two ways to fight

I'm fighting a depression.
One of the ways that help me stave of the grey gloom is computer games (those that leaves some free to my own imagination).
Another way is tasty food.

I've left an order for three portions of Tandori Chicken.
It'll be food for days.

dangerous dancers, and beneficial hooligans

Okey. Let's examine a thing the police in Norrköping did recently, and the effects if the police-authorities are consistent.They estimated they would need 77 police officers to keep eyes on a dance festival for ten hours, and thus charged 708400 Swedish kronor (aproximately 100k USD) to give their permission to host the thing.
That's 920 kronor per police and hour.

To hold a football game (that is, soccer for you in the USA) with the more troublesome supporter clubs there might need to be as many cops to try to keep people in line, for about the same amount of time (it's not as much during the game as before and after) so they should charge the clubs for as much money to be allowed to host and participate in the games. Right?

Guess what.
Football clubs get about 75% discount, and they only have to pay for the police presence -during the actual game-. The hooligans usually don't go out to wreck shopping mall windows during the matches, but after.

Oh well.
Never mind my ramblings.

seriously bad

Ok, so I've very recently (that is, about 10 minutes before starting to write this) got confirmation that my situation is seriously bad.

Anybody who knows enough about feline biology knows that procreation for house-cats isn't a thoroughly pleasant activity for for the female. The one female feline fatale who have experience of such things that I share living quarters with -willingly and of her own accord- offered herself.

It made me run through a quick list of individual of compatible physiognomy that I could turn to.
First of in the list of people came my exes. None of them was found suitable to turn to, for various reasons.
Secondly came non-exes that I had shared a bed with ... and it was the same result there.
As for new experiences ... Right. There's a tale about the Little Red Riding-hood, heard it?
I don't want to try to change who I am, what I am, just to satisfy a pesky human need.
I've gone without seven years once, and I can do it again.

If I, despite all odds, would get any kind of offer from a visitor, the answer is "No. I mean it. Seriously. You'd end up with broken bones and torn flesh for starters, IF you survive." It's THAT bad.

Till Alfons Karabuda

Hej Alfons Karabuda

Får jag fråga:
Hur mycket vill du ha betalt för att din granne skall kunna ha dubbla kopior av sina semesterbilder?

Det är nämligen den lyxen som tillfaller dig som etablerad kompositör under CopySwedes beskydd.
Jag hade inte haft något som helst problem med de avgifter som CopySwede kan ta ut på tomma CD, DVD, flashminnen och hårddiskar om pengarna hade gått till att lyfta fram mindre kända artister som t.ex. Imaginatron med sin demoskiva DedicaTion <http://imaginatron.bandcamp.com/> (registrerad hos STIM och Kungligabiblioteket), eller aktivt verkande för grundläggande yttrandefriheter som att driva TOR-servrar.
Istället lägger CopySwede och stora immaterialrättsinnehavare sina pengar på att öka sina intäkter och förlänga copyright.

Fråga nummer två:
Hur stort värde tycker du att det finns i Disneys "Steamboat Willie" i dagens läge, och att ingen "rör den" annat än med Disneys godkännande?

Saken är den att trots att alla inblandade i skapandet av den filmen är sedan länge döda (snart 50 år), så är den filmen upphovsrättsskyddad. Om det inte finns något som helst kulturellt värde i att skaparna får betalt för den undrar jag varför du, som talesperson för Kulturskaparna, kan argumentera för att "Steamboat Willie" skall vara upphovsrätts skyddad, men inte större verk så som det producerat av till exempel Beethoven eller Händel.

sick

I don't know if I can honestly say I hate being sick, or merely dislike it a bunch.
It's no fun any way.

Reading interesting logs is a comfort in the isolation, though a small comfort.

Letters

What follows are a couple of letters that may or may not be read by their respective "recipient".

The reason I write them here and not in an e-mail or snail-mail is that ... I can't.

My mind and feelings for these people are much more complicated than the letters may indicate. I mostly write these to unburden my chest so to speak.

Anyway.

-----*-----

Hi.

How and where to begin this letter to you?

Perhaps with a bit of background? Seems fair. The first couple of times I met you, you and your companions intimidated me, though not intentionally from your side. At the same time I may have come across as a bit aloof and/or evasive. That's how I used to avoid potential harm, both physical and mental.

I know now that it was part an act from your side, and part my own insecurities that caused those first meetings to be no more than amicable.

I have matured since then, and my curiosity for you have grown.

Do I think we would work as a couple? Actually ... no. I do however want you to play a greater role in my life, and a chance for me to play a greater role in yours. Because I do think we both have a lot we could learn from one another, if we both dared lower our defences. I am willing to take the first step.

-----*-----

Ello.

You know what? I miss you. I miss the person I learned to love deeply and passionately.

