Petites Choses

Okay, first of all, I just have to say something about the Air France debacle: the plane disappeared?! Are you kidding me? And now they’ve reported to finding parts of the wreckage. What a shit time to hear about this. I mean, I like flying, and I love traveling, but this just gives me the creeps.

In other news; I need to find a job in Switzerland. Can’t go on leeching off of Mom’s money. And it’s not a matter of wanting to get one. I need to get one. I want to know I can support myself—or at least be able to cover my own pocket spendings—stand on my own two feet. I want to be financially independent. I know the prospects of landing a job in Lugano is not very good, but I’m determined. Have to start working!

Nous avons vu un film en français aujourd’hui qui m’a fait trist et un peu abattu. (Un sentiment trop courant dans ces derniers temps, mais t’inquiète po, chuis correct.) Ceci est ma critique:

It is the story about “an outsider coming into a close-knit community and the effects that [he] has on the people, and the prejudices that are stirred up.”

The writer’s portrayal of the small town is grim, yet relatable: a chilly, impenetrable circle of homogenous Bretons who are more or less unmalleable in regards to their ways and manners with outsiders.

The viewers are introduced to Antoine as a catalyst, but the characters are stagnant, and aside from the gradual warming up on Yvon, there is no real change, which is the most frustrating thing about this movie. It is essentially a movie about a man fail: unpleasant and hopeless, an ironic twist on the film’s title, L’Équipier.

As a foreigner, an expat, an intruder, this film hits a little too close for comfort, and its message is disappointing and harrowing. I was secretly hoping for a more reconciliatory ending.

Obviously, this isn’t the kind of movie that I would have liked to see, but I can’t help but ponder on its accuracy. Why is it so damn difficult to immerse yourself into a small community? People who have never lived outside of their homelands, hometowns, they will never come to know this feeling.

I like traveling and seeing the world, and wouldn’t give it up for the world. But really, where is a place that I can say I belong to? Is the right to a communal citizenship something every vagabond has to renounce? Or is it just me who is floating in between countries and continents?

I leave you with Elephant by Damien Rice, a former favorite that I rediscovered a few days ago. Used to be a huge Damien Rice fan in junior high; such powerful melodies and strong—albeit de temps en temps senseless—words. And you’ve gotta admit the man’s got balls.
‘Cause I am lately…Lonely.
‘Cause I am lately…Horny.

Se Non Ami

So after falling into a hellhole today, I am finally feeling a bit better. I’ve got Zaiko kosing himself on my lap; I think I’ll miss him more than leverpostei. Which makes me wonder if the damn thing will even remember me after I leave, never mind miss me. That’s the only thing dogs have over cats, you know; their blatant loyalty. You can never tell what a cat is thinking ‘cause it acts so damn nonchalant all the time.

Har akkurat kommet hjem fra Engler og Demoner med Anniken. Hun kom hos meg, vi spiste litt Grandis, og så dro vi til kinoen. Jeg må si at jeg føler så mye bedre etter å ha vært ute med henne. Det var en pust av frisk luft å kunne endelig få snakke med noen om disse følelsene jeg har fått i det siste, og det føles like bra å få høre hva som skjer i hennes liv. Vi snakka om masse, både seriøse og dumme greier; det var i allefall en skikkelig bra fredag kveld.

Filmen, forresten, var innmari bra. Selv om jeg har lest boka allerede var det likevel spennende. Og den skuespiller’n, Ewan McGregor, fyttikatta han er kjekk ass! (Selvfølgelig spilte han rollen sin veldig bra også, men det hjelper jo at han var deilig å se på òg, haha.)

今天晚上带给我了心的希望. 我会继续努力的. 虽然我跟学校一大部分的人不会有设么结果, 我还有时间和机会去交一两个好的挪威朋友. 嗯!

I’m going to leave you with a song that I’m beginning to like very much. (It’s by Nek, no surprise there; I am so taken by him.) Its lyrics, though simple, are poignant, a hopeful yet cautious reminder of l’importanza di amare.

Download: 02.%20Se%20non%20ami.MP3

Puoi creare un grande impero intorno a te
Costruire grattacieli per contare un pò di più
Puoi comprare tutto quello che vuoi tu
Ma se non ami, se non ami
Non hai un vero motivo per vivere
Se non ami, non ti ami
Non ci sei
[You can build a great empire around you
Construct skyscrapers in order to matter a little bit more
You can buy all the things that you want
But if you don’t love, if you don’t love
You don’t have a true reason for living
If you don’t love, you don’t love yourself
You don’t exist]

Auditory Doritos

I have big intentions. Huge plans and goals. I just can’t conceive them. I’ve always been in awe of songwriters; they make the process of creating a song seem so effortless. I want to do that. I want to carve out the intangible, capture and preserve a feeling, a moment, an emotion, and then pass it on to others. There exists nothing more satisfying.

But tonight, I’ll relegate myself to sharing other people’s songs, so unwax those ears.

1. Super Junior 너라고 (It’s You)

Det blir ikke ofte at jeg forelsker meg i noen, men de få gangene jeg gjør det, faller jeg tungt. Sai questa sensazione di essere innamorato di qualcuno? You’re consumed by an urge to dig, to create a niche for yourself under their skin. Du trenger å være så nær som mulig, som en del av dem. Allora, sono lì, ancora lì.
이미 너는 다른 사랑했겠지만
놓칠 수가 없어 다시 돌이킬 수 없어…

2. Kelly Clarkson Don’t Let Me Stop You

Rockin’. Relatable. Right.

