tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31386241229521370452024-02-07T04:09:51.168+01:00HMSunnyMHI'm Sunniva! The point is that I'll tell you about almost everything I care about (or hate), and give of my experience (if there is anything like that). Hope you enjoy!HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.comBlogger87125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-41228087272335367012011-07-02T17:16:00.002+02:002011-07-02T17:37:02.424+02:00In ShockI'm in shock right now. All the feelings from 1,5 years ago, when I was depressed, are now coming back. I just saw him, my former therapist. And, in the irony of life, I've seen 10 episodes of <span style="font-style:italic;">In Treatment</span> the last couple of days. And today, while walking to the supermarket just half an hour ago, I saw him. Fuck.<br /><br />My therapist was a good guy. I really, really liked him. But honestly, I'm frightened right now. Not because he did anything odd when I saw him, but just because. You know, I had major panic attacks every time I had to go to his office. It was just... I don't know. Scary. He did great, but I still can't get over the fact that it all scared me loads.<br /><br />I was walking. Down the last little hill before I you get to the supermarket. There were some cars coming up the hill, with some space in between. Just at a sudden, I saw a familiar face in the car. I always follow every car I pass on this way with my eyes, and I smile at them. Suddenly I realized who I saw. I couldn't believe it. I don't even know how to put this happening into words. But yeah. He smiled, I think. I don't know if he knew who I was, but maybe. I'm not sure if I've changed much in 1,5 years, I really don't. But suddenly I was like "Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Fuck. What do I do now?" And then I had to relax myself, telling me to breathe and not to panic. Yeah, that worked fine...<br /><br />Damn, I won't get depressed again now! I was thinking about seeing the school councilor at UWC, but I don't know. I'm fine, ain't I? There's nothing wrong me, right?<br /><br />No, I'm not sure. I <span style="font-style:italic;">am</span> fine, I trust you. But still. My relationship with father sucks, and yeah. But I don't know. I've come to believe that all artists have to be a bit mad. I'll easily confess that I'm a bit mad, but still. Is there anything more? I don't know. See, on one side I'd like to be really happy and to have no problems. On the other side I won't let that ruin my possibilities of becoming a great artist and performer. No, I don't know.<br /><br />Don't freak out, Sunniva, you'll be okey.<br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4WJzg4knu0c" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Until We Bleed covered by Meghan Tonjes</span>HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-78887394587630646972011-05-04T21:09:00.002+02:002011-05-04T21:24:27.050+02:00To Everyone Who Dislikes HomosexualitySo, I'm off to UWC! My life has improved dramatically since whenever I posted last time. I just wanted to say that. Starting August I'll spend the next two years at a fantastic school: Armand Hammer United World College of the American West. You should definitely check it out! The Norwegian homepage of the UWC organization is <a href="http://www.uwc.no">this</a>, and my school's homepage you can find <a href="http://www.uwc-usa.org">here</a>. Now go take a look, darling!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.city-data.com/forum/members/anomoly-252771-albums-northern-new-mexico-pic32450-united-world-college-las-vegas-nm.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 631px; height: 480px;" src="http://www.city-data.com/forum/members/anomoly-252771-albums-northern-new-mexico-pic32450-united-world-college-las-vegas-nm.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Armand Hammer United World College of the American West (UWC-USA)</span><br /><br />Now that is what I call a school!<br /><br />Anyhow, when at UWC I know I'm going to meet people who dislikes or just hate homosexuality and homosexuals. As I'm gay myself, it will hurt when someone might say "You're a sinner!" right at my face. But when you start being unfriendly yourself in such a situation, you'll never get anywhere. That's why I'm doing the opposite.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"Why are you gay? I don't like that. It's unnatural, and I won't accept it!"</span><br />"Well, I accept you. It's OK for me that you don't like gay people. But can you say that you don't like me, although you barely know me? If you try to get to know me, and you still don't like me, that's fine with me. My goal in life isn't to be liked. My goal in life is to be <span style="font-style:italic;">me</span> and to be <span style="font-style:italic;">free</span>. If you want to get to know me, despite the fact that I fall in love with other women, I'd really like that. But I hope you won't judge me right off because you found out that I'm gay, and just leave it with that. Try to get to know me, and find out if I'm as horrible as you believe."<br /><br />Live in peace, not hate.<br /><iframe width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/A6s49OKp6aE?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Claude Debussy - Arabesque No 1</span>HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-31835513036109981812011-02-19T23:28:00.003+01:002011-02-19T23:58:20.774+01:00That Fucking BloodI know you people don't see me often, but whatever. I got a life. Impressed? So yeah. I'm sorry, I don't want to be mad at you. I just want to be mad at someone. Do you know who's stupid? My father. He's kinda a dickhead. And as I'm way too gay, I'm allergic to dickheads. Is me+father=good then true? Didn't think so either.<br /><br />Sometimes my father just gets on my nerve. He can be so arrogant, and I bet he believes he's just the good the world needs. Mind you, I know how stupid this sounds like. Everybody hates their parents sometimes. But when you go angry to bed for the fourth time this week, there's something wrong. It can't be right at least. He does deserve my harsh words to come.<br /><br />OK, what is really wrong with him? Well, he believes he's this superb environmentally friendly person. Which he's not. The only reason he can find for actually dividing the trash into paper, plastic, food and waste is because of his wife, who for some reason actually cares. Maybe she just wants to be a "good" person. But whatever. My stepmother is cool enough, at least sometimes. She's not worth caring that much about, at least not right now. Anyways, why does my father even try to care about the environment? Except that his wife might think he's more sexy while throwing the paper into the paper basket, he's got no reason. Maybe he wants to please me? Nope. Not everything is about me, you know.<br /><br />Another thing that makes my father stupid, is how he interacts with his (step-)children. He wants to be oh so good, say positive things to them and be nice. He sounds so fake. Believe me, he won't exactly win an Oscar in the nearest future. Not even Juilliard could make him good. He's untruthful, and don't even care whether he says something that makes sense or not. It's just... wrong. Sorry.<br /><br />What I wish the most that my father would do better, is to not pick the wrong fights. He can talk half an hour with my little brother because he (understandably enough) doesn't wish to kill himself in the form of school. My little brother is amazing, I tell you that. But of course he shouldn't do nothing but school when he's only in 8th grade! He is 13 for God's sake! But my father still doesn't think my brother is doing good enough. He is. He doesn't even know it himself, but he sure is.<br /><br />When a parent is arguing about a chocolate or a school assignment, instead of caring about what really is the matter, that is a problem. That's what my father does. It just makes him look stupid. Even I believe he's stupid now.<br /><br />My father makes me hate him. It's not my fault. And I hate my "blood connection" to him. Even though he's my biological father, doesn't mean that he acts like a father should. And while I've got way too much to do, and can't be home to take care of my brother so much, I feel scared. Scared for what my baby brother fears, what makes him sad in life. I know that he also has a problem with dad, in some way or another. If I could only be around him as much as I wish, and look after him. My brother is my love. All I fear is him not being OK.