When I look at what you've become, all I can see is an empty shell of what you used to be.
Sometimes I wish I could cry for what you, from my perspective, do to try to fill that void. Because from over here it doesn't look pretty.
I'm not going to stop being a friend, stop talking with you, but unless I see some positive change I don't know how much of a friend I can continue to be to you.
I know it's not easy for you all the time, and I've tried my darnedest to give you support ... but friendship is a two way street, and I can't honestly say you've done much for me lately. I don't think I have asked for much either, but even the little that I have asked for ... well, it was on your conditions, or not at all. Which kind of spoiled the whole caboodle for me.

-----*-----

I love you, and I despise you.
You have a close to perfect body to fall for, in my eyes. You're smart. You've got interests and hobbies that I share. You're selfish or at least egocentric.
I know and respect that you don't have any kind of feelings for me at all. That however makes it no less painful for me when you publicly jest about my feelings for you. I respect your relationships, and your monogamy. Can you respect my feelings for you, even if they're not mutual?
I'm not the strongest of persons in any way, but at times it seems you have even less spine than me. Perhaps that is why you want to be the centre of attention as much as possible? Why it's your ideas and plans that should get all the help and assistance right now, while everybody else should feel bad about not leaping quickly enough to your aid.

-----*-----

who else to write a letter to?
well, none today at least.

to whom it may concern

Ok.

So, you chewed me out because of what I've written on facebook.
Fine.
I deserved that.
However, did you even for a second stop to think about WHY I wrote those things on facebook, and didn't tell you directly. Is it because you only read them because you're a friend of a friend?
Considering that we meet at least once a week, and it's been months since I sent a friends-request on facebook to you ... mmh, yea.
Let's just start with that one.

Secondly, want to hear face to face what I think about anything, you've got to do three things.
STOP (with what else you're doing).
LISTEN (to what I have to say and not just hear it)
and lastly
THINK (before you reply or act on what I said).
Three hard things for people on the go to do, I know, but if you can't do those three things, I don't see any point in even trying to tell you what I think.

Do you think that I've made things difficult for you?
Sure, I may have caused some inconvenience for you.
However, either you're underestimating the importance of my good will,
or you're overestimating the effect of my ire.
I'm not sure which would be the most flattering of the two.

I am certain you'll contest both those standpoints.
If the effect of my ire isn't as great as you've made it seem when you berated me, then why bring it up? Also, in such a case, then my good will isn't important either.
If my good will is important to you, then why on earth would I have typed those things I published?

It would be nice if you could sit down and write a reply,
read it through twice,
then start with a blank page and write it again before posting.

In mourning

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: - Knowing when to come in out of the rain; - Why the early bird gets the worm; ... - Life isn't always fair; - And maybe it was my fault. Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies, don't spend more than you can earn and adults, not children, are in charge. His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault. Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust, by his wife Discretion, his daughter Responsibility, and his son, Reason. He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers - I Know My Rights, I Want It Now, Someone Else Is To Blame and I'm A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, do nothing

no letter

I had planned to write a letter to various explaining how I feel about ... well lots of things. But I can't since I now have a co-worker sitting next to me working with his own stuff, but still talking to me. Which is slightly annoying.

Oh well. I'll just work with what I can (ie, pure data-entry and no image manipulation).

net access!

I have net access today!

It means, I can work. I can't to all I'm supposed to, since I refuse to use Microsoft Paint to edit images.
Could I do the editing with that cra-- that software? Yes, but I'd so much rather have access to a computer less than 5 years old, updated, and work with GIMP.

Yesterday I spent the whole day pretending to work, while doing all manner of other stuff that wasn't work.
I don't think anybody of them noticed.
It's a bit of gamble to write about it here on the web-log, since the boss, theoretically anyway, find and read it. If he does, he deserves that and some other not so fancy truths.
One of the other truths is that I am here not because I need to, only because I want to. I've actually got other possible jobs lined up and waiting. The day I tire of being here I'm gone.

no work done

I'm at my job trying to work. Please note the operative word "trying".
Not much success there though. My mind is ... non-cooperative in respect of work. Maybe if I had a workstation away from co-workers and customers I -might- be able to focus a bit better.
Most likely, I wouldn't be able to focus any better, or worse, if I was sitting on my own.

I think I know what the problems are, but ... no idea how to deal with 'em.
Maybe a couple of stiff drinks would help me forget them for a while. It won't solve the problems, but at least they won't gnaw away at my shreds of sanity.

so many ideas ...

I have so many ideas during a day that it's ... well, I don't even try to keep track of 'em.
There is however one big problem with them. They're gone too quickly.
It's most commonly because I don't get time to make a note of them.

There's also the problem of doing something of the few ideas that do stick around long enough for me to remember them after ten minutes. I'm not allowed to take the time to do anything about them while at work, and when I'm at home, there's other distractions.

The very very very few ideas that do get the time and energy for start-up ... usually gets scrapped without anybody else getting to know about them since they're not up to my expected quality. Because, you know, they should be as close to perfect from start and throughout the process as humanly possible.

A failure that nobody have seen and can not find ... is not a failure.
And I may not in any way, for any reason, fail.
At least, that's what grade-school taught me.

Pointless

ok.

