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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sun, 08 Nov 2009 20:38:39 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>isobelll - with 3 l</title><description>Wanna join the other side?</description><link>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>397</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll" type="application/rss+xml" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-1970844920486625690</guid><pubDate>Sat, 07 Nov 2009 19:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-07T20:56:59.762+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Private</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>knew it was to good to be true</title><description>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvVtb97dpYI/AAAAAAAAAlM/NlokaaSeXGY/s1600-h/P6011805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvVtb97dpYI/AAAAAAAAAlM/NlokaaSeXGY/s320/P6011805.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Or is it? Is it better to have loved and been loved in return then not love at all like the famous quote from Moulin Rouge? Ha, I should have listened to myself. I should have know better then to fall in love. To let myself go. To trust. To care. Even though it was beautiful at the time I actually can't handle any more shit happening at the moment. So please. Just don't. Ok? Don't leave me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;Picture: Art Museum in Copenhagen that I visited this summer, can't remember the artist but this one took my breath away. Thank you whoever you are.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The realistic (evil??) voice in my head:&lt;br /&gt;
- "Fuck, listen to yourself??! Are you really gonna beg for someone to stay? Has it come to this? Is it really worth it? Wont you lose yourself, the respect and much more?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Shrugging, I answer: &lt;br /&gt;
-" But I can't, I need... No,I can't even say it. I guess two break ups in a month is some sort of record. Even if it hasn't been finalized yet. I'll find out tomorrow I suppose. At the moment I don't even know what I want. Or actually I do. I want us. I want you. I want this."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A little naive stupid thirteen year old girl is whispering into my left ear as I try to clear my head and forget about everything, even just for a minute:&lt;br /&gt;
- "So it has come to this? You're giving up? Good on ya? No! don't give up. Don't give up on love even though this might not work out. Besides, if its all about the distance then you sure as hell know how to handle it even if the other person doesn't. And as for prioritizing oneself? Well, yeah. But all the movies, all the music, all the art in the world can't be that wrong, now can it? Love is and will always be an important part of all our lives. And it wont go away, it doesn't matter how hard you try. you'll always fall in love again and you'll always get hurt. Again. That's the way life is. Remember Zen, remember acceptance."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I mutter:&lt;br /&gt;
- "pretty please, shout the hell up..."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- "No, I wont. Cause you know that I'm right. you know that the strength you can find in love, falling, bubbling, being loved is not a drug is something else. Something better if you let it be. If you want it to be. Give up this shit about "Alone is Strong" fuck it! You know you'll make it on your own, that's not the point. But letting someone, anyone, even if its "only" a friend love you and let you get inspired, feel something is what its all about."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I close my eyes and reply:&lt;br /&gt;
- "No, I refuse to believe that. Besides. The other person doesn't believe it so why should I? And why should I care at all? I guess I'll find out tomorrow"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And the realist in me resides with a rather confident voice:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- "Told you so, didn't I? You knew it was to good to be true."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Scared of opening my eyes:&lt;br /&gt;
- "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. And I'm so sorry for messing thins up, for letting my chaotic life get that beautiful person into trouble. I'm so sorry."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'll find out tomorrow. But before I hit the publish button I should think for a few more hours. This might actually be over the top, this might actually be way way to private. Not only for the person involved but for me. And for the record, I don't "hear" voices inside my head. Or let me rephrase, we all do. Fuck it all aye? I absolutely hate wintertime. Did I mention that?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Soundtrack: Explosions in the Sky, Tool, A Perfect Circle.&lt;br /&gt;
I'll leave it up to you to check them out this time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I hit the publish button anyways.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-1970844920486625690?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/qvqMz91tTi0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/qvqMz91tTi0/knew-it-was-to-good-to-be-true.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvVtb97dpYI/AAAAAAAAAlM/NlokaaSeXGY/s72-c/P6011805.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/11/knew-it-was-to-good-to-be-true.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-2415662453620763567</guid><pubDate>Sat, 07 Nov 2009 07:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-07T08:07:27.783+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Fears</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Resa</category><title>Can't Stay, Can't Leave</title><description>I just wanna grab my stuff and go, had enough of this shit winter already and its just about to start. And I would if I only could. If I only knew where to go, what to do. Feeling that endless road under my feet again scares the shit out of me at the moment, just as much as knowing I'll be stuck here all winter. Can't Stay, Can't Leave.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvUaxsgz8oI/AAAAAAAAAlE/9V-ZBQzs14M/s1600-h/Christchurch+fountain.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvUaxsgz8oI/AAAAAAAAAlE/9V-ZBQzs14M/s320/Christchurch+fountain.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Started looking for schools again, thought that might be the answer. Thought I might need to finish that degree and then I'll know what I was suppose to do with my life. But I woke up this morning, at 6.30 AM with chills running down my spine. Even if I did get in, even if I finished that damned bachelors degree in sculpture well, so what? There are no jobs anyways and I don't even know if I Can or Wanna work in the art industry at all. So why bother? And I can't seam to sit still in one location for more then a few months. I've been in Sweden for well, I don't know. More or less since July I guess. Got this room and have been mostly in Stockholm since the 1 of September. Two months later I still love my flat mates, they're awesome. Love the apartment, Stockholm and my room but it feels like I need to run again. Can't Stay, Can't Leave.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And a weekend here, a weekend there to just get away? To make that feeling of entrapment ease up a bit? Oh, well. I don't know. Panicked last night, just the thought of having to stick around here. Having no goal, nothing to do or nothing to look forward to freaked me out like shit. Applied for about 15 jobs that I probably wont get anyways cause I'm not qualified enough. Ha, you have to have work experience to get work and well... I don't. I've been studying. And oh, did I mention I've been studying Art? Which basically means I wont get a job anyways. And I'm not looking to build a career, shit I wouldn't even know where to start or what I would wanna do. Even for 6 months at a time. So I approached the problem from a different point of view, I applied for every job I could find that wouldn't immediately make me run and hide. Anything that could get that coin comin' in again. Don't know where to go when I've saved it up again. No goal but at least an escape plan. Even though it looks like I'll be stuck here until next August. And as I've already mentioned - I'm not strong enough to hit the road for real now anyways. Can't Stay, Can't Leave. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Soundtrack: Radiohead - Creep (which was the first song of the day my own radio wanted to play for me)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jzjUjNPYzLg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jzjUjNPYzLg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Person of the Day: Vexillum - who didn't ask questions and was a great late night film company. &lt;br /&gt;