<br /><br />Maybe I'm scared of my father. Or maybe I just hate him. One or the other. I want to tell him I'm gay. But he doesn't deserve it. He really doesn't deserve it, <span style="font-style:italic;">at all</span>. He's just stupid. Fuck him.<br /><br />Do I need to talk to somebody again?HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-58900157337266046112011-01-20T21:40:00.002+01:002011-01-20T22:27:56.309+01:00Teardrops falling on my head<span style="font-style:italic;">Wash away the thoughts inside<br />That keep my mind away from you<br />No more love and no more pride<br />And thoughts are all I have to do</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lfc1byVFlY1qgvfbio1_400.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lfc1byVFlY1qgvfbio1_400.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />http://xxxsimone.tumblr.com/<br /><br /><br />Right now I'm listening to Morning Bell/Amnesiac by Radiohead. There's this... Wooden drum, or maybe a bass guitar. In the far background. It sounds like heartbeat. If my heart would beat that ordinary, I would be amazed.<br /><br />I carry a lot of shit. A lot of baggage. For some reason. There is a reason, of course. But it's a curse, so don't tell anyone. I still try to cry sometimes. It isn't very efficient, I can trust you. Maybe I'm only able to cry when there's somebody around? Actually, I can fake to cry. But I can't gather my mind and lose a tear or two.<br /><br />I. Am. Happy. Did you know that? Fuck, now it seems as if I believe everybody reading this is stupidity himself. I'm sorry. But I <span style="font-style:italic;">am</span> happy. At least when the world is somewhat good. I think I like being happy. It's somewhat comforting. But who cares for me now? I can't seek attention by being happy all the time. Or, I can get attention, but... You don't get that feeling when others feel sorry for you. I'm not even sure if I like that feeling. But I kinda miss being depressed. Bad sign?<br /><br />Oh, what crap I've been writing down for the past two years. Scenario after scenario... Which none of then ever happened. Maybe for the good, though.<br /><br />I'm messaging with this girl. She's really cool! And we actually have things in common (you didn't see that one coming, did you?). It feels good to have that. I think I'll call it friendship. You don't have to physically meet a person to be friends, right? No. She's a good person.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Every day is a day, no matter what. <span style="font-style:italic;">No matter what.</span> I want to write a movie script.</span>HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-77206959344982945902010-12-09T23:25:00.004+01:002010-12-09T23:59:24.948+01:00Honestly<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgweiOYlCW362QZFxRE7hncYl2kiDCtpOhG9NCKWXc3YWAGBEKSkw_HzExNVM3cAc_Cmik70kNf7AZgaMx2RPlZ684-GSyuWSNwhL1Ot9iG2FpMX5qWiOIJG4vxKx3_WZLqrjG8UxqEvV0/s1600/a+new+start.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgweiOYlCW362QZFxRE7hncYl2kiDCtpOhG9NCKWXc3YWAGBEKSkw_HzExNVM3cAc_Cmik70kNf7AZgaMx2RPlZ684-GSyuWSNwhL1Ot9iG2FpMX5qWiOIJG4vxKx3_WZLqrjG8UxqEvV0/s400/a+new+start.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548814472280206274" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The Las Vegas skyline, copyrighted</span><br /><br />Maybe everything is a lie. Maybe we aren't who or what we are. Maybe it's just not how the world is supposed to be put together.<br /><br />Fuck it. I can't remember how it is to be depressed. Or, I do know how it feels like, I just can't say whether I'm depressed or not right now. That is the problem. Knowing is always the problem. It's not just enough to think, to believe. You have to know the truth. At least that's how I work. Nothing can be proved right or wrong, but you have to <span style="font-style:italic;">know</span> to be certain.<br /><br />Maybe it is so that the depression is just something that comes every late autumn and stays for a while? If the world wasn't that confusing... Then I might survive another winter. With snow. And Christmas. And family. What a joy that would be. Well, not really...<br /><br />I don't want it to get back onto me. The suicide thoughts. The bad habits of not doing anything, feeling anything or being anything. I want to survive this winter. Right now, today, there are so many things to actually be here for. Be me for. <br /><br />I don't want to cry.<br />I don't want to not be able to cry.<br />I don't want to feel unworthy.<br />I don't want to be silent.<br />I don't want to open the car door when my grandfather is driving.<br />I don't want to be afraid.<br />I don't want to lie to myself.<br />I don't want to be helpless.<br />I don't want to not wanting to feel.<br />I don't want to loose my great support.<br />I don't want to suppress my feelings.<br />I don't want to not being able to smile.<br />I don't want to hurt you.<br />I don't want to act cold and heartless.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I don't want everybody else to feel sorry for me.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/xB-d9sjK1NY/0.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/xB-d9sjK1NY/0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I wonder how it is to be a victim of incest.HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-945560559354424472010-09-23T08:41:00.003+02:002010-09-23T08:59:16.463+02:00So LuckyI didn't think life was this hard. It is, though. Or. This Friday my whole class went on a sleepover together. It's weird. Because they respect me. I could go to bed at 11.30 PM – live my life.<br /><br />I came out to 23 of my 25 classmates this Friday. We had this game where you had to tell a secret for every Smarties you ate, and the type of secret depending on the color of the Smarties you took. Red means "love". And of course I had to pick a red one.<br /><br />"Hm..." I said. At first everybody was talking and stuff, but at last the ruler of the game got everyone to shut up. "OK," I continued, "My name is Sunniva, and I haven't thought any heterosexual thoughts in two years." <span style="font-style:italic;">Everybody</span> went silent. <span style="font-style:italic;">Silence.</span> My point of telling my name in the beginning was to be funny, AA meeting lookalike. That didn't happen...<br /><br />I was just like "What the fuck?", because nobody said anything. It was just silent in the room, and everybody looked shocked. Didn't they understand? Shit. <span style="font-style:italic;">Shit, shit, SHIT!</span><br /><br />Somehow the ice was broken, and people started asking me things and stuff. Praising... something, I answered and stuff. But everybody was shocked, and that's what shocked me as well. When I came out to my friends, they didn't look that shocked. Trust me, it was <span style="font-style:italic;">bad</span>. But hilarious while looking back.<br /><br />God, I'm glad it's over. I've been thinking about coming out to my class, because I want to be true to myself and everybody around me. But I didn't want it to be like "Now we have to be serious, and I'm going to tell you my biggest secret ever!". No, I wanted it to fit, and it did. I'm glad. Really, really happy.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Sometimes the world doesn't end, even though you might think otherwise.</span>HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-90846704380928100942010-09-03T23:03:00.003+02:002010-09-03T23:29:46.102+02:00Feeling Close To NothingHi y'all. How you doin'? Oh, I'm fine, thank you. Smileyface.<br /><br />A new chapter of my life started three weeks ago. I started at a new school, with completely different people. My real life started. My true life.<br /><br />I'm really, really happy. Because that school is like magic. I think that if I didn't attend exactly <span style="font-style:italic;">this</span> school, I'd be really depressed right now. Really. But every day these new 25 people in my class make me smile. I just have to. Because they're worth it.<br /><br />Still, the happiness isn't real. Because every day I think that there's something wrong, something that shouldn't be. For some reason. First day of school I asked my new teacher where to go to be assigned to a psychologist. The first day. The first day of the new life. The new beginning. But I think I couldn't have done otherwise. That would've been stupid.