Creating fan content (because this is my latest obsession and I want to BABBLE!)

This post is connected to the post I wrote 5.12, called "When are you too "grown up" for something?"

I mentioned in that post a woman who deleted her magnificant stories because she felt "too old" for writing fanrelated fiction and that made me angry.

Now, I've done some more research, and I've come to the conclusion that most of the fans creating and publishing content on the websites on the internet (this is important, I mean websites like ao3 or tumblr or even youtube) are adults over 20 year of age.

It's fun to see when you get to know other creators and get to know their occupation, I mean, they are pre-school teachers, engineers, pharmacists and so forth and it's so delightful for me to relate to these other women in other countries doing real ass grown up stuff just like I, and still create for a show that originally was meant for boys in the early 2000s. So MUCH FUN!

The important thing is that this is on the www-sites. As soon as you step into Instagram (and oh, I tell you, Instagram has a huge portion of fanculture in it) the age of the creators sinks to 15. I've read and seen wonderful content that's created by people born in 2003 and this is where the "cringe culture" comes in, because even IF the stuff I've seen can be really wonderful, there's the other part with so cringy content where you see that oh, shit, this is a 13-year old admin aaaa abort mission

I guess what I wanted to say was that I've found again the love for fan creating, something I loved when I was a cringy teenager, and then took a distance from when "I grew up and began the gymnasium" and now I realize that hell I don't have to grow up from this stuff.

This is an amazing hobby to do together with other people age 20+ and it's glorious.

The Loss of a Dog

Have you ever had a dog?

If you do have, have you also lost a dog?

I lost my family's dog in September. She was old, and had quickly advanced cancer, and she was in so, so much pain that putting her down was basically the only right thing to do. My parents did everything to save her. They spent thousands of euros on medicine and expensive surgeries.

In just five months our lovely dog turned into a shell, and it was heartbreaking to watch her suffer.

She was like my mum's third child. And I know, comparing a dog to a human is silly, but it is necessary. They took her everywhere with them. They even went to Crete (island in the Mediterranian) with our dog in the spring, when she still was healthy.

It's Christmas in a few days, and as a present for my parents I bought a custom painting of our dog. It's the most money I've spent on a present ever, but I felt like I had to. The painting is soo beautiful, and just looking at it tears me up but I'm also so happy because it looks so real.

So, it's not going to be "fun" to give that present to mum and dad because I know mum will probs cry, but then they'll have a wonderful painting of Nelli in their living room and it's so beautiful that hopefully that'll cover some of the loss.

And they're getting a new puppy in January!!!! So now Nelli can watch over the puppy, Molly, from the painting.


Silly I know.

But when you're grieving you do what you gotta do

Happiness

ON A SIDE NOTE THO, TODAY WHEN I CHECKED MY BLOG OFFICIALLY HAS GAINED OVER 3000 CLICKS AND THAT IS QUITE COOL.

Okay, side note is over.

I've just had really really really fun. I'm generally really happy right now.

1. It feels just so awesome to have finished a big project.

2. I've restarted writing my Master Thesis and it's going okay so far.

3. I just started writing on a new fictional piece but it's going to become a short one (less than 10k words)

4. I finished a cute lil drawing I've worked on for maybe four hours or so and I'm very pleased with the result

5. I had the most awesome bacherolette party ever during the weekend and my heart is SWELLING of all the love that was shown towards me <3

6. I'm just generally happy everyone in my family is healthy

7. My parents are getting a little puppy in like 20 days!!!

8. !!!!!

Six years of my life through songs

Everyone posted their Spotify-wrapped results the 5th of December when they became official and I think it's cute to see what other people listen to because music is so personal and it really tells a lot about the person.

But if you go through all your Sporify-wrapped, it tells you more information than just 2019's most listened songs.

I've had Spotify since 2010, and in my case, the Spotify wrapped showed me also the most listened song of all years.

2010

Most listened song: Europa by Globus
Most listened artist: Globus (lol surprise)

During 2010 I was reaally into World War II and Europa is a song that basically narrates all wars Europe has been through in a really cool way (I suggest listening to that song, it's still one of my favourites). I dreamt of performing with this song, dressed in military clothes and waving around with a gun. Doesn't all 15-year old girls dream of similar things? Just me? Ok.

2011

Most listened song: River Flows in You by Yiruma
Most listened artist: Idina Menzel

Ooh, River Flows in You is a piano solo song, and a really beautiful one. Like, dance to this on your wedding- beautiful, and I listened alot to it that spring of 2011. Yes, I also listen to piano songs because you gotta chill from your waving with guns-songs, jeez.
Idina Menzel is actually the voice and singer of Elsa from Frozen, but I knew her from the musical Wicked, which was my obsession during 2011. I listened so much to the soundtrack of that musical, and because Idina Menzel had the main part as the main character, she became the one I listened to the most.


2012-2016 I had a conjoined account with my dad (before he kicked me out and bought me a new one because he didn't want our Spotify to recommend metal songs to him anymore and GOD it was embarrassed when he checked the history and saw certain songs I had listened to jesus christ no dad i'm not crazy those songs about women in mental institutions are just for inspiration - i mean, no - it's just art!)

2016

Most listened song: God of Drow
Most listened artist: Nightwish

God of Drow is a dramatic instrumental orchestral piece that make my non-existing balls shrivel, okay? Just listen to it. Ah. Shivers. So good. SO. GOOD!!
And Nightwish. Self explanatory. Best band ever.

2017

Most listened song: Swashbuckler and the Fair Maiden
Most listened artist: Nightwish

Swasbuckler and the Fair Maiden is another instrumental orchestral piece, that is not at the least as dramatic as the previous year's fav, but it's none the less very, VERY inspiring and makes me smile.
And yeah, Nightwish. Nuff said.

2018

Most listened song: Ready as I'll ever be
Most listened artist: Nightwish

Okay, OKAY, here's the tea! Ready as I'll ever be is a song from the Disney animated series of Rapunzel. You know, princess with long hair? After their feature movie with her they made an animated series, which I've never seen in its enterity, but they have THIS ONE??? PERFECT?? SONG???!! Ready as I'll ever be is the song the villain sings before he attacks the city and villain songs are soo good and aaargh I listened this song on far to menay repeats for my own good

And Nightwish again :D

2019

Most listened song: Yggdrasil by Brothers of Metal
Most listened artist: Sabaton

Yggdrasil was a song I used to listen at repeat on while writing the play that had its premiere in May 2019, and though the song had nothing to do with the story or the theme of the play, but I imagined the main character singing to this song. Dunno why. I like the song!

And Nightwish got kicked of its throne (well, it's second most listened now lol) by Sabaton, which is a great band that I saw live this August.
I love Sabaton very very much!