Oh, and you guessed it right. Once again, "&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0168629/"&gt;Dancer in the Dark&lt;/a&gt;". I think it must be the third time in about six weeks now. Favorite movie though, but still. I know every line, I've seen it more then ten times total. And I know that each time I'll find something new to fall in love with and a new place to cry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Picture: Christchurch, New Zealand. A sculpture I found in a fountain in the botanic gardens which I absolutely loved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-2415662453620763567?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/Bizn6cQ0rlQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/Bizn6cQ0rlQ/cant-stay-cant-leave.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvUaxsgz8oI/AAAAAAAAAlE/9V-ZBQzs14M/s72-c/Christchurch+fountain.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/11/cant-stay-cant-leave.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-3466066714400699989</guid><pubDate>Thu, 05 Nov 2009 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-05T18:09:02.288+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">theory</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Party</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">trouble</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">teorier</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">New Zealand</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">NZ</category><title>B-Day; to have or not to have?</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;My B-day is coming up this month and I always feel rather uncomfortable at this time of year. I hate wintertime in Sweden and even though I was right in the starts of summer last year I really didn't wanna celebrate anyways. I kept my birthday a secret and went camping with the Nelson gang, who found out on Facebook (grr) but we had a sweet beach party and I spent a lot of the night listening to the ocean while looking up on the stars, feeling the sand between my&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;toes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Suj42vWDtFI/AAAAAAAAAjM/7g8bRzwjLYk/s1600-h/PB201033.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397837772709147730" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Suj42vWDtFI/AAAAAAAAAjM/7g8bRzwjLYk/s400/PB201033.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 268px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 353px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Suj5EsdiY8I/AAAAAAAAAjU/rM3avuwKWI0/s1600-h/PB201152.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397838012453381058" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Suj5EsdiY8I/AAAAAAAAAjU/rM3avuwKWI0/s400/PB201152.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 461px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 346px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Picture:&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMUSSXRz5aU"&gt; Tataranoi Beach&lt;/a&gt; where we went camping and me after a sweet dip in the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;So what about this year? I was suppose to go to Gotland to meet up with the summer flat gang and have a double b-day party but now I don't know any more. Might not have the time, money or company. Don't know if Zhe will be able to join us either. And then there is this huge issue of the actual celebrating. I think its the same yukiee feeling I get at the back of my throat when I get a sweet honest compliment from a loved one, I really just can't handle it. Ha, might be that teenie Goth girl still trapped inside or the Swedish "jantelagen" which is a saying that you should never try to be special or something more then anyone else. I don't know. It just creeps the hell out of me. Ah, then there are the heaps of spoiled B-Days of course. Gosh, how could I've forgotten them. That might just be it. So the question of the day (directed at myself I guess) is should I go public or hide?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Soundtrack: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DXr3CCQPxJY"&gt;Arcade Fire - My Body is a Cage&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-3466066714400699989?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/Wx3TAlkkxMw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/Wx3TAlkkxMw/b-day-to-have-or-not-to-have.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Suj42vWDtFI/AAAAAAAAAjM/7g8bRzwjLYk/s72-c/PB201033.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/11/b-day-to-have-or-not-to-have.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-4241507984852624906</guid><pubDate>Wed, 04 Nov 2009 09:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-04T11:20:22.371+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art</category><title>I Love my new Tattoo - second time under the needle</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvFSh4a7hSI/AAAAAAAAAk8/ONhvIqAtEQk/s1600-h/tree9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvFSh4a7hSI/AAAAAAAAAk8/ONhvIqAtEQk/s400/tree9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400188170228434210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvFSQ4j-6TI/AAAAAAAAAk0/IJMIY7-Nj1c/s1600-h/tree8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvFSQ4j-6TI/AAAAAAAAAk0/IJMIY7-Nj1c/s400/tree8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400187878208629042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went back, sat on that chair with my good friend the tattooist behind me and felt the needles penetrating my skin again.  I enlarged the tree somewhat, let the branches grow just an inch or two across my shoulders and then it was filling time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd been to Yoga class the night before, which made even my lungs ache. However it did remind me how to focus on  my breathing and all those hours of meditation were also quite helpful. Concentration, meditation, breathing. Soon enough I could feel the oxygen mix up with adrenaline, endorphins spread across my body with a tingling sensation. Here we go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 2.5 hours I was getting kind of light headed though and felt like I was gonna faint but we were so close to the end, I didn't wanna stop! To stubborn for my own good as usual. Even though I could hardly sit up any more and realised that I'd probably taken this heavy breathing thing a wee bit to far. So while the needle kept on with a steady pace I changed strategy and used the sense of fainting to remember how it was to fall asleep, started breathing like I do when I wanna go to the dream land which as silly as it sounds almost happened. If it wasn't for that freaking pain of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bits that were the hardest were across my shoulder blade where it curves just before hitting the armpit. The ribs and spine weren't all to pleasant either. Resting my head on my arm I could literary hear my bones vibrate as the needles hit them. But gah, the lower back was once again the hardest part. Those roots!! And I remembered how it felt getting that rat inked all those years ago. Fuck, that one really hurt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 hours later we were finally done and I could hardly stand up, had to hold on to stuff while trying to get to the mirror. And then the tears came, (or as close as I could being way to tired to actually cry), seeing the end result. I've wanted that tree for such a long time and now its finally here. I can still hardly believe it. But gosh, for every second I'm falling in love just a tad bit more. And I'll probably need to go back under the needle once more to tidy up a bit and fill in a couple of places where the ink didn't wanna stay put but at this point I'm just so glad its over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvFSHKEBinI/AAAAAAAAAks/u0HRV3qv3IY/s1600-h/tree5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvFSHKEBinI/AAAAAAAAAks/u0HRV3qv3IY/s400/tree5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400187711107730034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack: Whatever was on my fake-pod that day which ended up playing in the stereo. Only the "happy-nice-easy listening-soft-stuff" though.&lt;br /&gt;Person of the day: My dear old friend the Tattooist&lt;br /&gt;Crush of the day: Zhe (Surprised? Nah, me neither...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-4241507984852624906?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/HvdnXajBmeU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/HvdnXajBmeU/i-love-my-new-tattoo-second-time-under.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SvFSh4a7hSI/AAAAAAAAAk8/ONhvIqAtEQk/s72-c/tree9.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-love-my-new-tattoo-second-time-under.