<br /><br />I feel there's something missing. Because when I think really, really hard on what my life contains while on the train at 7.15 in the morning, I can't find the positive. Or, I can find the positive, but I can't find the positive <span style="font-style:italic;">life</span>. It hurts, I can assure you. Maybe it's just how it's supposed to be.<br /><br />Is this how I was thinking and acting before? Because I sometimes feel this great deja vú. It might not be the case, maybe this is just how I'm supposed to be, but maybe it isn't. And that's why I wanted help. I don't want my new life to start with sorrow and negativity. I think I was brave, though.<br /><br />The answers I find don't seem reasonable. Because I have no idea what is happening anymore. Maybe that is a sign from my brain to seek help. At least I managed to do so. I follow my heart. At least sometimes. I hope it is worth it.<br /><br />I might be in love. Because she is really cute, pretty and lovely. She's actually kinda perfect, even though I realize she ain't. But I really like her. Did you know I've never had a boy- or girlfriend? Like, a romantic relationship. That's what it's called. And I'm a virgin, and I haven't ever been drinking. For me that is courage and truthfulness. <br /><br />Did you know that if you take the first sentence in all the sections above (except the first one of course) make out a poem?<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">A new chapter of my life...</span> <br />Started three weeks ago<br />I'm really, <br />Really happy<br />Still, <br />The happiness isn't real<br />I feel there's <br />Something <br />Missing<br />Is this how I was thinking and acting before?<br />The answers I find <br />Don't seem reasonable<br />I might <br />Be in love</span><br /><br />I like it. At least a little. I don't know what to do with myself. I cried today. Because I read some of what I wrote here on the blog for about half a year ago. I was totally broken. Devastated, horrified, scared.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">The worst part is that I miss it. A little too much.</span>HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-48317783684919133432010-08-12T23:22:00.003+02:002010-08-12T23:44:28.587+02:00SurpriseYou people deserve a happy blogpost. You think you get it? Get excited, because you might! Yeah, I'm not gonna join the commercial business (hopefully)...<br /><br /><object width="480" height="25"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yz8uvwzHtxk?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yz8uvwzHtxk?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">The Only Exception - Paramore</span><br /><br />You know what? I. Am. Happy. Yes, I said it: <span style="font-style:italic;">I am happy.</span> Now you might think "What the heck?!", but trust me: I'll be back to normal tomorrow. Probably. Yeah, I don't know. But that's what I'm used to; My life brings ups and downs, the key is to manage to live with them. God, I really sound like a psychological mess...<br /><br />Yeah, that was the thing I was thinking about. Happiness. Why am I happy? Because on Monday, three and a half days from now, I'll start a new year. A new decade as well. Maybe. Because I'm starting at a new school, in a new city, with new people and new meanings. Stavanger Cathedral School, that's the school. Hopefully it'll make miracles happen. <span style="font-style:italic;">Hopefully.</span> You never know.<br /><br />I'm so excited! After about 6 years of boredom in the public school system, I'm finally starting a "real" school. Yes, it <span style="font-style:italic;">is</span> a public school, but it's a real school. A good school. <span style="font-style:italic;">Different.</span> Hopefully people are weird, funny, a bit crazy, and really smart. Something similar to me. God, <span style="font-style:italic;">what a school</span>! I'm excited.<br /><br />Fuck, if the school sucks, I'm finished. Really. But it would be a sensation if it does. Suck, I mean. Because all the evidence says it doesn't. So... No, but I'm excited. I don't give a shit that I got to take the train for half an hour each way every day. <span style="font-style:italic;">I don't care!</span> Because that school is in my heart. Yeah, and I gotta prepare to live in the real city where you have to take the subway for half an hour on your way to Uni or work. It's called life. In the city, I mean.<br /><br />Yeah, I am happy right now. I just got to find out what to wear. You know what? I might have some sort of eye for fashion. Yeah, what a <span style="font-style:italic;">shock</span>. But I might, I tell you. So... Let's hope this school year won't suck. I don't even care if you pray for me, as long as you don't tell me. You won't get that permission very often, so if you care about that sort of stuff, you better get at it right away.<br /><br />I'm gonna sleep now. Sometimes I'm such a 25 year old. Like, a teenager and smart at the same time. Kind of. OK, bye now. Now this sounds like a conversation on some sort of IM. Why didn't AOL become popular in Norway? Whatever. This is how I think when I'm about to fall asleep.<br /><br />I still love that song. It's on repeat. Thanks, honey, for wanting me to learn it to you on piano. Sweet dreams.HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-83167560370820217912010-08-10T23:24:00.003+02:002010-08-11T00:03:06.027+02:00We Are All Weird<object width="480" height="25"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/78iNV6Au-Wg&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/78iNV6Au-Wg&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">21 Guns - Green Day (American Idiot Cast Version)</span><br /><br />This is my I-feel-horrible-and-need-some-emo-music-to-get-over-it-all music. It's pretty fabulous, right? When in New York in the end of June, my family and I saw this amazing musical where the song's taken from. I still love it. Their version of <span style="font-style:italic;">Before the Lobotomy</span> was fabulous too, and very touching. But yeah... I suck at changing subjects.<br /><br />Now I'm listening to <span style="font-style:italic;">Die Polizei - Kaizers Orchestra.</span> You should check it out on Spotify, YouTube or wherever. It's lovely. Even though you don't understand all the lyrics (it's in three different languages all at once; Norwegian, German and English), it just is. Really, really good.<br /><br />I really haven't told you anything except throwing my sappy songs over you. You're trapped, and then you vanish. I wonder how it is to forgotten. To not exist, even though you do. It must suck.<br /><br />You know what? I hate my father. Right now I really, <span style="font-style:italic;">really</span> hate him. Even more than I hate my grandfather. And it ain't easy to hate anyone more than I hate my grandfather, at least not when he hasn't done that much of a damage to the world. Or, at least not to the world's world. But he's destroyed my world. They both have, really.<br /><br />Does anyone know what's almost as hypochondria, but you're afraid of something bad happening instead? Maybe it's just anxiety... But that's what my father's got. Or so I believe. He thinks I'm going to die of a heart attack when I'm swimming across a rather small lake. With a life jacket. Right next to my cousin at 14, also covered in a life jacket. Yep, anxiety.<br /><br />But now I'm happy, no matter how emotional this music is. Talking to hilarious friends via Facebook chat is just genius. Politicians are the funniest. At least those in my liberal, loveable Venstre (Left). No, now I ended up happy. Well, that's good, I guess. Thank god.<br /><br />Did you know I'm creative? I think I'll post my US holiday video here when it's done. It's played with this <span style="font-style:italic;">amazing</span> piece of music in the background. Love it.<br /><br /><a href="http://open.spotify.com/track/1jJci4qxiYcOHhQR247rEU"><br />Listen to it here</a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Kids - MGMT</span><br /><br />Weird.<br />Cool though.HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-12525412399545287682010-08-04T22:20:00.004+02:002010-08-04T22:46:24.960+02:00Horny (My Apologies)Being horny makes me so fucking happy! Like, it's just to get it on, and I'll smile and be confident. Me like.<br /><br />Fuck, now I regret writing that. So, for the next half an hour I'm gonna pretend I don't know anyone of you reading this, even though I know too many of you... Yeah.