When finishing something that meant something for you

Ooh, separation anxiety, hello!

From my story, of course.

I finished it. Like, really, really finished it. I published the final chapter and let it go.

It turned out wonderful. Became 81 000 words long. I grew so fond of my main characters, you've got no idea.

I wrote the whole thing in English, and I'm so proud of me for doing it.

Hell, I know people won't get the gist of it because it is a fanfiction, meaning it's inspired directly from events from the original (in my case the anime Naruto), but what the heck:

Here's the link to the story,
in case anyone wants to read it with google open in other tabs to figure out what the hell this universe is.

Now I'll go off writing on my Master Thesis.

When are you too "grown up" for enjoying certain things?

In 2017 I read a fantastic, bloody amazing fanfiction, that wasn't too long (as bloody amazing fanfics tend to be), but it was brutal, it was honest and it had the best emotional torture I have ever read. And the most funny thing is that this fanfic was inspired by the musical CATS. That musical, with barely any plot (which is a lie, there is actually quite a lot of plot if you listen to the words of their songs and analyse the play. But no, it's not easy to grasp the plot if you just watch it once and don't care more abt it) was the basis on a bloody amazing story.

Anyways, I remember reading it mesmerizingly on the metro and in buses from my phone.

She even started writing a sequal of the fanfic, regarding the characters that went through the emotional torture and how they cope and survive the aftermath, and she wrote four relatively short chapters.

And then she announced that she "has grown up and don't do silly things like writing fanfictions for a relatively happy musical with no plot".

I was baffled, but of course respected her choice.

Now I started looking for those fanfics again, to get inspiration, because they were so good, and I found out that she had deleted them. Deleted them! The only trace of her online presence she had left was a few of her comedy fics from the same fandom, but the angsty ones were gone.

Heck, I'm 24. I've posted stuff like torture from my fanfic on the internet, but I don't think like hell that it's "immature" to do so, as long as the angst and H/C is dealt with in a mature way (which it is and which her story was!).

I was just so baffled that this person felt probably embarrassed by writing angst on the internet now that she is a real "grown up".

I know that most online writers with decent quality content are over 20. Some of them might be around 18-ish, but the majority is probably closer to 30 than 20. People are talking about their spouses and heck, even about their children. There are mothers out there writing amazing content, for us, for free, and it should hell not be embarrassing, even IF you've written about though, horrible content like torture.

It should not matter! Age should not matter! You're real life should not matter online (as long as you're not doing anything harmful).

Argh! I get upset by thoughts like this.

Teaching kids

I've been teaching 10 year old kids the last week and this, and let me tell you, it is.... weird.


Like, the actual lesson/teaching thingy is hell of a lot easier than teaching to those 16-19 year olds that I'm used to (I was a teacher last year). Then, I could spend quite some time making lesson plans. Here, I'm basically opening the book 5 minutes before the lesson starts and quickly check whatever I even will talk about and then the kids arrive and I start talking.

The actual "having lessons" part is easy peasy. But the real challenge is getting the difficult children to keep themselves on topic. You have to be present in a whole another way when teaching for kids than when teaching to independent youngsters. It's hard to explain, but a 45 min lesson takes as much energy as a 75 min lesson for teenagers, but it's a lot different.

I'm not sure if I like it. I love talking in front of the class and have the lesson, but my god, kids need the adult so present that it basically annoys me.

It is a difficult class. Every teacher here gives me sympathetic smiles and probably thinks "luckily it's not me" and the head master said that it is the most challenging class in the whole school. The class has two difficult students. Only two. And those two is all that take to bring the whole class down in a downward spiral.

So my job is to redirect those kids as much as possible, before things spiral out of hand. They can be violent, too.

But I think I've done a good job. They listen for the most times. I've got their respect. I once shouted at one of them because I was so goddamn tired at their fuckery, but otherwise, I think they like me.

I mean, teaching is fun.

But I don't like teaching to children that much.

But who knows, maybe I could work as a teacher for kids for a year or so, if I turned out unemployed and this was the only solution.



Other than teaching kids, I'm still writing my story. I'm currently at 75k words and it's almost hilarious how fast I've spit out this story. It took me almost a year to write my 110k word original fiction story (Children of a Murderer), but this fanfic comes like diarrhea out of my fingers and brain, and those 75k is from less than two months. Lol. And I'm writing my other play by the side of this, so my brain is very occupied, sadly at the expense of this blog and I hate that I only upload once a week, when I want it to be every three days :(

I'll try <3

A little snippet of my text

Let me share a little snippet that I like quite much from the story I'm just about to finish! I'm currently writing the final chapter (chapter 16) and then it's finished and I'll edit the final four chapters before uploading them to the site I'm using and THEN I can focus on my Master Thesis lololol

I won't however write the character names out (I'm for some reason embarrassed by showing the character names even though I haven't made them up myself), but we have J, S and C, all fourteen years old. J and S are boys, C is a girl.

“I won’t ever be able to forgive myself if J dies”, S said, staring in front of him. “I should have been able to figure out that someone might want to ruin the conference. I should have been able to hear whoever it was that shot us. I should have been able to find out a way for us to escape. But I didn’t. And that lightning – “

“S, don’t beat yourself up”, C said. “It’s also my fault. I should have taken this more seriously; I should have known –“

“I’ve tried, C! I’m this close to just throw the bombs away and just do nothing, but they’ll know”, S hissed. “And I – I can’t stop thinking about him. How he’s alone there in that cold cell, like some animal ready to be butchered. I can’t stop myself, C, and it hurts! It hurts everywhere.”

“It hurts me too –“

“No, you don’t get it”, S yelled, and his voice was rapidly picking up sound level. His thoughts spun around in his head and he felt sick. “He is – we were supposed to – I get that he’s your friend, but to me… he is my boyfr –  hell, I love him!”

His puberty voice cracked at the final line like a stick snapping and his loud voice echoed in the valley.

There are less stressful ways to come out of the closet tho, poor little S.

Adapting

I'm somewhat enjoying my life again, more than earlier this autumn. I've found a new friend in school so I'm not all alone anymore and things have worked out in my family with my mum falling ill and stuff.

My life is very much filled with acting, or is going to be! I like that.

Earlier this autumn I wrote how acting has lost its spark within me, but EHEY it found its way back! Figures.

The thing with this new theatre group is that I am, or was, extremely used to the very routine that the old theatre fomation had. I mean, it was present in my life for eight years after all, and I can't be too harsh on myself for constantly comparing this to that. This new director is veeery different from my old co-worker/boss/teacher. There's way less order here. It's a lot of downtime (dead time). It's not almost at all playing, and to be honest much less acting than I'm used to.

I'm trying. Trying to adapt as much as possible.

Trying to see the good things in what I have now.