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-6203002776918200643</guid><pubDate>Sun, 01 Nov 2009 13:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-01T14:47:55.063+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Relationshp Anarchy</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Relationship Anarchy</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>It's all over with Cat</title><description>Gosh, I don't even know where to begin. Its all over between me and Cat. We've been trying all summer long but after "breaking up" again and again it finally ended last week. (The quote marks mean that we're both relationship anarchists) I knew it would come. And I guess it was a sorta mutual decision even if I was crying all the way. The Silent Treatment made me cave and realize that it just couldn't go on like this. We were only hurting one another, real bad. Never the less, as that dreadful day came where I just knew what was gonna happen I still didn't wanna do it. As we strolled along the path to the same spot Cat had taken me about one and a half years ago, I could feel the wasteland that grown and somehow fitted between us as we walked side by side. But this time it wasn't a nice and bubbly experience walking down to that old mansion by the water, this time Cat took me there to break up. Or we broke up I guess I should say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we must have walked and talked for almost two hours, almost beginning to fight a couple of times, confessing everything bad that had happened. Why we both felt let down and hurt. Why we weren't able to solve the problems earlier and so on. I couldn't stop my tears from falling. And at the very end, when Cat had to run of to a meeting I just said something like "say hi from me to the others" turned around and took some of the hardest steps of my life. Maybe it was me imagining things but I could feel Cat's eyes upon me, wanting to say something but knowing nothing would help now. I think I must have sat on that bench, that I found at a near by lake, for quite a while - not being able to stop crying. As I finally pulled myself together I was frozen through and through. I know we can't be friends at the moment but oh how I do miss you in my life, Cat. I'm grateful for everything that you taught me, helped me with and for letting me love you. I guess I always will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Su2QyIVC2oI/AAAAAAAAAkk/oq01-dkqwiQ/s1600-h/Cat+holding+cat.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 259px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Su2QyIVC2oI/AAAAAAAAAkk/oq01-dkqwiQ/s400/Cat+holding+cat.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399130719190702722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pic: Cat holding a Cat.&lt;br /&gt;(I hope Cat isn't pissed of or offended with me publishing this one&lt;br /&gt;but even if you knew who Cat was you wouldn't recognize it from this pic).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I got home I took all the stuff that immediately reminded me of cat and locked them away, I put all our sweet photos and put them in a map called "X - don't look at this" on my computer. I untagged our kissing pics on Facebook and realized that however hard I'd try I didn't wanna eliminate our past from my life at all. But for now, I have to. Just for now. Just a tad wee while. I hope that one day we can find our way back to a sweet friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at the very end, without being able to blame anyone for what happened (cause there none, no isolated events, just a long complex process and more misunderstandings, letting down's and hurting one another's then just about anyone can handle) there's just one thing left to say; I'm sorry, Cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TbCIQ-SKhKE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TbCIQ-SKhKE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack: Antony &amp;amp; The Johnsons - Cripple and the Starfish&lt;br /&gt;That I played over and over again as I first fell in love with you,&lt;br /&gt;in January 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-6203002776918200643?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/CMtqEQ2IrCk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/CMtqEQ2IrCk/its-all-over-with-cat.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Su2QyIVC2oI/AAAAAAAAAkk/oq01-dkqwiQ/s72-c/Cat+holding+cat.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/11/its-all-over-with-cat.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-7102106658372219133</guid><pubDate>Fri, 30 Oct 2009 07:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-30T10:45:00.541+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art</category><title>I Love my New Tattoo</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Sujpyr9XUOI/AAAAAAAAAi8/Kmmyws71mWc/s1600-h/tattoo1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Sujpyr9XUOI/AAAAAAAAAi8/Kmmyws71mWc/s400/tattoo1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397821210406375650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of the best decisions I've ever made I think, I'm madly in love with it! I've been thinking about getting a tree for quite a while now, letting the idea so to say "grow on me". And I finally decided when my old friend and tattooist came back to Stockholm. I'm gonna do it! First he filled in my old ones. I've got one of my first pet rat (which also is a symbol of Ying and Yang + its got a water sign at the very bottom) on my lower back and a stamp on my ass saying "Made in germany" (Yes, I'm not kidding and I love it!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I hit the drawing board thinking it should be rather easy to get it out of my head and on to paper but oh no, I was proven wrong. I'd taken about a 150 photographs from all over the world of trees that I liked and downloaded about 50 or so more. Researching all the different types and discarding sketch after sketch. I had a photograph of my back which I was able to pin my ideas on in Adobe Illustrator (man am I glad I actually learnt that program even though I hated the teacher). And with the help of my sweet computer I had a design after about one week of solid work and virtually no sleep. But as I got the print in my hands I just wanted to make some quick changes... Which turned into 22 sketches (might have been more) and another week of hard work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw trees everywhere, they were nailed to my eye lids and as I closed them at yoga class, meditating or dance class I really couldn't focus on anything else but getting that last branch just a tad more to the left. I ended up with a tree that was completely different from what I originally thought I would and got quite nervous. But as I sat, once again, up until 4 AM in the morning the day before my opointment (falling asleep with the pencil in my hand - again!) I finally fell in love with it. Could feel it literary growing on me. And of course it hurt getting it inked but it healed quickly and now a week later its only a bit itchy still. Going back for a fill and more work though. And I'm looking forward to using a bra this weekend, which of obvious reasons hasn't been an option lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what does it mean? Why a tree? Well, I've always been, as Spikey in Nelson so nicely put it, a "nature girl".  I'm a environmentalist, a vegan, a veggie, an animal lover and so on. I've not taken any existing tree but worked with my own. Its tilted to the left cause the Swedish socialist anarchist communist political parties are all to the left and as you might know I'm all the way out on the left side. Of course there are lots of private and hidden meanings within. In fact, I ended up writing a whole list of stuff on my wall. I can just say, I'm falling in love with it just a wee bit more for each day. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHE33rVuj_8"&gt;Yann Tiersen - La Corde&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://open.spotify.com/album/77DRf1X1rVBDhXVaIogs2X"&gt;The complete album I've had on repeat is here if you've got spotify.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-7102106658372219133?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/77zyxm4OYpE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/77zyxm4OYpE/i-love-my-new-tattoo.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Sujpyr9XUOI/AAAAAAAAAi8/Kmmyws71mWc/s72-c/tattoo1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-love-my-new-tattoo.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-7857117529050171907</guid><pubDate>Thu, 29 Oct 2009 01:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-29T12:10:33.102+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">trouble</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>Welcome back, Yvaine!</title><description>My dear Yvaine suffered a breakdown a while back and but she's now up to speed again, loving the tapping of my fingers. Kazai was the hero of the day and took her under his wings. It seamed that Windows Vista which I've been hating ever since I got the laptop killed her slowly until she couldn't fight back any more. So after reinstalling and trying again and again with Vista we finally gave up and headed on to Windows 7. And Wow! This one is actually working, I must also confess that I'm rather infatuated with the new design and features. There is only one small problem... Cause the operating system is so new my beloved Yvaine who bares the last name of Asus hasn't quite got the hint yet and a lot of the neat shortcuts, special buttons and functions aren't working. I'm keeping my fingers crossed though and also hoping that she'll keep with me this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome back, Yvaine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack dedicated to my dear love Yvaine: Ayo - Down on my knee's&lt;br /&gt;This song always brings me back to a sweaty run down hookers palace in Bangkok which a sweet group of people were making over to a cool backpackers. I spent a couple of nights sleeping on the roof top and a couple of night partying in the downstairs bar while a good looking guy was hitting on me as he put this song on. Ha! My mind was already very made up however, no more men. Even thought he was real fine and unfortunately not my type at all ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pNabseUJeio&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pNabseUJeio&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-7857117529050171907?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/lV_8sxJ2mTE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/lV_8sxJ2mTE/welcome-back-yvaine.