Operating instructions

For a very long time, it seems like forever actually, I thought that a user's manual wasn't included in the package that I call me. Several times people have tried to come across my handbook, unsuccesfully. They have searched without finding, they have looked but not seen.

The operating instructions of a thinker/maniac is not easy to figure out. Which buttons to push and which to not. One will need to know when to ask and when not to ask. When to hug it out and when to stay away. And now, I have come across someone that already had the manual for me in his right pocket. And he can read it too. A person that touches me in ways I didn't know I liked. A person that talks to me in ways I didn't know I wanted to be spoken to. He picks up groceries that I would have bought myself and recommend books to me that I should have read a long time ago. Whithout trying. My thoughts about litterature as well as the oil-industry, relations, too heavy luggage and flying without wings has always been for me and my close friends only. Until now.

How can he know what I need when I don't?

How can he be calm when I'm not?

How can he stay when I will not?

Who sold him the manual on e-bay and how much was it?

Can I buy it and figure myself out the way he has?

Damaged goods

We are all damaged, it seems. In one way or another our carry-on bags are so heavy that we shouldn't even have been let on the flight to start with. Where are the stewards people? Planes crash if they get overloaded, if every single passenger is carrying too much weight the fuel will not take us where we intend to go. And so, we end up in situations in life where we wish we where not.

Frugan was dating this guy. He was too young for her. Or maybe you can call it too undemolished. It was doomed from the start, he would never have understood her missbehavour, paranoia and unexplainable fear for love and trust. If you don't carry any luggage, never have thought that you found the right but was wrong, never have been hurt as hell, then you will never understand the fear of calling something two instead of one and one. It takes time you know. Two years ago, someone I trusted with my life went fishing. In several ways, some of you know the story. Two years ago. As time went by, feelings disappeared one by one - love, hate, disappointment, anger and pity. The one and only thing that is still there is the fear. Of ever ending up there again. I don't ever want to go there again. So how am I ever going to get to travel somewhere with someone when the plane that is supposed to take us there is so jammed with load that it will crash and burn half way? If you know that a plane is going to crash, would you get on it in the first place? I'm finding myself calculating possibilities. The more attractive the intended destination is - the more it is worth risking a ride straight to hell instead. Putting it that way, so far no destination in the world/life has been worth the jeopardizing. Recently I have been starting to think that what I need instead is a really qualified pilot. Someone that can steer that plane, even if it's overloaded with all my shit. Someone who has been there, seen it, felt it and survived. Someone that understands where I'm coming from but is able to show me that it might just be worth the ride. Feel the pressure JK.

Google Translator

So. After bitching a little bit to my friends about how much harder it is to be funny and interesting in english I was told to use Google Translator. It was supposed to be perfect. Since I happen to be plain lazy and an undercover genious, what would be easier than to write something in Swedish and let the allmighty powers of Google translate it. I tried with the description of myself written around the time of the very birth of this blog. Follow does the result.

I see myself as an engineer, argumentatör that disrupt and economist with the all-or-nothing syndrome. Music Freak with performance panic, perform the cyclist with a lack of patience. Skier, ordbråkare, control advocate, list printers and omkringdrivare. Slack with ambitions and twelve steps to happiness, must constantly think and feel. Doubts and hatred, ambitious or lazy? Love and respect, now or directly? Sleep all day but act with your head instead of the stomach. Burning, skin, stress, mandatory straight-opposite-girl, provocative, stable-unstable adrenaline lackey. Framåt-/uppåtsträvande and moralprejudicerande, without sensitivity but in view-to-die-without-to-have-been-all-fears. Future plans that include baggy jeans, dirty bike and NYC-key. One or zero, stone track or IQ badboll. Flies perfect, but fall like a stone, a long body but short legs.

Very much less funny than the original. Still funny though, if you know swedish. Other rumours about Google Translator is that it constantly translates "Östersund" (my home-town) to "Miami". Also funny.

Sincerely your argumentatör that disrupts. View-to-die-without-to-have-been-all-fears to all of you.