3. Nek ft. Laura Pausini Sei Solo Tu

It’s no secret that I’m a big fan of Nek, e non solo perché è gnocco. His music and lyrics are filled to the brim with emotion and intensity; they stir up feelings of boundlessness and nostalgia, and remind us of the fragility of being human. Mi sento il vivo quando ascolto lui.
Perché mi piaci in ogni modo,
Why do I like you in every way,
da ogni lato o prospettiva, tu?…
From every side and perspective, you?…
E poi sai fare morire un uomo
And you know how to make a man die
con l’innocenza del pudore che non hai…
with the innocent modesty that you don’t possess…
Perché sei bella che mi fai male…
Because you are beautiful that it hurts me…
Sei solo tu nei giorni miei…
There is only you in my days…
Sei solo tu e dimmi che
There is only you, and tell me that
sono questo ora anch’io per te…
I am also the same to you…

4. Cajsa Stina Åkerström Långt Härifrån

This is your standard 90s midnight light rock jam, but what I love about this song is Åkerström’s voice. She traverses the octaves so smoothly and easily, it’s enrapturing.

5. Keith Urban Til Summer Comes Around

And I saved the best for last. God, this song is everything I feel right now: deserted, wishing on something that doesn’t exist yet still persistant and keeping that flickering hope alive. And the guitar riff makes me speechless. This isn’t a song to listen to, this is a song to live.

I think all the songs here on this collection reflect a fragment of my mindset right now. They sing what I couldn’t dare say.

Done, Part I

L’inquietudine

Well, considering I’ve smoked half a carton and downed a liter of beer within the past two hours, it warrants me an excuse to blog now and regret later.

I’ve had as much as I can take. I’ve tried to keep my mind open, my spirit up, my attitude positive, but I can only keep up this façade so far. I’m tired, and I’ve stopped trying. If you were to tell me to pack up my bags tomorrow for California, I wouldn’t argue a word. I’m ready to leave.

I’ve held my trap for as long as possible, thinking “just wait it out, it’ll get better,” but now I see that it won’t. To say that I hate Norway would be an overexaggeration and an insult to my family here. They’ve been nothing but patient, generous, and kind to me and believe me, I’ve guilted myself enough for thinking what I am about to say.

But I hate it here, I really do. I can honestly name you all the people that I talk to at school on one hand. I wake up in the morning to the thought of “How am I going to get through the day? Who am I going to talk to?” Do you realize how hard it is to wake up every morning to that thought? To even worry about how you’re gonna get through the day because you’re afraid that you might not make it to 3:30 without going bezerk? And you wanna know what I do at school? Break? Lunch? Stare at my fucking computer screen.

But I suppose it’s my fault right? That I’m not putting myself out there. That I’m not trying. That I’m not persistent. Or desperate enough to keep on leeching to people that don’t give a damn about me. That don’t want to know me, that won’t even remember me, or if they do–only as “that one kid last year that was boring and didn’t say anything and was by himself the whole time; that ‘mann.’” That after nine fucking months here I’m still as foreign as the day I set foot in Horten.

And I suppose it’s my fault that people here are only friendly when they’re flat out wasted. Because they need the liqueur to warm up their frigid Scandinavian hearts. Because they need 22 cans of Tuborg in order to truly feel free. To say “Hey! How’s it going?!” To give you a high-five, a pat on the back, a hug. Because without alcohol, there’s no way they can even greet you in the hallways!

I know these people, I watch them everyday, and I know that they’re not cold. I can see the way they interact with each other and they are as lively as any American, but they’re so fucking private and excluding. “You get used to it, it takes a long time to be accepted into their circle.” Well you know what? They can keep their privacy and their drunken stupors. I’ve lived without it for nine months, I can live without it for two more.

I came here with an open heart, ready to love this country and know its people, but Norwegians have really disappointed me. I’m sorry that I came here. I’m ready to leave.

至于

Embrace the reality or wither away in sentimentality…

I feel stupid and naïve. This has happened one too many times before, and I’m in the exact position that I warned myself against. Thank you, Tim Papp, for teaching me nothing.

I guess perhaps I was hungry for it, hungry for that feeling of being enamoured in somebody. There’s a warmth in that which can’t be subsituted by the love of friendship or kin. And oh, it made me feel so alive: mornings where you wake up and look forward to a new day and eagerly hop into the shower instead of abusing the snooze; afternoons biking home to vos chansons préférées and thinking that everything is as beautiful and blue as the boundless sky above; emberous nights in the coziness of your room, free to relinquish reality and live an hour or two in fantasy. C’est le poison le plus doux.

J’étais Icarus et il était le soleil, et j’ai fondu si facilement sous ses rayons.

How foolish was I to believe that something concrete could come out of something so brittle? How ignorant was I to think that the only thing of importance was the way we felt? How ridiculously dumb was I to assume that it was we who felt anything? And how irresponsible was I to be so willing to love?

I’m in this pithole because I brought it upon myself. Like a proper masochist, I allowed myself to be tethered by you. Even now, I don’t know what would be better: to not have you cross my mind at all, or to continue in this suffering just to feel your presence in my life.

至于感觉这样吗？