Time IS indeed running fast

How suprisingly easy it is to fall down a hole where suddenly life just pass by and you don't even notice?

Time is runnig so fast I can't keep up.

I am currently listening to my new favourite piece of music (and have done so for quite many hours in a loop because I am that person who literally listens to a song for a year non-stop)

it's called Save me by the band Globus.

And I swear, when I heard that song for the first time it awoke so many emotions in me, because I knew that if I had heard this song when I was 17-18 it would.... I don't know, but I felt that this song fits in my mindset and my then current emotions when being in that age.

Ok I know the song is extremely angsty. It is about a person on the verge of suicide and asks for help (hence the name "save me") but my god if it isn't the most beautiful song I've heard in a good while.

Oh, Save Me from fear and pain

And love will rain on me

Save Me today, 'fore tomorrow 

Finds me at rest

This song became now the theme song of the story I'm currently writing. No, there's no suicide involved, but a kidnapping and hostage situation that is very stressful for the ones in the that situation and those lyrics fit that scenario too, and ooooooh I get emotional when thinking about my baby characters!

They're a bit younger than my usual main characters, they're just fourteen instead of seventeen eighteen that is my usual target to write about. The best thing is that I'm the writer so I can make sure they get a happy ending (or I promised my readers that already because someone was worried about that so I promised to create a happy ending and tbh I would be sad too if I were to kill them off. I love them cuties).

I even drew a pic of them when being bored that turned into a full lineart picture. These are my main characters :) Though I didn't make them up myself (fanfic u kno), that's why is was so easy to draw them lol.

The middle character to the right is activating "magic", hence the hands in such a weird position. The symbols beside each character symbolise their home country.

Feedback on angst

I've always been so unapologetic, and especially when it comes to my own fantasies. Like, you better deal with my territory or get out- kind of stuff.

The story I've been writing on (and publishing on the internet) is an angst piece and at the last chapter, where the actual abuse and angst begins someone commented along the lines of "nonono, i can't this is too much"

I was... honestly startled and it made me extremely selfconscious.

Did I overdo it? This was just the beginning of the angst-part (there's also an adventure part and a fight scene and drama and love and all other kinds of stuff, the angst is the main theme of one arc in the story), but was it already too much?

I know authors shouldn't take all feedback that seriously, but it really made me think.

AM I overdoing the angst part?

I rewrote the next chapter, which I am about to publish today. The original version was angsty, but then I rewrote it as even more hopeless and helpless and total despair, and now I redid the ending of the chapter to end on a positive note, because I'm scared people will stop reading if they find it too much to stomach.

There's a genre in writing called Hurt/Comfort. Hurt/comfort (or H/C) means that you can hurt your characters both emotionally and psysically, but they have to have some sort of comfort after. You end things usually positively.

I decided to turn a little bit away from angst (which usually keeps the miserable tone for a longer time than H/C) in favour of H/C.

Because, for the first time in my life, I decide to listen to something else than my sadistic tendencies.

It is weird and a little bit scary, but I'll try.

But the hard moral choice is still there for my characters, and I will not change the devastation it'll give them.

Writing rambles

Happy November!


November is also known in the writing community as NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month.

It's basically a challenge where one would write a full sized ass novel in 30 days, mimimum word count 50 000. This year it's also 20 years anniversery for NaNo.

I might have cheated a bit, as I've been written in a really fast pace my second fanfic, which is as of now, 44 000 words.

Those 44 000 words are written in 20 days. TWENTY FUCKING DAYS.

That is around 2200 words each day, and that, my friends, is really, really tough to accomplish.

This is not the first time I've speed-written something, I managed to puke out 30 000 words in seven days when I was 15 and that was madness.

But I'm proud. Proud that I seem to win the NaNoWriMo this year, that it looks like I'll manage to write 50 000 words in 30 days, even if I started at October 10th instead of November 1st.

Maybe I'll one day be a writer and author for real. I think I someday might. Maybe not now. Maybe when I'm 30 years old.

For now, let me finish writing my little angsty piece where I put three teenagers through really difficult moral choices. Ah. I love writing angst.

Tenacious little me

I listened today to an old song from the movie Tenacious D, which was a huge favourite of mine when I was 13 years old, in seventh grade. I  know I go back to the times I was 13 quite a lot, but there's so much to untangle from that year in my life that I won't stop until I don't have the need to mull over my past anymore.


The movie Tenacious D was everything a little rebel me needed. It was a comedy musical about heavy metal, had satanistic undertones, a lot of cursing and a lot of brutal sex in it. Maybe not you go to-movie for a 13 year old girl, but I loved that movie, and had downloaded some of its music.

Me, a girl, listening to that movie's songs made me actually quite popular in the boys' department, as they hadn't met a girl that liked "boy stuff" that way before.

But back to the satanistic undertones.

I used to tease my very religious friend about me watching the movie Tenacious D. She saw heavy metal (and the very obvious Satan character) as satanism and I loved to scare her about demons and devils. Not maybe the best move of someone who wanted to call her a friend, but when thinking back I realize I used the shocking method in getting friends that spring of 2009.

My way of making people look at me, and see me and talk to me was to do something absurd/shocking enough so they'd remember me.

It worked for the most time, but only short term. No one wanted to be friends with a madman for real. I didn't care. I liked the attention from people being actually scared of me. I wanted to be frightning, because to me, that equaled power. If my friends are afraid of me, I can control them.

That didn't work out of course.

I'm so happy that one friend called me out for being agressive and hitting people, because I don't know if I could stop if it hadn't been for her.

Thinking back to that movie makes me laugh a lil bit at myself. Foolish little 13-year old girl, thinking violence could solve most things. Lol.

Over ten years ago. Thankfully time flies.

Hurting someone

I was going to write in all fury and disappointent and self loathing all this on Sunday or Monday, but I had to get a few extra days to process and accept this issue.

Have you ever hurt someone so bad that they cry in your face, and you never meant to hurt them but something insignificant you once said turned out to have a huge impact on them and they dwell and cry about what you said and you had no idea.

I managed to hurt my mum really bad about a week ago. It was horrible.

I had meant it as a joke. As a simple not so funny joke. Turns out she took it very serious and I had ruined her day and taken away her night sleep, and then she confronted me; and let me tell you, having your mum cry in front of you because her own daughter was such a piece of shit, my god


it was horrible


so so horrible


and I hate myself for what I said


it was a joke


but then there's this thing again to remember

Words hurt just as much as a knife

Fuck

Please, tell your parents how much they mean to you

I almost lost my mum two weeks ago, and then I managed to break her heart

it was horrible

but it's good now. better now. but damn.

it was horrible

Living in a grey world

This fall is absolute, utterly, undenyingly SHIT.

My dog died.

Then my mum almost died.