<br /><br />Seriously, I could need a girlfriend right now. Not just for sex, no seriously, just for having that special one. But lonely wolf ain't got anyone. Fuck. Didn't I mention I swear too much when I write? Honestly, I almost never swear. At least not in Norwegian. But when you're writing to yourself in English, I bet it's kinda like having a split personality. Yeah, interesting...<br /><br />But yeah, the case: I want love. Or at least a crush. And right now it seems like I'm the only one within the radius of a couple of miles that ain't got no girlfriend. Not that I know <span style="font-style:italic;">that</span> many people that are looking for any <span style="font-style:italic;">girl</span>friend, but you get what I mean. Damn. Do you notice I'm kinda happy right now? It's not a super-mega-terrabyte serious post, this one. Or, maybe it is. Maybe I'm just fucking up my feelings (not the dirty way, you pervert) and compressing them into a small little box so I can be happy for once.<br /><br />Yeah. I told you I end up happy when I'm horny. I just saw this weird, but still cool (and very, <span style="font-style:italic;">very</span> sexy) movie this evening.<span style="font-style:italic;">And Then Came Lola</span>. It's very weird, and I kinda ended up being very angry at the maker because she used repetition (ain't that what I'm doing as well when I make these slide show/movie type o' things?) all the time. Annoying. But I still couldn't leave it.<br /><br />That probably says more about me than the movie... (Get a life, girl!)<br /><br />So... Anymovie. I'm so confused. Wait, I can't talk about mental problems when I am in this state condition. That sounded weird. What I was saying (now for the third time...), is that I wish I had a girlfriend. Why ain't I got a girlfriend? Well... I'm probably too dorky, nerdy and weird for that to happen. But I can wish, right? Okay, that sounds even more weird. Fuck.<br /><br />I'll keep my hopes up for Upper Secondary. When I say that, I really sound young. I am young. I'm not more than freakin' 15. But I think like I'm 25. Or... Not today. Yeah, split personality... Let's gather around and pray that HMSunnyMH will have a girlfriend in the nearest future. Maybe I <span style="font-style:italic;">should</span> become a Christian. Yeah, now I really sounds like an annoying teenager. Fuck.<br /><br />OK, I'm done with this. Now I'll listen to my sexy (though mostly weird) French music. Welcome to my life... This song is really sexy, though. It's musical porn. Yep, I invented that. Now get a life, you reader. Or writer. I bet I said it mostly to myself. I'm so cool; Talking to myself, and even writing to myself for everyone to read.<br /><br />Over and out.<br /><br />The sexy music, by the way (I bet you've heard it before, but I just heart this song, haha):<br /><object width="480" height="25"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wgacX35zBck&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wgacX35zBck&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"></embed></object>HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-63909843015776750812010-07-28T13:52:00.006+02:002010-07-28T14:25:21.183+02:00Swiss Chocolate Is Better Than LifeFuck. I just ate the last chocolate. Real, fantastic <span style="font-style: italic;">Swiss</span> chocolate. Fuck.<br /><br />I feel for putting up a picture right now. So I'll scroll through iPhoto and find the most depressing, unedited picture I can find. Editing isn't gonna do it. Because then it's fake. And a fake world willed with fake stuff and fake people, that's a world that sucks.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4086/4836986575_e1df168039_b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1024px; height: 683px;" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4086/4836986575_e1df168039_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Weird picture from Las Vegas, on the top of the Stratosphere Tower. If fixing your camera is editing, then it's edited. Yeah, I know nothing about taking pictures. At least very little. But I'm too creative to not give it a try. So I snapped during my 3 weeks vacation in the US. This was very informative, right? Yeah, bye. And yes, I took the picture. No copyright. 'Cause it was pretty cool, actually. So, yeah...<br /><br />So... My life, you ask? Not as crappy as it could be. Except that I'm soon to be hating almost everybody in my family. Not in a emo teenager way, but in a serious way. Yeah, that sounded <span style="font-style: italic;">so</span> serious. Totally aware. So... How's life doing for the internet? I hate holidays.<br /><br />People say I'm lucky. Hell yeah, I'm freakin' terrabyte lucky! But that doesn't mean I got to like my relatives, does it? Maybe I'm abusive. Because I come with them on expensive vacations, even though I really don't deserve it. But who, at the age of 15, deserve two really big and crazy vacations within one summer holiday? I've toured the US, and now I'm touring quite a part of Europe as well. I'm so fortunate and lucky, right?<br /><br />This should make me happy. Or shouldn't it? Isn't that what people crave for – money? Is it so that people don't want to be happy? Or is that just shit, what I'm saying? But can you be happy with loads of money and expensive holidays? Nope. Sorry, but you can't.<br /><br />I sound like a total bitch. I complain, I nag, I'm disrespectful. Sorry, but I'm not in the mood. To be different, I mean. Mean Girls. I am so confusing today. I bet the antibiotics is the one to blame, or just the bad cold I've got.<br /><br />Yeah, and to you, my father: You can't make me love you more even though you try to be so kind and caring. I'm used to have bad colds. All I want is it to be gone. But I'm patient. I know I'll have to get past a couple of rough nights where I can't sleep, because I've been here before. I don't care how much love you got, because I know it ain't helping. It's just annoying me. And angry patients ain't a good thing, sorry.<br /><br />No, I'm sorry in general. For everything. This is just a crappy day. That's when I breathe my nasty breath over this blog. That sounded nasty. Sorry, again. I gotta reply to a really sweet e-mail now. It might even make me happy for all I know.<br /><br />God, I love Swiss chocolate.HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-27462989053130232612010-07-13T22:03:00.003+02:002010-07-13T22:27:48.158+02:00UnitedMy brother's laughing while watching South Park. I'm laughing while chatting with random people. Is this life? Is this the good, the positive, the life how it's supposed to be?<br /><br />I'm back. Back to where I don't belong. Back to the country I hate, to the people I hate. To the life I hate. I hate Norway. Maybe I just hate being around my family...<br /><br />I saw them. In New York. This gay couple just popped out of nowhere. I walked towards those two girls, being so scared and so happy at the same time. They're gay! Two girls being together as a couple. I know they're gay, I just know it. That is what keeps me smiling at night. I'm not alone.<br /><br />Actually I've seen quite a few gay people in the US during my holiday. The US got hope. Sure, Norway's got hope too, but not the same kind of hope. It's quite a difference between 4,8 million people and over 300 million. It makes every hope bigger, brighter. More realistic. I want to move.<br /><br />This is dull. I'm listening to my newly created emo playlist on Spotify... What a life, right? I didn't get the opportunity to buy a pride tee. Too bad. I wish I had one. Maybe I'll make one. In the fall. <br /><br />You know what? I got into the upper secondary that I love the most in the whole school district. This will be a new start. This fall I'll try to walk into that school being <span style="font-style:italic;">me</span>. The real, full me. With flaws, with reality, with honesty. I'm gay.HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-20913690276749120302010-06-29T04:27:00.003+02:002010-06-29T05:26:31.539+02:00Back On TrackSo, I'm opening myself up to my friends. A little more for each time I see them. I think I should link this page to a friend. You know what? I actually <span style="font-style:italic;">intentionally</span> let a friend of mine read this shit I'm posting. I'm gonna do it again – let myself out to people. Wanting people to know me. And I think this place is the closest to be me. Just a sec, I'll let her know.<br /><br />Okey, that's the longest Facebook message I've ever sent... Yeah, I def have a life. Not.