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/welcome-back-yvaine.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-4310220056188214308</guid><pubDate>Thu, 29 Oct 2009 00:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-29T01:32:29.657+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Money</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">trouble</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Family</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">musik</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">music</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">youtube</category><title>When my blog goes silent...</title><description>... it doesn't mean I've got nothing to say. Often it means I've got way to much to get it on print. Either I'm out in the big world on adventures or I'm having another one of those nice episodes of chaos in my life. (Well, there's always a state of chaos in my life to be honest.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for the last few weeks everything's been upside down, again. Job problems, money issues and social breakdowns - it's been kinda hard but I'm still here. I just need to catch my breath for a while. Reminding myself of meditating each day, listening to that "wise mind" voice. Keeping track of the thirteen year old way to in love insecure girl hidden inside my body just longing for the next txt from Zhe. Its been nearly a month since we last meet, we've tried over and over again but our schedules just don't seam to fit. Which Sucks. Real bad. At the moment, (Oh I haven't given up hope yet) it looks like it could be until after Christmas!! And that thirteen year old girl inside me is screaming, jumping and going all sorts of mad inside, mostly cause she's just really lonely without him I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack: Michael Jackson&lt;br /&gt;A suggestion from my mum, its a special family day today. Love ya! This one is for you. &lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aWeyLLzyIUw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aWeyLLzyIUw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-4310220056188214308?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/Ucjlk5qgglM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/Ucjlk5qgglM/when-my-blog-goes-silent.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/when-my-blog-goes-silent.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-8228356622402410959</guid><pubDate>Sat, 17 Oct 2009 07:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-17T09:44:28.981+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Family</category><title>Congratulations Mum!!</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Stl1iohTQVI/AAAAAAAAAis/nEFIUvnLflY/s1600-h/PA250046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Stl1iohTQVI/AAAAAAAAAis/nEFIUvnLflY/s400/PA250046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393471266605973842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Welcome to our ever growing happy family of Veggies! Love Ya!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-8228356622402410959?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/1tR_fFebwks" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/1tR_fFebwks/congratulations-mum.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Stl1iohTQVI/AAAAAAAAAis/nEFIUvnLflY/s72-c/PA250046.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/congratulations-mum.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-3543920472658714445</guid><pubDate>Wed, 14 Oct 2009 23:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-15T01:32:17.813+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Fears</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>Lost and Found department</title><description>So once again, communication is what makes the world go round. Ok, I see. Well, thanks for letting me know Mr. Obvious. Doesn't make it any easier though. But I did it. I found the words. Finally. I think the hardest part was admitting them to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack: Björk - Pagen Poetry. &lt;a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/bjork/paganpoetry.html"&gt;Lyrics.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MZM78xpiSeQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MZM78xpiSeQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-3543920472658714445?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/e-sH7n32Hqw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/e-sH7n32Hqw/lost-and-found-department.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/lost-and-found-department.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-5852556308983046490</guid><pubDate>Wed, 14 Oct 2009 15:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-15T10:51:52.975+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Fears</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>At a loss for words</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StXr49a5QtI/AAAAAAAAAiM/1N1qAgIJd18/s1600-h/PA122156.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StXr49a5QtI/AAAAAAAAAiM/1N1qAgIJd18/s400/PA122156.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392475492638606034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't know what to say,  what to think, how to feel. I don't even know how I could put it all in a txt, without getting way to private. I'm sorry, you caught me off-guard. So I'm at a loss for words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kazai:&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; "Now you're the one giving hen &lt;a href="http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/silent-treatment.html"&gt;"The Silent Treatment"!!&lt;/a&gt; Stop thinking about yourself for a moment and think of the other person...!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I will. I'm sorry. Just don't know what to say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Can't you just say what you feel?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't dare to admit it even to myself, I'm sorry. Even though you probably already know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture: Urban Exploration tour of Stockholm, day before yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack: Youtube video sent by txt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-5852556308983046490?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/zzy6p3ZVEI8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/zzy6p3ZVEI8/at-loss-for-words.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StXr49a5QtI/AAAAAAAAAiM/1N1qAgIJd18/s72-c/PA122156.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/at-loss-for-words.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-384906693188159728</guid><pubDate>Mon, 12 Oct 2009 09:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-13T19:01:00.934+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">musik</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">music</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">youtube</category><title>I dedicate my week to Massive Attack</title><description>Sunday its all gonna happen, I'm gonna check out &lt;a href="http://massiveattack.com/"&gt;Massive Attack&lt;/a&gt; with my mum! Yay! Lots of year ago when they came to Sweden I said to myself  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Oh, well. They're probably awesome but I really don't have to see them live" &lt;/span&gt;and wow did I regret that! Even though they're not in my playlist at any given time I've still loved them since forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First love was Karmakoma which I watched on MTV as a teenie and got scared shitless. It was just about the same time as &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Az_7U0-cK0"&gt;"Come to Daddy" with Ahpex&lt;/a&gt; Twin came on and that one also brightened up my fear of the dark. Thank you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Massive Attack - Karmakoma:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AXQw1DCtPf4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AXQw1DCtPf4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the time before internet entered my life for real and I had absolutely no idea who Massive Attack was until I one day in the record store (which I rarely visited due to low founds) found the album &lt;a href="http://massiveattack.com/wiki/index.php/Protection"&gt;"Protection"&lt;/a&gt; on sale and &lt;a href="http://massiveattack.com/wiki/index.php/Blue_Lines"&gt;"Blue Lines"&lt;/a&gt; next to. Wow! I was bluffed and the Cd's didn't leave my stereo for ages. Got the &lt;a href="http://massiveattack.com/wiki/index.php/Mezzanine"&gt;"Mezzanine"&lt;/a&gt; as soon as it hit the stores. So now its finally time, Massive Attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://open.spotify.com/user/isobelll/playlist/2JeoreNSJEksuX4CQnsJwA"&gt;Soundtrack: A week dedicated to Massive Attack.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-384906693188159728?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/knEeu7I_YDE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/knEeu7I_YDE/i-dedicate-my-week-to-massive-attack.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-dedicate-my-week-to-massive-attack.