I've fallen into my own fantasies really hard, and reality is not really a concept in my world anymore. I hide in my own head.

I have acting in my life again, but it has not been the way it used to be. Back in the days, Mondays (or theatre day) was the best day of the week. Mondays continue to be theatre day, but I don't even wanna go to practise. Am I getting sick?

Acting just doesn't do the job anymore. It's not a drug anymore, and I'm fucking sad about that. It used to be the best thing in the world for me, it was pure freedom. The drug is gone and I had to find a new one.

I found a drug in writing, and that's what I'm doing for many hours a day. I forget about the outer world, I live in a fantasy world. And yes, I've become really, really addicted. I think about it all day. One of the first things I think of when I wake up is what I'm going to write, and when I come home from being away my fingers itch because I want to be on my computer.

My Master Thesis, lol. It's there and I've worked on it, but fucking hell.

It's hard to think of the future. I live in the moment so hard, that I almost forget that I have lots of things to plan and look forward to, but I can't. The future is just not there. I just want to wake up, write, live in a world that is not real, and then go to sleep again.

I am lost. Yes, I truly am. I don't know why I'm living anymore. Acting lost its spark, the vurnability of all living is hauting me, I'm stuck with my play and think it's shit, I hate planning a future, though I look forward a new puppy very very much.

But I guess this is life, in all its glory.

Winter is coming

Yes, winter IS really coming.

We have a big beautiful tree right outside our window and we follow the leaves every day, and this morning when I woke up, almost all leaves had blown away during the night. Now the tree is almost completely naked.

I kind of like winter and autumn. I love snow. I even love the dark, but this is so ironic because winter mood is slowly hitting me again and that's because of the darkness.

So I should hate winter with its dark, but I can't.

I should hate the cold, because I freeze easily, but I love wearing hats and mittens. I love when it's not hot.

And everytime some other Finn, on Facebook or whatever is complaining about the cold and the dark, I'm almost flipping my shit. Stop behaving like a baby and adapt! I adapt. We're humans, we are great at adapting, so stop talking about you pikalähtö (traveling abroad without planning) and put on mittens.

Oh, this is not pointed towards any individual in particular, just random people on facebook that I should unfriend.

Hello, I didn't die

I can't remember the last time there was unplanned six days between posting. I love posting here.

I found a way to get the voice back. Maybe that's why I'm floating in my headspace.

I've had lots of things to do.

I write. A lot.

I chose the final wedding dress I'm about to have. It's so beautiful.

I've been to the pony everyday of this week, as my mum fell sick, and I had to postpone/ not do other things in order to have time for the pony.

The pony have been really wild these late days. No, I've not fallen off, of course, but she's not the easiest to ride, at the moment. Funnily enough, I kind of enjoy it either way.

I turned 24 years old. Had a little party for my family. Made a blueberry pie that was absolutely sheisse, but tasted good, yo!

I sleep a lot more. Since the days got darker and darker, my energy deplete. It's okay though, I know this is just the cycle of my psyche.

I read. A lot. Wonderful stories, brutal ones. Romantic ones. Ones where the main character is abused. Great ones.

Frustrated... so fucking frustrated

This week has gone to absolute crap. Fucking hell.

I'm feeling so frustrated with the theatre group I'm in right now. We've been doing absolutely nothing for one month. One month of "practise", and it's all been sheit. I feel like I'm the only one knowing anyfuckingthing about acting.

That doesn't mean that the other ones are bad actors! No, no, no, the few things I've seen them do has been absolutely legit and interesting, but this is the problem. The "few" things. We haven't done acting at all! We've talked and talked and talked for 2 hours out of the 3 hours practise, and discussed plans that the director anyways already has decided about and a lot of the older members ride on inside jokes.

I realize that I take a lot of place. I force myself to take place, because I want to be noticed. This project feels like a ship put together with silver tape. Hell, even the small productions I did with eleven children out in the country side felt more put together and professional than this.

I'm so frustrated, but at the same time I force myself to adapt. I can't get what I want everytime. I must let other people have their opinions. But fuck, they like discussing philosofical questions (we talked for quite some time about the myth that actors are broken inside) but can we even call ourselves actors if we don't do FUCK WHEN WE'RE SUPPOSED TO???

I just don't get what the point is when all they talk is about what we're going to do when we don't do anything.

I want to ACT. I want to.... FUCK, I WANT WHAT I HAD BEFORE

I want this to be 2016 again. When I had my old job. The kids were fine, the teenagers wonder, wonder, wonderful, I had the best coworker/boss, and I found myself and worked out who I was in companionship with acting and now that I want to act someone is keeping it away from my hands, out of reach, and I'm frustrated.

Yes, we can talk about Turkka and all the theatre myths but nothing matters if... I... can't... do... what I went there to do.

I am so fucking selfish, for being the way I am.

Just rambles, and a good song (!!!)

I'm atleast halfway out of my trance and the voice in my head has calmed down. But having the voice calmed makes me bored. I mean, it gave me constant stimulation in my brain, and now that it's silent for most of the times, I'm getting slightly annoyed that I don't have that stimuli anymore. Which is one reason why I'm writing this.

There's no actual reason for me to write, because I uploaded a post yesterday, but I'm so desperate for a voice in my head (after being used to having someone who talks in there for a couple of weeks) that I have to awake it by writing.

So yeah, hello again!

I'm sulking today. I'm angry at nothing and the whole world at once. I crave stimuli in my head and there's currently nothing that's good enough!

I've listened to this song so much it's almost alarming hehe:

If you're in a hurry and don't want to listen to the whole thing, listen atleast from 2:25 to the end, because it's soooo goooooood!

Poison by Alice Cooper, here in some kind of production.

This, THIS HERE, is like porn. A good song, an AWESOME cover of said good song, fantastic scenography (and a striking similarity to Iceland's Eurovision song 2019), dramatic setting and dance. Cause of deafness: this song.

I don't know which one I'd like to do more: Act in this particular setting as the singer, or write a story (play) where this song takes place. So inspiring I'm almost going mad!

*rubbing hands evily together while imagining characters in that particular setting*

More about sharing texts

I'm baffled.

When I wrote the last post, around 600 people had read/clicked up my story on the site it was uploaded to, and today over 700 has done it. That's one hundred more in like two days.

Hits on a fanfic is a whole different thing than views on a youtube-video. We've been so blunted to views on Youtube, I think. We value a video out of views, and, hell, even if a video has less than 10 000 views the creator is not seen as successful (in the English-speaking community). Do we even know anymore how many people ten thousand are? Videos with over one hundred thousand views are maybe viewed as successful ones. A video with 700 views is nothing.

But here's my tea. It's easy to watch a video. It demands nothing of you, just an ounce of your concentration (if even that) for ten minutes or so. That's why Youtube is so popular - because the viewer can take the easy way out. You can clean your apartment while a vlogger babbles on about their day and you don't even have to listen that closely.

