We Are All Weird

21 Guns - Green Day (American Idiot Cast Version)

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 Before the Lobotomy was fabulous too, and very touching. But yeah... I suck at changing subjects.

Now I'm listening to Die Polizei - Kaizers Orchestra. 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.

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.

You know what? I hate my father. Right now I really, really 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.

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.

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.

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 amazing piece of music in the background. Love it.


Listen to it here
Kids - MGMT

Weird.
Cool though.

Horny (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.

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.

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...

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 that many people that are looking for any girlfriend, 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.

Yeah. I told you I end up happy when I'm horny. I just saw this weird, but still cool (and very, very sexy) movie this evening.And Then Came Lola. 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.

That probably says more about me than the movie... (Get a life, girl!)

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.

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 should become a Christian. Yeah, now I really sounds like an annoying teenager. Fuck.

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.

Over and out.

The sexy music, by the way (I bet you've heard it before, but I just heart this song, haha):

Swiss Chocolate Is Better Than Life

Fuck. I just ate the last chocolate. Real, fantastic Swiss chocolate. Fuck.

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.


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...

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 so serious. Totally aware. So... How's life doing for the internet? I hate holidays.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

God, I love Swiss chocolate.

United

My 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?

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...

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.

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.

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.

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 me. The real, full me. With flaws, with reality, with honesty. I'm gay.

Back On Track

So, 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 intentionally 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.

Okey, that's the longest Facebook message I've ever sent... Yeah, I def have a life. Not.

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.

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?

Why the fuck did you have to quit? Bitch. No seriously, I needed you. Maybe I don't need you now, but I still need somebody. Fuck. It sucks "losing" the person you told everything to. Or at least it does when we didn't get the chance to finish.

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.

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?

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.

Now I just need the courage...

To A Broken Heart

Hi.

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. We deserve better.

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. We deserve better.

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. But we still deserve better.

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. We deserve better.

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. We both deserve better.

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. We deserve better.

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. We deserve better.

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. We deserve better.

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. We deserve better.

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.

Love, Sunniva.

Fuck.

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.

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.

Fuck the world. I went to a psychologist for a freaking half a year! That's quite some time. Shouldn't it go away then? Shouldn't I feel perfectly fine now? Why am I not happy?

Maybe I'm chasing perfection, even though the world is imperfect. Am I supposed to feel this way? Please, I beg you, go away. I don't want this to happen once more.

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 normal.

Why am I doing this to myself? Why is my body doing this? Why is my mind screwing everything up?

Fuck.

Empty

I 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.

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.

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?

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?

I love music. Right now I hate my creativity. But it is like the creativity is lost. And without creativity, I'm nothing. Nothing.

Empty.


Photo: Perfect/Fail
Properties: HMSunnyMH

I Can't Breathe

Right now I'm hyperventilating. Because I'm scared. Which makes me hyperventilate even more. Fuck dogs.

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.

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 loud, 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.

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.

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, fucko. Yeah, today I feel sorry for myself.

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?

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.

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.

Low

And 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.

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...


Naval - Yann Tiersen

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 never 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...

They say that you shall live like there's no tomorrow. Is there any tomorrow? When will I know tomorrow?