<br /><br />What I was going to write, causing the title, is this: I think I'm on my way back. Back to where I was in late 9th and early 10th grade. Which is back on track. The track that made me depressed and just bad. 2009 was the year of hell for me, and I really don't want to end up on the same path that I walked that year. Man, I need to talk to somebody.<br /><br />I bet I've already told you (not that I actually remember what I've written here) that I've decided to get my ass back into a therapist's chair again. Still, I don't like the thought that it's not the same person I saw for half a year. Will I have to start everything all over again? Can he read what the other psychologist wrote about me? Will the new therapist suck?<br /><br />Why the fuck did you have to quit? Bitch. No seriously, I needed you. Maybe I don't need <span style="font-style:italic;">you</span> now, but I still need <span style="font-style:italic;">somebody</span>. Fuck. It sucks "losing" the person you told everything to. Or at least it does when we didn't get the chance to finish.<br /><br />I wish you could've seen me succeed. Becoming as close as possible to normal. Because we had something going, we really did. Maybe we could've "figured it out", and both could see the whole thing as a victory. You could look at it as a succeeded case, and I could tell myself and everyone that I'm not crazy. No, I would've given you that victory of making me happy again.<br /><br />You made me happier and better, that's for sure. But the happiness went away, and I bet you I'll end up on the bad path again pretty soon. We'll see. I'll see. Honestly I think you think that I would need more help. That I wasn't really done. But we had to end. We both hope that I'll just get the courage to try once more. Do you have faith in me?<br /><br />No seriously, I love how the psychologist and I had our own little psychoanalyzing thing between us. "I think you think", "you think I think" and "I think you think I think"'s. Poor guy... No, we both learned something, I bet you.<br /><br />Now I just need the courage...HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-85592561149973484772010-06-17T23:44:00.002+02:002010-06-18T00:13:22.576+02:00To A Broken HeartHi.<br /><br />You know what? I'm sorry we had to end like this. To be honest, I never thought we would. At least not like this. You're worth so much more. I'm worth so much more. We're both. <span style="font-style:italic;">We deserve better.</span><br /><br />No, I don't really understand why you're so mad at me. I can imagine some of it, but far from everything. Right now I'm angry. At you, at the world, but mostly at myself. <span style="font-style:italic;">We deserve better.</span><br /><br />Why did the contact stop? I separated more and more from you. I found it hard to feel "home". Maybe we weren't as close as I'd wished for. Maybe I was just too much. Because I can be, I know that. We both can be. <span style="font-style:italic;">But we still deserve better.</span><br /><br />I know you didn't like it when I told you my therapist was quitting. He agreed with you, it wasn't a good time to quit. There's probably no right time to quit. But that was the situation. I got better, you know? I got over the suicide period, and I'm feeling better now. Still, I think I'll try to start therapy once again after the summer break. Just to get through with it. Because I try. <span style="font-style:italic;">We deserve better.</span><br /><br />You helped me through so much, it's actually hard to believe it all. You were there for me, even though I acted like an ass. I had it like hell, but you were still by my side. For some reason. Because I know it must've been hard for you, experiencing all this. You've said that you're a very strong person, time after time. I know that, and I know it's true. But some things are still hard. <span style="font-style:italic;">We both deserve better.</span><br /><br />I'm sorry for all the pain I've given you. To be honest, I don't know how much I've been a pain for you. But I'm sorry for whatever. I've been through hell, and I dragged you along in the side wagon of the motorcycle (whatever that means). I apologize for that. And I wish it never happened. <span style="font-style:italic;">We deserve better.</span><br /><br />Right now I'm listening to Muse. Old songs, new songs. All to take away the pain and anger. Pain because I've found it really hard to lose you. Anger because I regret. I'm angry at you too, but, when it comes to it, it's just the anger I have for myself. <span style="font-style:italic;">We deserve better.</span><br /><br />No, you can never redo anything, no matter who you are. But dreams and hope don't care whether there's rules or not. I want to make up with you, because I can't redo reality. You're a really good friend, and no matter what happens in the future, I'll always remember you. <span style="font-style:italic;">We deserve better.</span><br /><br />For the backup on accepting myself, for the help when trying to talk to my teacher, for you outing me and explaining the problem to the school nurse, for the walk you had with me right before my first session with the psychologist. For the support on coming to terms with myself, for the great laughs, for the fantastic (but still disturbing (in a good way)) discussions, for the hugs, and for you being yourself. Thank you for being such a friend. I've been a nightmare, but that was when you stood by my side. I'm still a nightmare sometimes, but now we are separate. <span style="font-style:italic;">We deserve better.</span><br /><br />You have a special place in my heart for all the things you've done for me. I owe you big, probably everything. You've kept me alive, and I thank you for that. Whatever happens later: Thank you.<br /><br />Love, Sunniva.HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-67876138480465882882010-06-14T23:04:00.004+02:002010-06-14T23:13:12.354+02:00Fuck.OK. Maybe I'm not fully OK yet. I'm not quite sure if I care right now. No, at the moment I don't care.<br /><br />Maybe I should talk to my mother? Ask her if she'll send me to a psychologist. Because there is something wrong, and I have no idea what it is.<br /><br />Fuck the world. I went to a psychologist for a <span style="font-style:italic;">freaking half a year</span>! That's quite some time. Shouldn't it go away then? Shouldn't I feel perfectly fine now? Why am I not happy?<br /><br />Maybe I'm chasing perfection, even though the world is imperfect. Am I supposed to feel this way? Please, I beg you, <span style="font-style:italic;">go away</span>. I don't want this to happen once more.<br /><br />Is this really a major deja vú? Is this exactly how I was last summer? If it is, then fuck it. I want to have a life. I want to be happy. I want to be <span style="font-style:italic;">normal</span>.<br /><br />Why am I doing this to myself? Why is my body doing this? Why is my mind screwing everything up?<br /><br />Fuck.HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-70609465494605409022010-06-14T22:50:00.002+02:002010-06-14T23:04:11.989+02:00EmptyI think this is the first time I've ever written the title before the rest of the post... "Empty." Because that's exactly how I feel at the moment. Empty.<br /><br />Today I've been making protecting skins for my Mac (aka Baby). I've been sowing all day. All freaking day, except from when I was at school for 4 hours. What a life I have. This post is meaningless right now.<br /><br />Back to the emptiness. Somewhere into the sowing, I started watching the 'In Treatment' episodes I've downloaded. From season one, about Sophie. Gorgeous girl. I'm learning stuff when watching 'In Treatment'. Psychology stuff. Things about myself, and things about others. When can you say you've been sexually abused?<br /><br />I'm so empty right now. Like I'm nothing. Or everything. I'm perfect. Or a big fail. Am I me? Is this me, the real me?<br /><br />I love music. Right now I hate my creativity. But it is like the creativity is lost. And without creativity, I'm nothing. Nothing.<br /><br />Empty.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hmsunnymh/4700627753/" title="Fail or Perfection by HMSunnyMH, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4026/4700627753_a314585364.jpg" width="500" height="281" alt="Fail or Perfection" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Photo: Perfect/Fail<br />Properties: HMSunnyMH</span>HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-11734198202768486432010-06-09T20:40:00.003+02:002010-06-09T21:05:29.671+02:00I Can't BreatheRight now I'm hyperventilating. Because I'm scared. Which makes me hyperventilate even more. Fuck dogs.