Reading a story is a whole other matter. Reading is an activity that demands quite a lot of the brain. If you read normal pace, I think it takes about 2-3 hours to read the story I've uploaded. That means, that out of the seven hundred that opened my story, maybe four hundred read it in its enterity, and sacrificed hours out of their free time to read it. That's about how much some of the FinnSwe-authors sell on less known books.

And it's all micro managing. Only people interested in this fandom, in these characters, will be interested in my story. And that's why it feel to me like such a big number of people.

It makes me goddamnt proud. And yes, I am allowed to feel proud. I put probably twenty hours in writing it, so let me be happy people enjoy what I put my soul into.

Letting other people read your texts

I remember a girl I once tried to befriend, who was, just as I was, a hobby writer. We both wrote in the same genres, and I was very excited to share and talk about our stories, in the hopes to get tips, feedback and new ideas.

She refused. She refused to even talk about what her novel was about. She had this thick notebook, filled with texts, scenes, ideas, you name it, and she guarded it like a dragon gards its nest. I became incredibly annoyed with her because she would rather die than discuss her own texts.

Showing other people your fictional texts IS a very personal thing. You write a fictional text with feelings you channel into the characters. Of course you're going to be nervous, especially if you've written about, for example, rape. What would your friends say when they'd read a detailed scene of something so vulgar, that YOU wrote?

The way of expressing yourself in text in also very individual and, as always, personal.

But it's so SO worth it to share, if you get the chance.

My novel, the long one, has been read by five people and getting their feedback was worth more than gold. They all liked it, luckily for me.

But ever since I started to write plays I've learned to take a variety of different feedback, both the good and the negative and it is wonderful. And it's at the same time like releasing a burden, you've bottled up inside this text and finally let it go to other minds and it's such a good feeling, even if you're sometimes embarrassed.

I uploaded the last chapter of my English story on the site "archive of our own" today. Over 600 people have read it, or well, clicked it up. SIX HUNDRED. It sounds like... a lot! In comparision to the famous ficwriters, it's not that much, but hey, it's more than one, and certainly more than I expected, concidering I'm a newbie and never heard on that site.

I've gotten comments, all of them supporting and positive. Man, they like my writing!

It feels great to let other people read what you write. It's therapeutic, in some kind of way. It's nice.

The next step would be to let a critic see my new play and review it in the news papers. One can dream.

The voice

The voice in my head is much, much louder than usual, and it proves to be troublesome to live with it for the moment.

I can barely be in a conversation with anyone, because the voice in my head outspeaks everyone I'm actually trying to talk with and I can't control the voice, it's so damn LOUD

I do my best to fake that I'm listening to people, while the damn voice keeps talking to me about possible scenarios for characters, and I hear lines over and over again in my head. Some days it's not as talkative and let me live in reality, but yesterday it didn't leave me alone for one second and it was annoying but interesting at the same time

because

I like what the voice talks about, but being unable to control your thoughts is less ideal.

And to clarify, it's my own voice, me, myself, and not a "outside" voice in my head. It's not an illness. I think.

But the uncontrollable part of my mind, the deepest parts of my mind are strong at the moment.

Almost stronger than the active part-

I zone out a lot. I stare into nothingness. I forget things easily. I forget to eat. I would live off coffee if I could. I isolate myself away from my fiancé, because in loneliness the voice is bearable, I can have conversations with myself in my brain if I'm alone.

I dream away to far away universes, I push deadlines and make homework an hour before they have to be done. I have a hard time gripping reality because of the voice. The only thing the voice does not interfere with is my horse. I never forget my horse.

Hopefully I'll be able to live in this reality quite soon. It's exhausting to live in two worlds at the same time.

Who I am

I had a wonderful play-writing session yesterday (bless the team I'm surrounded by!!!) and I once again realized that I'm a bit slow when it comes to comedy.


Always known I don't like comedy that much, and always known I don't really like writing/performing comedy.


But it seems everyone else love comedy. We had a really good brainstorming session where the team and I figured together out a thrilling story with different premisses:

A homosexual couple, Jakob and Fritz, defies society 1939, and when the Jakob has to leave for war Fritz dresses up as a woman (to avoid army) and work in a corset shop. The Fritz dies before the man returns from war.

A friend couple, Jakob and Fritz, where Jakob is gay but Fritz is not. Fritz is a jew and has to hide at Jakob's and they live as husband and wife (Fritz dresses as a woman to hide his identity). When Jakob returns from war Fritz leaves him.

Neither Jakob nor Fritz are homosexual as they know in the beginning, but gradually finds feelings for one another, but in the end Fritz still leaves Jakob.

And so on, and so on, and these are all tragic stories about heartbreak, but then the other ones started to talk about "what a comedic effect" this has, and I was flabbergasted because I simpy couldn't find one single "funny" thing about our premisses.

Is a man dressed as a woman funny by default? Not in my world. Not at all.

Is homosexuality something funny, worth comedy? Not at all. It's legit. It's real.

I just didn't get what on earth bore the comedic value in there.


Later on, I presented a scene from ny new play, the play about soldiers, that I briefly wrote about earlier on here. I plan on having one of the main characters die by the end, by suicide or other.

Still one of them suggested a more comedic turn on the play, something that in my opinion would ruin the whole thing, because I don't write comedy and I almost got angry at her for suggesting that. Not that I showed anything, I just laughed it away. I don't do comedy.

Am I weird? Am I doing this wrong?

I just.... want to keep killing things. Characters. It soothes me. It makes me feel stuff. It gives me kicks to write, and read and be pain and death and cries.

I told my new theatre buddies that I love when characters die on stage. Get the cat out of the bag right off the beginning. They stared at me like they've seen a ghost. I don't care. I want them to know who I am.

Death scares me. But writing about death feels good. Writing death is good.

I am me.

Publishing on the internet

For the first time since I was 13, I've posted fiction on the internet.

When I was 13 (or 14), I posted a couple fanfictions, written in horrible English, but with a thrilling premisse. People actually read it, and commented on the piece, even if the English was barely holding up.

But I wrote myself into a grave and had to abandon the story because I couldn't figure out a way to end it, and even if the fanfic is still out there, I won't revisit whatever abomination 13-y o me wrote. Since I've since then become embarrassed by that I've not published anything fictional on the internet.

A) because origianl fiction may be stolen and that's not fun
B) you don't want to give away your precious ideas


But now, since I've read so many wonderful fanfics over this summer I had to give in and write my own. I just finished it on Saturday, and published the first chapter yesterday. I was very nervous, because even if I polished the English and checked everything and wrote as good as I possibly can, I though people wouldn't like it. But I wanted to challenge myself.