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-2171372375123218775</guid><pubDate>Sun, 11 Oct 2009 20:13:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-13T11:46:05.811+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Fears</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Relationshp Anarchy</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Relationship Anarchy</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>I've just turned thirteen. Again.</title><description>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;...Pretty, please. I really don't want this. I really can't handle this. I need to stay in control, to have my focus on what's important. On my future. I wont allow myself to lose sight of my goals. The only problem is that I can't stop it. I guess I never could. And once again my goals get altered. Not the big one's, I'd already decided to stay in Sweden a while longer. To rest and put all the pieces of my puzzle that I've gathered over the last year on the floor, turn each one over a couple of times and find out what to do next. But what I wasn't prepared for was this. You.&lt;/span&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I absolutely hate falling in love. Can't handle it. Everyone else keeps on telling me to just enjoy the ride, that at least the one I'm being all bubble hearts for is actually feeling the same thing. But that really doesn't matter. Its not a question just about losing control of my own life, wanting to give it all up for just one more minute with him. Its about losing control over my sanity. It feels like I'm in a massive battle, I've already lost but I'm not quite prepared to put down my weapons just yet. That will make it hurt even worse if this is just a fling.&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;I've just turned thirteen. Again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My stereo keeps on playing silly little love songs, my eyes keep on starring into empty space and my tummy keeps on hurting - every time I get a txt from you, every time I don't. &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;I've just turned thirteen. Again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StRMKMzCVOI/AAAAAAAAAiE/h80lmSH2CdI/s1600-h/24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StRMKMzCVOI/AAAAAAAAAiE/h80lmSH2CdI/s400/24.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392018391987016930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me and Zhe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Oh, I can't keep calling you Mr. B even though you got the honer of choosing your own nick on my blog its just not working for me. So I'll call you Zhe which in Chinese translates to "Anarchist", just like you are. &lt;a class="word" href="http://usa.mdbg.net/chindict/chindict.php?cdqchi=%E8%80%85" onclick="return aj9c3eb4(this,'cdqchi',1,'者')"&gt;者&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://usa.mdbg.net/chindict/chindict.php#" onclick="return voicePopup('rsc/audio/voice_pinyin_cl/zhe3.mp3', 'zhě')"&gt;zhě&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;​)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a nightmare about Zhe. He said that since we're both relationship anarchist I wouldn't mind if he spent the night in my flatmates bed or if we could all just stay in there together. What? Uhm, no? RA is about finding out what we want and not what the norm has taught us about being in love. But that does Not mean that its ok to do just everything, its about communicating. Hmm, think I sorta lost the point I was trying to make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never the less, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"uhm, no...?"&lt;/span&gt; I txt'd him back and woke up to check my cell. Nothing. No answer. And no txt saying what I'd obviously only dreamt. Nothing. In fact, nothing for the whole entire day! As it got up to 24 hours, preciously &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(yes, I'm 13??)&lt;/span&gt; at 3.54 pm, I thought it was just as well to set my mind into "get over him" mode. It was only then that I realised how far it had gone. That even if I wanted to I couldn't stop it now. So a very sad little dead Zombie walked the streets at &lt;a href="http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/stockholm-zombie-walk.html"&gt;"The Stockholm Zombie Walk"&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;I've just turned thirteen. Again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can almost set my alarm to my mood swings, when I think that the world has gone under and everything is just plain and utter horrible existence. Its about 3 hours since the last txt from Zhe. Yup, I know, I'm sorry. I've tried. And the second I get another txt it starts all over again. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;I've just turned thirteen. Again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hours later, after checking my cell way to often, it beeped again. Oh, How I love that sound!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course I'd just been a fool, he'd slept all day. He's not addicted to txt's like I am, not to facebook, like I am. He's simply just... gah, way to good to be true? Ha, listen to yourself Girl! Its hopeless to fight it off now, just sit back and enjoy the ride. I simply replied with turning the camera on me and sending him a zombie. =) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;I've just turned thirteen. Again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next night I didn't have any nightmares, I fell sound asleep as quickly as I hit the pillow and woke up as my cell beeped again (which I rarely do, or if I do I fall strait back to sleep). And while reading a cute &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Good Night"&lt;/span&gt; txt, I fell asleep again with the cell tightly in my hands.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;That's how I know that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;I've turned Thirteen. Again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Soundtrack (in Swedish): Lars Winnerbäck - Du får mig (, jag ger mig)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-2171372375123218775?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/O7Lnc6FuTfg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/O7Lnc6FuTfg/ive-just-turned-thirteen-again.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StRMKMzCVOI/AAAAAAAAAiE/h80lmSH2CdI/s72-c/24.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/ive-just-turned-thirteen-again.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-6341435873422021060</guid><pubDate>Sun, 11 Oct 2009 16:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-11T22:12:17.148+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Party</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Fears</category><title>Stockholm Zombie Walk</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StIcSZ43h6I/AAAAAAAAAhk/7Ze_i2cgHos/s1600-h/zombie2+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StIcSZ43h6I/AAAAAAAAAhk/7Ze_i2cgHos/s400/zombie2+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391402806428534690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StIcCShLeDI/AAAAAAAAAhc/RSf51gZ7rao/s1600-h/zombie+eye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StIcCShLeDI/AAAAAAAAAhc/RSf51gZ7rao/s400/zombie+eye.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391402529572223026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Photographer: Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the worst idea ever! But it might just have been the medicine the doctor ordered... I'm really scared of the dark and all that shit so taking a sweet walk though the city with a horde of Zombies just doesn't feel right. But I did. Maybe cause I wanted to overcome my fear. But the important part was to show my support to anything that's happening on the streets, anything that makes people leave their home and have some fun outside - with people they don't even know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I bought the necessary ingredients and mixed my own fake blood. 45 minutes later I had "the perfect shade of red" or rather I had run out of food dye, time and got tired of mixing in both acrylic and pigments to get the right tone. So all of us hit the bathroom mirrors and splashed (slashed?) us some sweet (yeah, syrup was the main ingredient) blood on ourselves and hit town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might be able to handle Zombies from now on, at least a bit better but fuck - even though I was a part of the walk the others freaked me out anyways. And I tried to scare the crowd but one of them said "Buh!" and I almost screamed and tried to scare him back. Might have tried to hard though, sorry for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hardest part was staying serious while we all were moaning down the street and when a guy said "Swineflu" I cracked up. Hearing "Thriller" get blasted over a town square near the end of the walk was kinda hilarious too. The only real negative critique I've got is that the walk was way to long, took about 2 hours? Something like that and it was way to cold. Even though Zombies don't freeze, I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I got home and looked myself in the mirror, yaiks...!! Decided to give the Zombie party a try and to my surprise they played Dubstep in the little underground (normally Medieval) bar and I hit the dance floor. So I got just as disappointed when the next DJ came on and had the normal boring industrial EMB, no thanks. Had a pretty sweet night though, accidentally scared a girl on the subway. Oopps... No I'm sorry. Its not my real Blood, I feel just fine thank you. Just a bit dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightmares? Nope. I know, I'm real proud too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;I know, I'm never gonna do it again!