandet) by Sven Nordqvist - to Einar. He was here some ten days and left yesterday. I cried the whole day until my mum’s friends came in the evening and gave me red wine. They talked about St Petersburg and the north of Sweden, and I went to bed in a good mood and was no longer afraid to sleep alone.
Container by Max Andersson (one of my favourite comic writers, together with Joakim Pirinen and Daniel Ahlgren. Ok, Mystiska 2:an by Rolf Gohs is a favourite comic because of old Stockholm city and the way it is drawn. Wow! I had forgotten about them! Better look for my albums later on. And Strangers in Paradise by Terry Moore because they both look smashing and because of the lööööv story.)
The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov
The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
A collection with three books by Carl Johan De Geer
Dokument Rörande Spelaren Rubashov by Carl-johan (nú!) Vallgren

and a pocket mirror

I got wine and free stuff, met people and mingled. My aunt introduced me to some Icelanders and my mum found a book with my dad in it. This is the best event of the year. Viva Bokmässan!