During the night, I got two comments! Wow, two! I though I'd get none. And 10 people liked it. Amazing. And the best thing was that the comments were incredibly supportive, and one of them complimented my writing (and English). I got so happy. You may think two comments and 10 people liking it is a small number, but this is the first time I've published anything in ten years on the internet, and in a language that's not my first, so I'm actually proud.

Hopefully the support keeps coming when I publish the other chapters.

The story is a fanfic of the anime Naruto that I've been watching this past summer, so people not knowing the story of that anime won't sadly get what my own story is about. But I'm happy that the poeple who do like my fanfic so far.

Grumpy me @ plays I've seen

Okay let's do this.

I saw the past two weeks two plays, and they were.... for lack of better words: bad.

I mean, they had their own charm and I really enjoyed the backdrops and the props and the lights, and sound, but is it actually a good play if the audience enjoy the props more than the actual story? Haha, I forgot, it's because both of these plays LACKED STORY and this is one of my biggest pet peeves of theatre ever and I don't get it how critics AND the artsy farsty directors find that desirable.

Hell, for one of the plays I had to take up the pamflet and actually read what the hell was going on, in the middle of the play. If you need to write the storyline of the play down and share it to the audience to keep the audience on track, then you're doing hell of a poor job as director and playwright. I hate when directors focuse more on themes than an actual story.

None of the characters had names, and in the end, you didn't even care about them. If the audience doesn't care about your characters they don't care about the plot either so why should they care about the play?

I get so annoyed and arrogant because in the end I'm no professional, only someone who cares greatly about plays and theatre, but I have an opinion and my opinion is that plays like these are shit. Give the story more focus, instead of giving the audience a trip because light effects are cool.

Yes, light effects are cool. But not anymore after five minutes of flashing without a reason to do so, only to give a boner to the guy who designed the whole thing. Fucking hell.

I sound like an old grumpy lady. I know. But I become grumpy when characters are wasted in favour of themes or effects. Lost potential, basically.

If I one day become a playwright with actual influence (which is not going to happen, but one can dream) I'll never ever write a play with only a theme and characters without names.

Arrogance

I'm currently facing a new negative trait in myself that has grown much during these past weeks.

It's arrogance.

I've become so arrogant that I'm almost disgusted with myself and I'm so scared that this will drive me into ridiculous arguments with people. Yeah sure, on this blog I'm allowed to be arrogant, as this is my own little time out space, but with other people...... I don't want to be arrogant.

Ughhhh

Trying to bring myself energy to write a little longer post about two plays I saw this past week, but right now I'm focusing on writing fiction (so my short story will be finished as soon as possible, on Sunday at the very latest). However, I'll be able to scrape together willpower to write before Sunday!

Willpower is one of my better traits after all.

Robin Hood

One of my favourite stories of all time is the story of Robin Hood. There's so many adaptions out there that there's barely any idea in arguing which adaptation is the "real" one, but I've seen quite some of them and I usually enjoy them immensely.

The reason why I love the story of Robin Hood is nothing less that you'd expect from me, considering my preferences when it comes to stories.

I love execution scenes, and have since I was a child, and I happen to love hanging scenes, too. The climax in the basic Robin Hood story is when he is finally caught and brought to the gallows and the audience is to believe he'll die, but eventually he's saved.

The Disney version doesn't obviously (sadly) have the hanging scene in it, but there's a scene when guards capture him and tie him down, and that was the best part of the whole movie.

In 2010 a bigger theatre here in Finland put up Robin Hood and I was living it! Not only was Robin really defensless with the noose around his neck, he was almost naked too, and the bad guy carved into his belly with a knife and I was reveling in that scene. Fuck! I love torture on stage.

Anyways -

When I was 10-11 years old I had a story in my head that was basically inspired by the story of Robin Hood. I never wrote it down, but I daydreamed about that story quite a lot.

Contrary to the real Robin Hood, my own story circled aroung three siblings. The oldest one, the boy, was called Omega. He was the smart ass of the trio, and concocted the plans. The middle sibling, a girl, was called Robin, and she was basically the Robin Hood with the good morals. The youngest sibling, a girl, was called Lakrits (meaning liqourice) and she was the devil of the group and the one who did all the dirty work. She was also the only one to get caught and brought to the gallows.

The scene I daydreamed was about Lakrits being hanged, and Robin and Omega being in the audience, panically trying to find out how to save their little sister.

I never found out a way for them to save her. I never wrote down the story, never gave them backstories (that I remember), and these three characters live in a limbo, and they will forever remain as a childhood story.

I would love to act in the story of Robin Hood on stage. I would love to act as Robin Hood. But I could just as well act as the bad guy, but DAMN, a female Robin Hood sounds good, doesn't it?

A pattern of dreams

While it's technically impossible to re-dream the same dream you once had, you can dream according to a pattern, and I've got two patterns I dream many times a year according to, and the feeling after waking up is exactly the same after each dream of one pattern.

(Wow we're really going back, because a few years ago I ofter updated my dreams to this blog, which I've not done for a while)

The pattern I'll talk about is "running away from the enemy after I've sabotaged something".

That's the umbrella name for this time.

I often dream about having an enemy of some sort, and running away from them, while being chased. Sometimes I hide, but usually they get up to me really fast. Contrary to what most "run away"-dreams are described to be; these are fun! I'm never scared in them, I'm never out of breath and the feeling is over all kind of when Jack Sparrow runs away from guards in the Pirates of the Caribbean-movies.

These dreams are fun! Because even if I for the most times actually get caught in the end, I never give up. I know I'm not the true enemy.

A couple of night ago I dreamt I was two persons at once, myself, and a young man in the Finnish army. I kind of controlled both bodies. The Finnish man decided to go rampage and shoot his camerades and then he (I) run away.

The real me was launched into an investigation to find this man and I had a hard time keeping a straight face because I knew where the other me was hiding, because I was him too. So I ran in the opposite directions the real me told the police. It was exiting, and the real me thought to the other me why the fuck did you do that look what mess we're in right now do not keep walking south they're heading south to look for you get out!

I like those dreams alot.

A characters fate

I'm back where I love to be the most.

I've got acting in my life again. I've got play writing. And what is so crazy is that I don't even know which one I enjoy the most; writing plays or acting them out.

I've got an unlimited imagination I REVEL in it!

I know what my next play is going to feature. Soldiers. Girls of course. Girl soldiers. Man, I love writing girls. Agressive girls, normbreaking girls. Those are my favourites. Haha, autobiographic much? Damn it.

In my earliest plans I figured the one soldier was going to kill the other one because of treachery, but now I juggle with the idea of having the traitor kill herself instead, and this would be on stage.