&lt;br /&gt;Not as long as I live, or wait a minute. Its to late already isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StIcel2zL9I/AAAAAAAAAhs/mJUHrkTS3R0/s1600-h/7232_146671025793_568430793_2830804_5052694_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StIcel2zL9I/AAAAAAAAAhs/mJUHrkTS3R0/s400/7232_146671025793_568430793_2830804_5052694_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391403015799517138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Photographer: Olle Shalin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So What do you think, do I qualify as a Zombie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StIckihDWxI/AAAAAAAAAh0/4n05lVEcj7I/s1600-h/7020_1062631585802_1826359737_134211_7690306_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StIckihDWxI/AAAAAAAAAh0/4n05lVEcj7I/s400/7020_1062631585802_1826359737_134211_7690306_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391403117982210834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Photographer: ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack: Michael Jackson - Thriller&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-6341435873422021060?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/n_PPBdyYcSg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/n_PPBdyYcSg/stockholm-zombie-walk.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/StIcSZ43h6I/AAAAAAAAAhk/7Ze_i2cgHos/s72-c/zombie2+copy.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/stockholm-zombie-walk.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-2769948449014839540</guid><pubDate>Sat, 10 Oct 2009 07:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-10T09:41:46.194+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">trouble</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Private</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">whine</category><title>The silent treatment</title><description>I absolutely can't stand it! It drives me nuts when people give me the silent treatment either in IRL fights, throw other means of communication or just because they forgot. I Can't stand it! When fighting I need to know that the other one is there, that the person is reacting to what I'm saying and not just letting me babble about. It feels like I have to fill the silence with something, often more yelling. And I really can't even begin to tell you how much I hate having fights when the other person hasn't got the nerve to tell me that I'm wrong. Of course I'll get even angrier at the time but then I can at least get over it and try to understand and calm down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but there's more to the silent treatment. Like when people you care about, a lot, just forget to contact you at all. I'm so tired of being the one who's always txting people. Oh, I know I've got that whole issue with being a txt addict and I know I'm absolutely horrible at replying mails on time or at all. But please pretty please, don't shout me out of your life. Not to mention the people you know haven't forgot about you but just "don't have the time" or are just real bad at replying txt's. Humpf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsyovzA0i1I/AAAAAAAAAhM/ZZc-qOUeBkE/s1600-h/P5311710.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsyovzA0i1I/AAAAAAAAAhM/ZZc-qOUeBkE/s320/P5311710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389868393156610898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And while writing this I might mention that I've got a real nasty little voice at the back of my head saying&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; "Oh, little one. Don't you know? They aren't giving you the silent treatment at all, they simply just couldn't care enough to bother talking to you..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that the truth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I also hate to fact that I've some how gotten more and more private on the blog even though I probably shouldn't. Scared about posting, scared about not posting and just keeping a happy smile and scared about... oh, you know me, just about everything  guess. Ha, nah I'm not that "strong and stubborn girl" a lot of people might think. I'm just good at pretending and "Fake it 'til ya make it!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, I should really start taking my own advice. Putting the mantra "Fake it 'til ya make it" in a cheerful voice on repeat. Good one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture from a exhibition in Copenhagen earlier this year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-2769948449014839540?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/RNkEunfrC3w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/RNkEunfrC3w/silent-treatment.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsyovzA0i1I/AAAAAAAAAhM/ZZc-qOUeBkE/s72-c/P5311710.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/silent-treatment.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-880659868251459044</guid><pubDate>Thu, 08 Oct 2009 17:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-08T19:12:12.461+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Larp</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">theory</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Lajv</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Veggie</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">teorier</category><title>Guardian Angel</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Ssn-_wgx9iI/AAAAAAAAAfU/QCZAhbV1oRo/s1600-h/P8250381.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Ssn-_wgx9iI/AAAAAAAAAfU/QCZAhbV1oRo/s320/P8250381.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389118800433116706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've always thought that there had to be guardian angels out there, friends who'd never ever let you down but I realised last week that that's not the case at all. No one let me down but after coming back from the larp "Våra Drömmars Stad" I started to analyse the scene that had meant the most to me and why it was so hard to let go. My character had gotten herself in a real bad situation and another one was trying to help her, which was rather impossible both in physical and emotional sense of the word. But then the person said, "How do you know I'm not your guardian angel?". And my world came to a complete stand still. Both in-game and as I later realised, off-game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I got back home I wrote it all down and found out why it'd been so hard to accept. As I preciously said, I've always believed in Guardian Angels but just as my character couldn't be saved I can't be "saved" by someone/something else then myself. No one out there, no matter how much they mean to me or I to them can step up and carry my troubles. As the larp ended and my character "lost" his Guardian Angel simply cause the game ended, I too lost mine. Knowing that there are none. And also seeing another aspect of Relationship Anarchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In "normal" relationships you're (almost) always meant to be the other one's Guardian Angel, saviour and complete partner. Something that can't be demanded of anyone. You're always responsible for your own actions, of course, but as we're always made to believe in media - "someone will always catch me when I fall". &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_cb9TUmvhJo"&gt;(Like in one of the most moving moments in my favorite movie "Dancer in the Dark" with Björk, by Lars von Trier. The song is called "In the musicals").&lt;/a&gt; So I'm sorry for everything I've demanded of the people who have been closest to me at the time, I'm sorry for asking of you to "save" me although you never even had the power to to what I begged you for. We're all in this alone. And this I say with a "wise mind voice". We can listen to people, visit places, get to know animals but we can never demand of them to take care of everything. And the most important thing, a so called partner can never be held responsible for you mistakes/troubles/problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just have to keep reminding myself that media is once again wrong about stuff. Just as they are wrong about consuming more makes us happy, war isn't to bad if its far away and meat is everyone's right cause we should kill animals for food and marriage is the goal of everyone's life. Ok, now I might be a bit harsh but Media isn't all to kind to the one's who've seen behind the curtains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The Picture is taken in the middle of Stockholm where I found a little angel flying about and doing its business.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no Guardian Angels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack:&lt;a href="http://open.spotify.com/track/5fc7xPuLYy4BhI6u24mFYC"&gt; Mint Royale - See you in the morning.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's thanks goes to Kazai, for always trying. Love ya!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-880659868251459044?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/oHfAdjXTyFU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/oHfAdjXTyFU/guardian-angel.