The day I realized I liked him, he started acting weird. We drank our beer, we smiled, we laughed, but I cud not let go of the feeling that something was wrong. The next morning we stood there. I in yesterdays clothes, he not wearing his smile. When we hugged, I knew that that hug was going to be the last. No kiss, no looking back.
Now, we have not talked in a week. I was doing fine. I am fine. I just miss him.
"Eg er nødt til å forstå at mellom oss er det slutt, tar jakken min og går, finner meg en annen gutt." - Razika
Edit: He realized we were starting to act like a couple, and he did not want a relationship, so he backed out. Well, you should have thought about that before you started taking my hand in public and introducing me to your mom and friends. I am moving from this town in two months, does it sound like I want a boyfriend? No. What happened to just having fun? Gah.
And we are finally done with our first issue! I have learned so much during this posses, and maybe the most important: I have learned that magazine journalism really is my way to go. This is only the trial-version, and pleas remember that nighter Ida, nor I am graphic-students.
Hope you like it!
Bob Dylan, you are my hero. Happy 70´th birthday! But really, is it not time to retire soon? It is sad to acknowledge, but you are ruining your good reputation. But then again, you have never really cared about what people said. So hey, do your thing.
This summer I was dreaming about the ultimate festival summer: Roskilde, Malakoff, Raumarock, Sommerfesten and Øya. I was dreaming about repeating last years sweden-interail, hopping on trains to go visit friends in Stockholm, Lidköping and Kristinehamn. I was dreaming about the nights that would fly away in summer haze, the nights we would spend drunk, wandering around town, the nights we would use building our bonfire, the house parties and the dinners we would have. Summer of 2011 was going to be the best.
Instead I will spend my summer in Trondheim. Alone. You see, I got the summer job of my dreams - two months in NRK P3. A job that I absolutely adore, love and wanted. Still, it is a bit bittersweet to know that I will have the total of two weeks of summer vacation before I move to England to finish of my BA in magazine writing and feature journalism. Bummer.
Ok, I admit it. I am starting to really like this guy I previously talked about. There, I said it.
He gives me these annoying butterflies, and I can`t stop thinking about him.
Love love love
What is it good for?
I think this could be a good summer.
The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart - Say No To Love
The Naked And Famous - Young Blood
M83 - Kim & Jessie
When you get Holly Golightlys famous mean reds, or are just stressing out about final papers and exams, listen to these songs, and everything will be OK. At least, that works for me.
basically what we have here is a dreamer. somebody out of touch with reality. when she jumped, she probably thought she'd fly
When walking around in Stockholm last weekend, I told my mom all about what my life would look like when I eventually am going to live there. I would go on and on, looking into peoples apartments, daydreaming about who they might be and what their wishes and desires were. My mom just smiled at me, and told me to write a book about my dreams, I sure enough had stories to fill one.
That made me thinking. I am a dreamer. I spend most of my day daydreaming about what life could be like, what are going to happen in the future, what life in a big house somewhere in the wold would be like and what will happen if I do this and that. Sometimes I intend to dream to much about the future, and what will happen if I just get pass these exams, or when spring finally arrives, that I forget to live in the moment. Or when my expectations are let down. That bit of being a daydreamer sucks.
I have decided to rename my blog "The Dreamer". The address is still the same, just a little name-change. Instead of writing a book, like my mom sad, I will start to blog about these dreams that I have. So be ready for a lot of love, romance, klisje and leaps away from the everyday life.
And the photoboot blog continues. Today I went to the hairdresser, and came back with curls. Due to my "baby-hair", they were gone after an hour though. Seriously, no matter how much hairspray I use, after an hour or two my hair is poker strait again. Tonight I am going to dance and drink myself giggly at the Hove party at Brukbar, wearing my new, perfect white dress. Summer is here and I love it.
Gertruge Stein once said "America is my country, and Paris is my hometown". Not that I feel that attached to Norway, but I have fallen in love with a city the way Stein fell in love with Paris. It may not be as romantic at Paris, as exotic as a hidden iceland in the Caribbean or as hip as New York, but I have fallen in love with Stockholm.
It was love at first sight. The architecture, the sun sneaking over the rooftops at five in the morning, the people, the language, the design, everything. The fact that there is a Weekday store at every corner, the cinnamon buns at pressbyråan. I visited Stockholm once again last weekend with my mom, and she must have thought I was on the happy pill the way I was grinning like an idiot the moment we stepped out of the taxi.
I dont know what I will do in the future. I am about to turn 21, and the world lies beneath my feet. One thing is for sure: The world is my country, and Stockholm is my hometown. One day I will live with my Swedish husband with blond curls and the cutes smile in a penthouse in this town that makes my heart beat faster.
Moments of life during January-March, captured on film by Ida and her analogue camera.
1. Waiting for the subway in Berlin.
2. Drunken night at a hotel in East-Berlin. We drank, laughed, cried and danced for a whole week.
3. Dunno what I am doing here, oh well.
4. Aristillus live at Samfundet, Mars 2011.
5. Aristillus passing out at the after-party, 04.30.
7. At the mentioned after-party, Ida and I made waffles. Most of the members of the band fell asleep before they were done though.
Life, I like it.