Killing someone on stage, having someone COMMIT SUICIDE on stage is a very tricky thing. A sensitive thing, and I'm not sure if the audience would even enjoy it. I would enjoy it, of course, but not everyone is like me.

I want to kill off one of the soldiers, but maybe I must listen to the soft side and have her run away instead. Fuuuuuu -

When I have that thing sorted out, later in the writing process and autumn, I will be back with an update. Will she die or survive?

Hell, I don't know.

I saw her again

Yesterday I saw one old friend from the gymnasium. The upper secondary school times.

We crossed the street, we were walking to opposite directions and we said hello with a really happy tone to each others.

I meant my happy tone. Because out of all the selfish, hollow assholes that pretended to care about me she was the best one. I don't think she actually disliked me, not really, but she was being controlled by others and if the others didn't want me there she had to obey.

I felt really, truly empty when seeing her. Not angry. Just empty.

I've so many years dealt all by myself the "trauma" that final fucking year of upper secondary school gave me, all the negative emotions and anger and just pure fury I stored in myself that it's all empty now. Not even my fiancé knows. I've confined like two friends very, very briefly upon this, but never in detail.

I wonder what she thinks of me. Does she have bad conscience at all? Does she regret anything? Is she happy with her life at the moment?

Those are things I wonder. And things I'd never ever dare to ask.

I saw her last probably three years ago.

I think it'll be another three years before I spot her again.

I don't miss her. But god. I miss the life I could've had.

The third language

.... is English!

This summer I've been completely drenched in English. I've read so much in English this summer that it's almost ridiculous.

So many fanfictions, all in English (and I will fight you if you tell me it's not literature, because it is!)

The published book I currently read is also in English.

My internet world is mostly in English.

I write here in English.

I'm currently writing a short story (*cough cough fanfic cough cough*) in English, and as of now it's about 6000 words long and my goal is to make it 15000 words long.

So yeah, I'm an user of this language.

I remember as a child, when we learned English the first time at the age of 10, and we studied the "ing-form" (as in writing, drawing etc) and I'm staring at the chalkboard wondering where have I learned this before because I know this and that's from videogrames we played as kids and you were learning English before even realizing it.

I was one of the best English speakers in my classes, and that wasn't because my grammar and stuff was better than anyone else's, but because I spoke. I had the courage to speak this language, and because of me not being scared of performing in the class, I did quite funny presentations too. It boosted my selfconfidence and it was a free ticket to good scores.

In gymnasiet I found a friend who was better at English than I was, and after accepting that I couldn't be the best one, it was okay. I attended a course in England and learned to talk way better English and I got the British accent from that trip.

I'm just basically happy that I feel so secure using English, even if I make shitty mistakes every now and then.

Violence

This week I was a substitute teacher in a elementary school. Well, it should've gone alright if we omit the fact that three kids broke out in a physical fight.

And my first initial reaction would be to respons with violence to end the fight. Just in time my sanity got the better of me and convinced me to talk to the kid who was hitting the other one instead of doing what my first reaction was.

If I was to follow my guts I'd grab the kid by the arm, squeeze as hard as I can, and twist his arm. But you can't do that to a child. You can't use violence on a child. And you can definitely not use violence on a child you're supposed to be the teacher to.

But deep inside I know, that if this was to happen while I was not a public teacher, but while I was a drama teacher, I wouldn't hold back.

I know that I'd use violence on a child in the surroundings of a drama lesson. And yes, the taste of this is very bitter on my toungue.

I've used violence once on a child during the drama lessons, but it was not on stage, and no one saw it. She wasn't hurt, maybe just a little scared. But I don't really regret it either, she provoced me. But I know that it was wrong of me.

Me being prone to violence is one of my biggest flaws. The older I've become the more hidden this flaw has become, but I've heard from my friends and my fiancé during different occassions that "I'm so violent, stop". It hurts me every time someone comments it, because I am aware of it, but it's hard to stop in time.

But considering where I was when I was 13 and an incredibly violent child, I've come a long way. I'm trying. And I considering the fact that I could stop in time, and not use violence on this child, a win.

Someday I will be free of my initial reaction to use violence. One day, I will be free.

Caring about what others think of you

Heyy you know this monkey brain thing, where we get anxious if we feel like we aren't following the pack's sense and we believe we're being alianated if we don't follow the stream?

Yes, that was up-to-date when we actually lived in packs and when you would literally starve to death and die if the pack abandoned you. But evolution hasn't caught up yet, and our brains are still telling us to follow the stream or, we will be abandoned, and die.

I can't advertise myself as someone who followed the stream, or the mass, in that many social ways when I grew up. I know many teenage girls (and women) battle with the anxiety that "breaking the norm" in any way delivers, and this is typically even more intense when you're a teenager. My brain has also been really bad at telling me to follow the norm, and I've, in many ways, wanted to break the norm. And I have done so, for the majority of my teenage years and even now, as an adult.

Anything from special interests to fashion to whatever.

And guess what? My brain is becoming even more shitty at telling me to care about what other people think.

I don't care what other people think of me.

This insight has grown over the past few years. I have barely any barriers left for what I post on Snapchat, for all the people following me to see. I just post, without thinking that the 14 people watching my stories might think I'm crazy. I just don't care if they think that. As long as my students nor my mum don't have access to my Snapchat I post almost anything there.

My barriers regarding Instragram has also lowered during the past year. I don't feel like keeping up any illusions. I don't care if people don't like me being personal or honest or just silly on my Instagram. I just... post shit.

Holy shit, I can see myself turning into my own mum. My mum doesn't get embarrassed by anything. Anything! I once asked her if she's never worried what others might think of her, and she laughed and said: You know what? I stopped caring what others think long time ago. They might think I'm wierd, but that's their loss. I don't care.

Have I been raised just to not give a shit, or is this just... a genetical thing where your brain doesn't feel like following the norm? (I'd probably die in the stone age from being abandoned by my pack lol).

Probably both.

And if I ever get to be a mother, I'll do my damn best to raise my own children to not care about others opinion on them. The older I get the more I respect my own mum and how she's raised me to have a really good self esteem.

More "Get to know me-tags" because I'm bored and have no imagination

1. Where did you grow up?

In a semismall place, with many neighbours, and then we moved when I was 11 years old to a big house but less neighbours. So I was quite lonely at our new house.

2. Where do you currently live?

In Helsinki, the capital of Finland.

3. Who is your first best friend?

Someone I'm still friends with? That'd be E. But V was my first true bestie, and that friendship went all down the drain.

4. How tall are you?

155cm

5.Dogs or Cats?

DONT MAKE ME CHOOSE 

6. Funniest moment throughout high school?

I take this as secondary school, age 13-15, and I don't have many "funny" memories from this time, but maybe when my flirting with a boy was not successful and I hurt him by accident. THAT was pretty funny.