<br /><br />That's right, I was scared by a dog. You know what? I'm freakin' scared of everything. And I hate it. I can breathe now.<br /><br />Animals scare me in general. Whenever I'm at my great grandma's, there's this cat wandering around. And at a sudden, in the middle of the dinner, I feel something smoothly swipe my left leg. Slowly... And there you have me, terrified. Dogs are even worse. I scream <span style="font-weight:italic;">loud</span>, and don't know where the hell I'm supposed to put myself. Yes, I'm afraid of heights. But animals are different. They're not scary, they're deathly frightening. So I start crying.<br /><br />Through the past year or so I've been "developing" my asthma. It's getting real bad nowadays, and I've started on regular medication. Mainly because I'm coughing like I've got lung cancer, but my doc thinks it's asthma (I don't disagree at all) causing it. So now I have to inhale weird powder that might give me fungus in my throat (!) if I use it wrong. Welcome to my life.<br /><br />What is bad with asthma, is that whenever I'm scared, or just working out, I start hyperventilating. I need loads of oxygen, but my lungs find that hard to do. For some fucking reason. And I can't breathe. Then I get even more scared. Fucko, fucko, <span style="font-style:italic;">fucko</span>. Yeah, today I feel sorry for myself.<br /><br />What am I really scared of? I don't know. Nothing. Everything. Myself. Or those around. I try to live a "normal" life, but I just feel weird. Maybe my friends don't like that I'm gay? Do they have a problem with it? It's weird, isn't it, that a girl wants to be friends with other girls that are straight? Maybe she likes me? Maybe she wants to turn me straight?<br /><br />Yeah, I think I'll try starting to talk with somebody again after the summer holidays. I'm sad. For no reason. Sounds familiar, Sunny? Kind of, yes... Fuck. This ain't fanfabulous. This is life. And it sucks. I need to talk to somebody.<br /><br />This post's been containing too many swears. That's probably not good. I thought everything was OK. Fuck. My father's cutting the grass. Again. I hate allergies. I hate medicine. I hate it. Ex-psychologist: This was my fifteen minutes of sadness for today.HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-45398147625534903512010-06-07T22:21:00.006+02:002010-06-07T23:23:42.314+02:00LowAnd I'm down the road again... But I was outside skinny dipping today. Yeah, that was totally out of context. *Gathering thoughts* OK, let's look at this. I promised the psychologist to if I ever felt bad. And I keep my promises. As far as possible, tho.<br /><br />Lots have been happening lately. I've had my final exams for Lower Secondary, if there's anything like that. Grade 8-10 (7-9 within British/American standards). It's been pressuring, but not bad at all. I actually ended up with an A+ on my oral exam (in Religions). The written one I won't know about until graduation day, June 17th. We'll see. But it sure has been busy, without that much time to "figure out life" and stuff. That might've been positive, to just put everything away for a couple of days, but I don't think it really works...<br /><br /><object width="500" height="25"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/m4kRciR7Eo4&hl=en_US&fs=1&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/m4kRciR7Eo4&hl=en_US&fs=1&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="25"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Naval - Yann Tiersen</span><br /><br />I think I'm hitting the lows again. I'm really not as happy as I was just a month ago. Maybe I'm just tired. Tired of school, tired of friends, tired of people, tired of fitting in. Tired of everything. I think I'm going to watch a movie. A comedy. Something really funny. Because right now I need it. I don't give a damn that it's 11pm.<br /><br />Yeah, that's also been a concern lately. I'm sleeping lighter now. And if you know me, and have slept by my side, you know I'm a heavy sleeper. A really heavy sleeper. But at a sudden I've been sleeping worse. And I can't fall asleep. I could fall asleep at 10.30pm sometimes. Maybe even before that. But now I'm not sleepy at 11. I'm not even sleepy at 12. I might sleep at 1am. No, the sleeping is getting worse.<br /><br />I'm thinking about talking to my former teacher. Yes, I had a crush on her. That's not the point. She's over 40 for God's sake! No, I want to talk with her about my crazy year of 9th grade. I was a wreck. I was horrible. I was crazy. I was questioning. I was living and trying not to live at the same time. It was a really confusing time. Why do I want to talk about it with her? Because I want to tell her that I'm not as crazy anymore. That I'm better. Because she noticed something was wrong. But she wanted me to get through it myself.<br /><br />I want to apologize. She deserves an apology. Because I really am sorry. And I put her through a lot. I put myself through a lot. I might've put the world through a lot. But here I am today. She deserves an apology.<br /><br />The low is hitting me. Yes, the psychologist told me somewhat what to do when I'm feeling down. I'm not feeling horrible, I'm just feeling down. I'll make it through the two months of summer vacation, and then I'll see what I do. Maybe I'm going to look up a psychologist once again to really get through this, whatever it might be. Because today I'm clueless. As clueless music sometimes can be. Or, as clueless us humans can be when listening to music.<br /><br />Yes, I think I'll try to get to talk with somebody again after the holidays. It's just to find the reason to talk with somebody. I tend to feel the need of a reason.<br /><br />I'm crying now. I don't know why. But I'm crying. I'm an artist – a creative soul. It's beautiful, but It's a torture at the same time. I hate crying. I <span style="font-style:italic;">never</span> cried at the psychologist. Almost six months, and no tears. I want it that way. I can't be vulnerable. I must stay true, stay strong. Stay me. And me does not involve crying. At least not around other people. These thoughts makes me cry. I've been using the verb 'to cry' far too many times in this section...<br /><br />They say that you shall live like there's no tomorrow. Is there any tomorrow? When will I know tomorrow?HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-21222956494554123182010-05-27T22:33:00.003+02:002010-05-27T22:54:34.171+02:00As Yesterday Cut, Tomorrow Sings"The times they are a-changing" Bob Dylan sings. Well, the times really are changing for me. But no, it's not the time that's changing, it's me. The last three months have made me change <span style="font-style:italic;">a lot</span>. If some of my friends say I've changed dramatically, I believe them. But I'm happy with that.<br /><br />Right now I got this worst headache ever. I bet this is like a hangover, though I've never drunk any alcohol ever. Maybe I'm getting ill. What do I know. I just finished my written math exam. My hope and belief is that it went OK, or rather good. Now I'm boring.<br /><br />The situation with my parents is awkward at the moment. I'm OK with my mother, she's survivable, and actually a pretty good person. My father on the other hand, is getting on my nerves. And when somebody is getting on my nerves, I get pissed off. And I act like an idiot. That'll just be for now.<br /><br />I'm thinking about therapy again. It's not like we ever finished it off and got to the end of it, good or bad. We just had to separate because of him quitting his job. But that's so. Still, I wish I could actually get down to it and really understand myself. I have a lot of questions, and a lot of confusion. But at the time being, without seeing anyone about it, I can't get over it.<br /><br />Now as I've told my mother that I talked to this psychologist for half a year, I can possibly ask her if I feel the need to talk to somebody again. But I don't know if I've got "big enough" problems. We can't call us ill for anything. No, I don't know.<br /><br />Sorry this isn't much of a smart-ass post or anything, but I needed to add something here. Just what I feel. To be honest, this blog has been filled with a whole lot of shit from it's beginning. But that's so. I'm the chief. You can't do anything about it, as long as you don't hack me. Go on, it's not that much to find.<br /><br /><object width="480" height="25"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aAIs3tUYOi4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aAIs3tUYOi4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">How To Save A Life - The Fray</span><br /><br />Not my kind of music, but it reflects my life at the moment. I might've lost a friend. <span style="font-style:italic;">Might've.