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Ssn-_wgx9iI/AAAAAAAAAfU/QCZAhbV1oRo/s72-c/P8250381.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/guardian-angel.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-3862634368689063022</guid><pubDate>Wed, 07 Oct 2009 23:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-08T02:43:07.487+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>Admitting is the first step?</title><description>Whispers... I admit. Its to late. I've fallen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to listen to all the advice; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Its better to have love and lost the never have loved at all", "Go for it girl!", "Just enjoy falling", "Don't give in to your fear.", "its already to late - look at yourself! You've already fallen for fucks sake, sis'!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the one advice that actually made me think twice and I to really appreciate everyone's - pretty please don't get me wrong. Maybe cause it just hit the right spot, while looking at my small Buddha statue and having the urge to meditate it got me to think strait for a second or two. And I quote;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Ss0yj7LkAII/AAAAAAAAAhU/OREDwec1-QY/s1600-h/P3260218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Ss0yj7LkAII/AAAAAAAAAhU/OREDwec1-QY/s400/P3260218.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390019921795350658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"You will only find zen in stillness if stillness is indeed your purpose. The zen of the wind is to blow and of the heart, to pump.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is precisely about your bubbles, here and now. Fear and denial are the distractions that keep you from allowing yourself to be crazy and irrational (or rationally insane?) and go along with where those dangerous feelings are taking you.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This is long past "do or do not". You are already committed to action. Make that action count!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;THAT is where your zen is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when, occasionally, the world throws you flat on the ass, then your zen shall be to land."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh! Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And TCDG (The Cute Danish Guy) just added &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(the comments are from FB under my status feed: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="UIStory_Message"&gt;is scared of that thing called "falling in love" and wont admit to anyone/herself that its happening. Can anyone please hit the "Stop button"??&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"What is love?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If love was to be controlled?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What is love?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If love was without complications?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What is love?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If love was anything else then the anarchistic feeling it is?!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thank you all for listening to my never ending babble mouth, whining, fearing, bubbling. Love ya' all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what made me finally admit that its already way to late for turning back was hearing the person say that they had the same bubbles about me. So I finally admit, I've fallen. And I'm scared to death. Can't handle having someone else have that effect on me, letting anyone be that important, losing control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture: While I was in Thailand earlier this year, checking out every temple I could possibly find and have the energy/time to explore. Now little pictures of Buddha's and a small statue gets me to remember to slow down and find my "wise mind".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Embarrassingly long soundtrack on open display:&lt;br /&gt;(links from spotify, my new friend in the glory of free internet while I'm hating the ipred law)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://open.spotify.com/track/7z0JcZ8PQoAfUaLIXvbyTH"&gt;Extreme - More then words &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://open.spotify.com/track/6A9v9b1pbPgvhde4rQHwnf"&gt;Simply Red - Stars&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://open.spotify.com/track/0aDTFe6We50M1CaI8ltZCp"&gt;Blink 182 - Miss you&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://open.spotify.com/track/6VSevjTGJhThXqd3Pfeu1D"&gt;Mint Royale - The effect on me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://open.spotify.com/track/7i05xNVmJyhSgYhsQijvJn"&gt;Lars Winnerbäck - Du får mig&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the list goes on and on... Good thing I remembered turning off last fm scrobbler, or did I??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-3862634368689063022?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/gY4hQ-TQJ9I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/gY4hQ-TQJ9I/admiting-is-first-step.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Ss0yj7LkAII/AAAAAAAAAhU/OREDwec1-QY/s72-c/P3260218.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/admiting-is-first-step.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-2303766630212453883</guid><pubDate>Wed, 07 Oct 2009 12:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-07T15:19:28.891+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Private</category><title>Press pause on Reality</title><description>I'm not buying it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to stabilise, trying to find some solid ground in all the chaos around me but just ending up where I stated. Starring at a lantern and not really knowing what to do next. Ha, it seams to always sound like this. Yup, that's me. Never knowing what I want or where I should go. And once again I slipped, spent way to much time in my little room , and hoped I might find out where to go from here. Nope. My head is as empty as it was before, except of the fact that my tummy's empty too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsyRY2B9msI/AAAAAAAAAg0/aeUeePbxCQ8/s1600-h/P6052653.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 315px; height: 237px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsyRY2B9msI/AAAAAAAAAg0/aeUeePbxCQ8/s400/P6052653.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389842710062275266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So today's mission is not climbing a ruin in Visby, not to accept that I'm slowly falling (in love), not to save the world but simply... oh, heck I've got no idea. Do you? Or the future me reading this? I only know I'm not fully agreeing with this thing people call reality. And why the fuck should I? But its time to wake up now, honey Smell the coffee (tea) and what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little bubble of chaos. Press pause on reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack: Björk&lt;br /&gt;The picture is from a Klimax demonstration earlier this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, of course! Now I know what's wrong! Its Autumn in Sweden. Welcome to my reality. Even though my life is always in a state of chaos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-2303766630212453883?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/5zGlwyOPjTU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/5zGlwyOPjTU/this-thing-people-call-reality.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsyRY2B9msI/AAAAAAAAAg0/aeUeePbxCQ8/s72-c/P6052653.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-thing-people-call-reality.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-6200606919436647712</guid><pubDate>Tue, 06 Oct 2009 11:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-06T14:03:09.821+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Party</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Fest</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">LOL</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Resa</category><title>A mission in Visby</title><description>The Happy Visby gang from this summer, with newcomers and missed one's, meet up for the annual "Visby Culture Night" to catch up and party hard. Yay us! These things usually never happen even if you say &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"oh, we are really gonna try and see each other again."&lt;/span&gt; But we did. And we even managed to complete the mission that we set out to do, so many months before. So here it goes and I really do hope I wont get into trouble cause of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we'd checked out the weather forecast we rescheduled our mission and had it on Friday instead of Saturday, which was a real good choice. To bad everyone hadn't arrived at the time though. Me, Fiffi and Mr. B talked about making an art installation to contribute to The Night of Culture in Visby and our theme was "Distance". Fiffi had made beautiful lantern's which we grabbed along with a bunch of other candles that could withstand the cold wind and made our merry way through the streets of Visby. (Yeah, after a drink or two we might add. And also after my talk with Mr. B so I was all filled with fresh hope and bubbles I might add.