7. What year were you born?

1995

8. Are you in/have you gone to college?

University

9. What is your favorite drink?

White Russian is a go for me, but also those ice cream drinks that's barely alcohole and mostly just soft ice yum

10. What is your spirit animal and why?

I would like to say wolf, but maybe it's a horse. An animal with prestige.

11. You’re wearing perfume, what scent is it?

CONFESSION. I have never ever worn perfume. I think it's unneccessary and expensive and uugh

12. Tea or Coffee?

Why not have BOTH??

13. What are your life goals?

To be happy. To be happy, goddamnit, I don't ask for more. Also, steady income would be great. Me accomplishing in the fields I want would be a dream. But happiness above all.

14. What sports do you play or have you played?

Have done: Floorball, badminton and ice skating. Still do: horseback riding

15. Have any books you read changed your life?

Change my life is maybe an exaggaration, but HP-series is a good one. Vingklippt ängel is another one. And the biggest physical reaction from the fanfic "in dreams you follow (but i dream in the dark)"

16. What is your favorite movie?

Can't choose one, but Your Name is in the top three.

17. Who are your favorite YouTubers?

I'm quite bad with keeping up with Youtubers and watching their videos. Katrin Berndt is the one I would recommend.

18. Do you speak any languages and how well?

Swedish, Finnish, English. Fluent.

19. Are you single or taken?

Taken.

20. What is your idea of your dream date?

Eat together and then fangirl (or well, fanboy) over certain series of course.

21. How long was your longest relationship?

4,5 years and counting.

22. How would you describe your fashion sense?

Alternative, never use jeans, black but also colours.

23. What is your go-to hairstyle?

A ponytail??

24. How many siblings do you have?

A brother

25. What is your go-to fast food order?

A burger? Okay, my guilty pleasure is the Triple Cheese burger tho!

26. Do you use PC or a Mac?

PC!!!!! 

27. Your most memorable vacation memory?

I have many many of those! But I may tell one from my childhood; me taking my toys with me on a little floater boat with my cousin and we play in the boat in the ocean outside a small island in the archipelago. The toys were the pegasus from Hercules, a killer whale and dogs. Man, we had fun!

28. What are your morning, evening routines?

Mornings: wake up, go to the computer, make coffee and breakfast, eat as I'm on the computer. If I'm in a hurry no computer.

Evenings: Computer, and then hug with fiancé and then sleep.

29. Do you have any bad habits?

Heh many. But maybe my addiction to my computer could be considered a bad habit?

30. Tell us one thing about you that we wouldn’t know?

My sexual awakening as a six year old innocent child was that of me watching Digimon, and seeing an humanoid dragon-thingy, and I fell in love with it. The humanoid dragon! Flamedramon is his name, look him up. I fall, even to this day, in love with fictional boys every now and then. My fiancé thinks it's cute..

Some work related stuff

You know what? I've been so damned spoiled when it comes to actual jobs and work. Like work to earn money.

So spoiled my old friend (not friend anymore) got envious of me. And it's not like I can't deny that I'm lucky.

I had my first summer job when I was 15, and it was my mum who got that work for me. I just did it.

When I was 17 I had a job at a radio broadcaster, and I was lucky as hell to get it. There where, what, over 1000 applications, and they chose me. ME! This is what got my old friend angry at me.

My dad asked me to do drama lessons for kids and he made sure the employer employd me. This gave me the first seat when the drama school searched for an employee to assist the drama lessons, and I was chosen. Heh, I remember one kid who asked why her big sister didn't get the job instead of me. I remember that I was flustered, and my boss just said: "She has more experience than your big sister". Ooof.

Destiny got me on-off work at TV for a year. That was so random. But very, very fun.

All this drama teacher stuff made me hot on the teacher market too. Headmasters love teachers with drama experience, I tell you. And I got the job as a teacher when I was 22 (!!), and I hadn't even finished university yet! Even if I got fired from my drama job, it didn't quite matter. I had something else now.

I do now work half time at a small restaurant, and while the job itself isn't fancy, I've been spoiled by my employer. Like I get to do my own stuff, like reading while getting paid. My employer always ask if I have something fun to do if there's not that many costumers when I arrive. She spoils me.

So. What does the future have in store for me? Where will I work a few years from now on? Hell do I know, but it'll probably be a fun ride.

My most scary movie experience as a child

Yesterday I set back again to get really think over the last post and how happy I was to read angst again, and I still truly am happy for all the angst, but when did I become so fascinated by angst that reading a well written story dripping in it gave me a psysical reaction in my body?

So I was thinking back and came to a conclusion that this has to be something one is born with. I mean, no one has ever taught me to like this, and I've loved angst since a very small age.

When I was 6/7 I watched a show called Digimon, and the best scene in the whole series (for me) was when the main character got bound to a pole and the enemy repetedly beat and clubbed his Digimon (his companion, that is), with intention to kill him.

I remember being to ecstatic about the scene that I could barely sit down. I just loved something in the helplessness of the main character and the torture of his beloved companion.

And this can't be anything taught to me. I can't remember what the ratio of genes vs society is when a child grows up and become a person with a personaity, but I remember that personality IS mostly genetic and born with. I can't think of a situation in my then very short life that would've made me like angst or taught me that angst is okay, as almost everything directed towards children (and young children that is) has a strong moral code. Happy ending, the good guys win.

The angst I like(d) was very specific toward torture, and mostly emotional torture, even as a child.

But angst out of that context scared me. I was midly traumatized when my mum was watching TV - I don't know if it was a documentary or movie - but a woman gave birth to a stillborn child, that died in the womb moments before it was born, and, oh my god, the woman's agonizing screams when she realize they're too late and her baby is dead are still drilled in my brain. I still remember that scene, how scared I was, how incredibly sad everything was.

I was just about seven when I saw that, and I was not prepared for such emotions. I was so scared of the mere thought of the dead baby. I mean, I was a baby just a few years prior and, oh man, that really messed me up.

I did alway listen to music before going to bed, and I had a CD of children's songs that I listened to, and there was one song about the tale of a frog turning into a prince. The lyrics went at one certain point like this: "han var en prins ändå" (he was despite all this a prince) but I heard it in my head as: "prinsen dog" (the prince died) and everytime that lyric came up I saw the dead baby in my head and I made myself scream inside my head so I wouldn't hear the "prins ändå", or "prinsen dog"as I heard it, because the dead baby could not be unseen. At some point I went up and skipped the whole song because it was way too heavy for me to even think about the dead baby.

I never told my parents how scared I was of the dead baby or the mother's screams. And that, my friends, is, and will forever be, the most scary experience I ever had watching movies. You can throw any horror movie at my face, any torture scene, anything, and nothing will move me and scare as much as a stillborn baby and the cries of its mother.