</span> I don't know what will come. But I guess it was because I've changed. I could change back, but that's not the person I want to be. Today's me is way closer to my heart than the me I've been acting like the past couple of years.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Tomorrow will show.</span>HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-25948687117527917782010-04-24T22:26:00.004+02:002010-04-24T22:47:39.756+02:00HopeToday was the second time this year I had shorts on. It was sunny outside, not so warm, but just fine. The blue skies begged for peace, the green grass stated change. It's spring.<br /><br />To be honest I hate springtime. I have allergies, and this season is messing with my face as well as my head. Sometimes it's just as if everything explodes. But I survive every time, miraculously.<br /><br />I'm relieved. I don't feel like a new person, but I can see that I might've changed throughout the last year or so. Someone says coming out completely changes their situation. Maybe that's so. I'm not sure for certain. The last couple of years I've been withdrawn from everything and everyone; I've been hiding. Now I've at a sudden gotten the opportunity to be me and free. Maybe I really have changed...<br /><br />We all wish life was more simple sometimes. Not that that's ever going to happen... But hope is what's keeping us going. We look forward, or we're just so happy with our lives as it is. If you don't got one of those two, you haven't got much. I choose to believe that hope is what's made me going. When I look back it's really hard to understand what made me keep on as normal as possible, but somehow I made it.<br /><br />Even though it's tempting to say that everything is perfectly fine now, I don't think I can do so. I know there's stuff inside me that shouldn't necessarily be there. And I've experienced how bad it <span style="font-style:italic;">can</span> become. That's why I see it as important to not be caught on the wagon going to the "perfect" world. I can't put myself in such a vulnerable situation; It's not worth it.<br /><br />With that said, I must say that I look at the world in a more positive way now than before. I think my life has gotten much better now than one year ago, and I'm very grateful for how my situation is today. The present builds up on my hope for the future. My "goal" looks more reachable now than ever before. And that's a good thing.<br /><br />It's just to remember the positive when the negative wants to take control. Not exactly my specialty, but I'm working on it.HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-399595341321613972010-04-23T23:36:00.002+02:002010-04-23T23:55:48.540+02:00I'm Coming Out<span style="font-weight:bold;">Diana Ross - I'm Coming Out</span><br /><object width="480" height="25"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EPpE_BrX0FM&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EPpE_BrX0FM&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"></embed></object><br /><br />Yeah, that's probably the gayest song ever made. But I like it. Now, what happened this Wednesday:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">My mother was driving me to my gymnastics practice, and while sitting in the car she just went:</span><br />– You've got some well thought out thoughts sometimes.<br />– Well, thanks... That might be because I've been going to a psychologist for the last half a year, <span style="font-style:italic;">I said.</span><br />– Oh... Well, I'm glad I got to know.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">And then I got off for gymnastics...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">So, after gymnastics practice my mother picked me up and drove me home. We didn't talk all "Oh my God! You're talking to a psychologist!!!" We got home, and in the kitchen we started talking a bit more.</span><br /><br />– The reason I've been seeing a psychologist is because I'm a lesbian, <span style="font-style:italic;">I said.</span><br />– Oh... Really?<br />– Yeah...<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">And then there was this bad scary and awkward silence. I looked at her, and she smiled so weird.</span><br />– What?! <span style="font-style:italic;">I asked her</span><br />– No, it's nothing. <span style="font-style:italic;">Pause.</span> – I'd really never guessed that...<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">So I assured her I am, and we started talking about our weird family. And then it was over.</span><br /><br />I'm done! I'm freakin' done with it! <span style="font-weight:bold;">I came out to my mother!</span><br /><br />Yeah, this is the reason why I'm on a current high right now. But I'm done! It's weird, but it's real.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">BJ Thomas - Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head</span><br /><object width="480" height="25"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VILWkqlQLWk&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VILWkqlQLWk&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"></embed></object>HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-6290058021303855952010-04-19T21:54:00.003+02:002010-04-19T22:22:58.273+02:00"Mom...? We Need To Talk."OK, now it's finally coming. I'm considering telling my mother I'm gay.<br /><br />To be honest, I never thought I'd say so. Or at least not yet. <span style="font-style:italic;">I'm a freakin' 15!</span> I know one soul doing so before that age. Seriously?<br /><br />Because I <span style="font-style:italic;">am</span> really thinking about it — to come out to her. When my grandparents were in town for my brother's birthday a week ago, I listened to a conversation between my mother and grandfather. He's writing on (another) book, this time a "real" novel for adults. Filled with (way too much) sex, God, Christianity, condemnation, and homosexuality. Or the condemnation of gays. What a shocking move from him...<br /><br />What actually is a little shocking to me is that my mother actually pointed out that, and of a sudden they two were discussing homosexuality for over an hour. Pure entertainment that should've been promoted in Big Brother, but that's so. Still, <span style="font-style:italic;">my mother</span> argued <span style="font-style:italic;">pro</span> homosexuals! Wow... That kind of made me speechless. Not that I can't see her as an ally (because I <span style="font-style:italic;">can</span>, though I know a thing or two about her in advance nevertheless), but I've never really listened to her saying stuff like that. Weird, I'm totally aware.<br /><br />So... This event has been what's made me to think about actually come out to her. The psychologist (I'm trying not to be "anti adults", which means actually listening to him (he really deserves it)) told me to try to establish an OK relationship with my parents, and then especially with my mother. Because I'm way too good at stripping down my emotions and be plastic (not popular bitch in high school plastic). So I'm supposed to allow them to get to know me, at least a little.<br /><br />"Mom, I've been going to a psychologist the last half a year. And I'm gay. Now, I've accomplished to let you get to know me. I'm awesome." That's something that could easily come out of my mouth. If I decide to tell her. Chances? Am I a bitch if I say that I'll do it to take advantage of the stereotypes so she'll let me go to New York City Pride this summer?<br /><br />We all wish things were easier than they are. My dream? That when I popped out of my mother's vagina at the age of zero, you could see a mark in my forehead saying "queer". But that didn't happen, and now I'll have to learn how to deal with that. Take the risk of coming out. It's not like she'll kick me out or anything. Or...<br /><br />If I, hypothetically, come out to her tomorrow, should I go for a girly blouse or take the butch out in the open? Just asking...HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-8689983802334113182010-04-16T22:56:00.003+02:002010-04-16T23:39:16.676+02:00The End Or The Start<span style="font-weight:bold;">Meghan Tonjes - The End</span><br /><object width="480" height="25"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tA7vzUm9FNc&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tA7vzUm9FNc&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"></embed></object><br /><br />Yeah, I think we all need some music today/tonight(/whenever you're reading this). Always, actually. And it fits this day. Every day actually.