You're here for a reason. It may not be a very good reason, but there is one.
If you're here because you wanted to learn something about me ... well, you will.
If you're here for any other reason ... you'll learn something about me anyway.

My life, the way I see it, is Pointless.
Also, I suck.

Why do I say this?
Simply because, I know everything there is to know about self-improvement, and while I do want to be a better person with a better life and a better self-image ... I don't even TRY to do jack schitt about it.
Which has to be the most pointless and pathetic thing you've read today.
Hey, I can't even TRY to take my own life.

So, you're just going to the simple thing, the easy thing, and surf on to another website and think nothing more of that whacked out nut-job who kept on rambling about how worthless he was. Because, you know, taking a few seconds to write a few words of encouragement is beyond your level of care. I mean, it won't gratify yourself, so you won't do it. But who am I kidding, you didn't even reach this paragraph.

Do I seem cynical?
You bet.
Because that's what life in general have taught me is the only way to survive and stay relatively sane.
I've tried to reach out and break the slow spiral down into despondency and misery. Guess what usually happens.
Yea, I get kicked down.

After being kicked down enough times, you start to wonder if it's really worth trying to get back up.
You also learn to see at a long distance which fights you have a chance to win, and when you WILL lose no matter what, and you start to avoid them both. So you only fight the fights you know you should win.

Me, I've gone one step further.
I don't fight.
I give in, without a fight.
It makes the collateral damage I leave behind afterwards so much more ... thoughtful. What's the most "fun" is saying "I could have told you so, but you never bothered to ask. So, it's all your mess."

Sure, I don't have that many friends.
Acquaintances, co-gamers, co-workers and such, sure, but not that many friends.
A friend is somebody I can call any time at day or night about any subject, and be able to speak my mind (or heart as the case might be), and they'd be willing and able to listen.
Those that are closest to being such friends are willing, but they're not able. The main reason they're not able is because they can't listen, can't shut up long enough to just sit there and listen.

There's also another contributing factor to this my current state of mind.
Serotonin.
Because of lack of stability and structure in my life I do not eat my serotonin elevating medication the way I'm supposed to. I do not fucking care, because who the fuck cares if I live or die beside my immediate family?
At most three people, and then mainly because somebody they could depend on for support is gone.

So yea, for my own sake, my existence is pointless.

in waiting

It's still hours left until I'm going to meet with a bunch of strangers.
I'm feeling apprehensive, but also oddly calm.

I don't know what will happen during the get-together.
If I'll be welcomed or shunned.
If I'll find a comfortable spot to sleep, or have to leave early.

Those things, and more, doesn't matter.
I will be there, and if they find me lacking in anyway, be it clothing, experience or appearance, then I say it is their loss. I know my worth, and I can guess my potential. If they ... well never mind.

The one thing that does bother me right now, is my meds.
I'm sure they (or rather, one of 'em) will mess things up for me if all else goes peachy.

taken by surprice

I got taken by weather-surprise a couple of minutes ago.

I usually have a sense of what the weather will be like for the day. If there's open, outdoors air directly available.
If there's a no risk for downfall, a low risk or high risk or confirmed risk, and if it'll be light, heavy or intermittent.

That weather-sense was pointing at "no to minimal" when we had a downpour.
Sense have perked up to "low risk of light downfall, which is more accurate since it's now a light rain outside.

I don't think I've been this surprised by weather since I found out mom had cancer. (Long story for another time.)

I feel ... blinded.
A sense that I've been able to depend on is apparently askew.

I need to get in a better headspace.

Single since a week

So.
I'm single since a week back.

Not something I'm proud of, nor feel ashamed of.
The way the relationship ended could have been better, and the reasons likewise.
It was for the best for us both.
Better some pain now than worse pain later.
And yes, it would have ended sooner or later, and the longer the relationship had lasted, the worse would it have been when it ended.
So, I called an end to it after one and a half year, which was about six to nine months too late, imo.

So, what have I done this last week?
Trying to find stability and balance. To find something positive to focus on.
I tried with MineCraft, and it's great.
The posibileties are ... enormous. Your imagination is the only thing setting a limit to what you can make in that game and ... well ... I have well-planned ideas, but no energy to even begin to try achive them.

why ending a relationship

Soon I'll be a single man again.
Yes, I've had a girlfriend for some time, and it's been not a good time.

It's been nice too have somebody to turn to.
It's less nice too have a girlfriend that you can't turn to.
If the girlfriend can't even begin to understand what troubles you.

Cuius Bono?

"Cuius bono?" is Latin. Big surprise there I gather. It means "Whose good?" or "Benefiting who?"

That's the big question here. Who will benefit (the most) from this weblog? You, me, or will both suffer from keeping this up to date and being up to date what's written?
I am hard-pressed to see any good coming from me keeping this weblog, but I've been persuaded to keep one.

If you find me and/or my weblog being a waste of time don't come complaining to me, but to those responsible for me keeping one. Namely
Anna Troberg and Keiju.
I'll link to them later.