<br /><br /><br />Yesterday I had my last session with the psychologist. Which means I'm done. <span style="font-style:italic;">I'm freakin' done!</span> No more "missing" the buss, no restless hours thinking about what some dude I don't even know thinks about me. I don't need to think through everything a thousand times and answer weird questions. And I didn't need to break the deal. He finished it, so I was left with no choice.<br /><br />To be honest I felt so good after that last time. We talked seriously, we talked weird, we were right and wrong all over. He told me his "thesis's", letting me into the process of deliberate if they were good or bad. And now I know what he really thinks, and what he was left with after this period of almost half a year.<br /><br />I'm grateful. I'm so grateful it's almost as I don't understand it myself. But I really am. Who "me" would've been if it wasn't for this, I don't even want to know. Bad, I guess. So yes, it's helped me. A lot.<br /><br />What's happening further? I have no idea. He asked me whether I'd ask for help if I needed it later, and if it's gotten easier. I was a wreck after every session for a while only because I was terrified of going there... To ask for help might not be the easiest for me, but hopefully some of the scary is gone now, as I've seen "how it is". But I really hope this will be the first and last time ever no matter what.<br /><br />Me ending up as a wreck again is what scares me the most, I think. But when I'm able to go straight to the wrong end, I guess it's possible to go to the right end as well. That sounded weird, but whatever.<br /><br />Remember the feeling. If I can remember this feeling, I think I can stay happy. The key to happiness is more complicated than x+2=5.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">The Killers - I Can't Stay</span><br /><object width="480" height="25"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aY09tzokeUM&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aY09tzokeUM&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Go dance!</span>HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-2775157723796609922010-04-13T21:48:00.003+02:002010-04-13T22:29:05.346+02:00News: I'm WeirdOK, now it's "out of the bag". Or the closet (?). The psychologist is finishing. He got a new job somewhere else (I know I'm not nosy enough to know where, and it kinda irritates me), and he's done by the end of April.<br /><br />You know what? I'm kinda glad he's getting a new job. Because that means I don't need to be so "obsessed" thinking about when to stop having sessions with him. Still, I told him about the "I wanna leave"-thoughts, and he seemed somewhat worried. Yeah, my life is quite crappy sometimes, but I really don't need him to worry as well as me being afraid of what I'm capable of doing and whatnot.<br /><br />Well, now right before he's quitting his job, we're sort of speed dating. Or if you ask me, that's the best thing to call it. Put in it whatever you want, but we're just seeing each other rather often right now (because I'm weird and have weird thoughts, and need to talk to somebody about my problems). So, yeah... Need to say no more.<br /><br />Now (surprise, surprise!), I'm a very weird person today. And I use way too many parentheses in this post... And this is becoming more and more random.<br /><br />Anyhow, I've been thinking about this with religion and stuff. This winter break, when my brother and I visited our grandparents in their cabin near Trysil, Grandpa said something. "You've already chosen what you believe in," he told me on the way to the airport. Oh, I have? And <span style="font-style:italic;">you're</span> the one to decide so?<br /><br />Maybe I get why he thinks as he does regarding homosexuality. In his mind your sexuality is something that can be changed (I'm not going to go further on this subject and include the bi's, transsexuals and other queers), and apparently he thinks you can just choose what you want to believe in. Is it so? Can you choose? I don't think you can. You might deny what you believe in, but I don't think you can choose if you got faith and can believe in God or not. Of course people might shift between religions; Religions is so much more than old books and gods. Still, that little thing regarding believing can't be changed. That's what I say.<br /><br />And who chooses their religion or faith as brutal as he wants it to look like? Sometimes I just feel the situation with him is just hopeless. As if you believe your plant is this close being dead, even though you've done everything to keep it alive. It really irritates me that he thinks he knows everything about me, and that he can say he <span style="font-style:italic;">knows</span> I've chosen when I don't even know it myself. Screw him. Though I bet you it's definitely not easy.<br /><br />My grandfather is my plant. When am I going to learn that he can't be "saved" from his own hell. <span style="font-style:italic;">He's even decorated the whole thing!</span> Yes, my grandfather is my plant. Or the weed around me. I bet the last.HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3138624122952137045.post-81731247861414886352010-04-06T21:52:00.003+02:002010-04-06T22:28:04.514+02:00Session Filed "Scary"So, yet another day passed, yet another session done. Weird...<br /><br />Today I was at his once again. We talked, we analyzed (I think we got our own psychoanalyzing club...), we wondered, and we talked even more. I think this session has been the longest thus far. At least it felt that way. Not so sure whether that's a good or a bad thing, but whatever.<br /><br />Last time we decided that this session was to be about my family. Or, I asked if we could so. Because he kind of wanted me to be done. Poor guy, now I totally messed that up for him. Because I actually told him. That I was suicidal. Once.<br /><br />I'm definitely low on sleep, and this day has been marked by that. When walking up to his office, I just had to stop for a second. I got tears in my eyes, wondering how I could possibly tell him this. The anxiety I've had before "invaded" me, and by a sudden I regret the whole thing. Why should I even care going in? But I did.<br /><br />He could definitely see it. Smart as he is, he got that this was my way of showing him I wanted to tell him something. He asked. I said, "I want to tell you something, but I can't say it." So he suggested getting back to it. It's not like you're supposed to freak people out three minutes after you've met them.<br /><br />We talked about my family. How my relationship with my grandfather is rather bad. How I'm terrified about my future. I don't even know if I'll have a real family around me ten years from now... Only future will tell. I really do have a bad relationship with them all. But I can't really see how it's supposed to become any better, as I've said before. If I'm to look at it myself, I'll ask if I really <span style="font-style:italic;">want</span> any relationship with my family later in life. Maybe I feel I'm too vulnerable to manage hoping.<br /><br />After a while he wanted to know what I wanted to tell him. So I spent 15 minutes trying to say it without saying it directly. In stead of sounding like it was supposed to, it sounded like I was about to say my father or grandfather raped me. Which wasn't the case. But trust me, it really sounded like that was the deal. He got it in the end, though.<br /><br />"Sometimes I just wish I could disappear. Like, especially this Christmas." That's what I said, adding a lot extra, though, as I always do. But that's what I said. Then he got it. Thankfully.<br /><br />I'm not going to go more into this part. My apologize, or blessing, depending on how you look at it and what's your outcome. Because I tend to be quite insensitive sometimes, and that might easily make people even more sad than this blog has already caused by it's nature. But we talked about this subject for a while, touching other things as well and putting everything into one (That sounds weird, and I'm totally aware).<br /><br />Hopefully he gets me. I think he does. Though I can guarantee you I'm difficult to understand. So anything over 35% is approved. Maybe he'll let me understand how to get out of this mess I'm creating for myself. I'm crossing my fingers.HMSunnyMHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14048727675912734117noreply@blogger.com2