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. B who's from Visby took us to an old Church ruin and told us how to get inside. I could feel my already high bubble level going up another nudge and followed the others without hesitation. The old building had lots of little secrets to share and soon enough we were all, after a few adventures and climbing on top of it but it surely felt like we were on top of the world, or at least Visby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoTRZBNwdI/AAAAAAAAAf8/cTHfEyFfpEc/s1600-h/PA031045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoTRZBNwdI/AAAAAAAAAf8/cTHfEyFfpEc/s400/PA031045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389141093596905938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Fiffi's Lanterns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We started spreading out the candles, took out the lantern's and lit it all up. We'd of course forgotten a couple of candles that we bought especially for the lantern but it was just as beautiful anyways. Fiffi told us how she'd thought about the "Distance" project and that she wanted to illustrate the distance between people by making two pairs of lanterns that were perfectly made for each other, almost hugging one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was my turn. I'd thought I make something out of wire, which is my favourite material, but couldn't think of anything to do! After a bit of panicking and a deadline pressing I gave up and did something completely different, like I always do. So I brought along about 25 friendship bracelet's which I'd spent night and day making for the last week. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Now there doesn't have to be a distance between us at all!"&lt;/span&gt; I said and we all hugged while putting them on. Yay!! Ok, might not be to big of an art project to the world but we had lots of fun and it was real special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as a little extra note, Fiffi came up check on me when I was real hung over and asked if me and Mr. B 'd like it if we could share one of the lanterns. What? Wow, yes please - we'd love too!!! So we each lit a candle and sat them side by side where they kept us and each other company all Sunday night and wrapped them in tightly on Monday morning. And the first thing I did when I got home was to pull it out, check that it had survived the boat trip and put it beside my laptop. They act as a firm memory, a real piece of evidence of the weekends wickedness. The whole thing seams very unreal but then again, I look at the lantern as it sits here beside me and remember all the love (there were 7 of us) and sweet adventures we had. Then it all becomes almost to real. Thanks, Fiffi! They are truely wonderfull!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack: Sidewalk  - "Everything is us"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://open.spotify.com/track/1NVu1qaiqxEhdNyyqomsOz"&gt;(If you got Spotify, here's the track!)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoTv2p3aEI/AAAAAAAAAgU/1CvSnD2xpvM/s1600-h/PA031067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoTv2p3aEI/AAAAAAAAAgU/1CvSnD2xpvM/s400/PA031067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389141616948111426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoTYKOrcpI/AAAAAAAAAgE/HqEu9FLJY_E/s1600-h/PA031059.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoTYKOrcpI/AAAAAAAAAgE/HqEu9FLJY_E/s400/PA031059.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389141209885930130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was dark when we got there but we&lt;br /&gt;left little traces of candles (safe one's) behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoT3d5vwiI/AAAAAAAAAgc/g8wpBFWaG80/s1600-h/PA031074.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoT3d5vwiI/AAAAAAAAAgc/g8wpBFWaG80/s400/PA031074.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389141747742786082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoTpHp4i-I/AAAAAAAAAgM/eC6ly_JqcII/s1600-h/PA031061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoTpHp4i-I/AAAAAAAAAgM/eC6ly_JqcII/s400/PA031061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389141501252504546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our candles as we placed them around the Church ruin.&lt;br /&gt;And I even caught the full (well, almost) moon ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoUG2Mw1rI/AAAAAAAAAgk/F-6WzmpYE7U/s1600-h/PA031094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoUG2Mw1rI/AAAAAAAAAgk/F-6WzmpYE7U/s400/PA031094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389142011963037362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The little lights are our candles. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-6200606919436647712?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/1boJfeDcQmU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/1boJfeDcQmU/mission-in-visby.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsoTRZBNwdI/AAAAAAAAAf8/cTHfEyFfpEc/s72-c/PA031045.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/mission-in-visby.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-3990241870354560958</guid><pubDate>Mon, 05 Oct 2009 11:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-05T18:14:38.233+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Relationship Anarchy</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Resa</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>Little pieces of my heart</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Ssnt8xByqeI/AAAAAAAAAe8/scXQH8_UP9Q/s1600-h/PA051410.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Ssnt8xByqeI/AAAAAAAAAe8/scXQH8_UP9Q/s320/PA051410.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389100057334295010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is so uncalled for. As I finally admit to myself that I need to stay put in one place cause I can't handle missing more people at the moment, I find my darling new friends living everywhere in the country instead. I've lost little pieces of my heart in all corners of the world. But as I give it away, as I share it and open up, as I show them and the places my heart I get something very important back. Another piece of the puzzle. But being on the road meant I had nowhere to sit down and try to put all the pieces together, I guess that's why I feel that I need to stay put for a while. To sit still. And yet, I' still travelling. (Even if its not all to far.) And losing little pieces of my heart. Still missing people and gathering new once to the list of "gah, I wish you were here!". But I know that I need to leave again once I've gotten my strength back up. I need to find more pieces, lose more little hearts and fall in love with more of the beautiful places of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsnuK_otG8I/AAAAAAAAAfE/CQIqFcjkr1U/s1600-h/PA051428.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsnuK_otG8I/AAAAAAAAAfE/CQIqFcjkr1U/s320/PA051428.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389100301773773762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stood on the ferry this morning and saw the sunrise over Visby while leaving its harbour. As the sunlight hit the first house I felt an even bigger piece then usual break lose and tumble down over board, splash as it hit the cold water and be united with the love for that island and the special people who live there or just come to stay for a bubble summer happy weekend once in a while. I felt like I was losing a way to big piece for me to handle all at once to you, Mr. B until I realised that I wasn't losing it at all. (Remembering Relationship Anarchy.) I realised I'd gained another very important piece of my puzzle. One I've been looking for for quite a while. (But to make things clear, I was NOT looking for a crush/lover. I was looking for another piece of the puzzle, like I always am.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've written again and again (or at least talked about but wrote real honest in &lt;a href="http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/09/once-again-back-in-real-life.html"&gt;Once Again back in Real Life.&lt;/a&gt;) I finally had he guts to stand up for myself and say no to sexual intercourse, to the actual penetration and to the dick. To be all frank and truthful. But I never realised that that didn't mean that I closed a lot of doors until now. I thought that meant that I wouldn't have sex, wouldn't get pleasure from someone else and wouldn't get all that close. I'd lose one of the important and most intimate things that happens between two people (or can happen). Of course I'd still have sex with girls and all of that but the only problem was that it seamed like I still had crushes on boys. And not the macho manly once but the sweet, often very androgynous and not thinking in a gender norm way. If you could phrase it like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I found the piece that's been missing, the one I never even thought about. While allowing myself to feel and act and remembering to be true to myself I found out that sex didn't need to be all about the penetration, genitals and orgasms. I've never even thought it was possible but it felt like we found something better, something that was even closer, more intimate and loving then the handling of flesh. And I'm not writing this to "out" anyone, I do hope Mr. B doesn't mind and even though I probably would like to just keep it to myself I found out, once again through a previous post comment, that there are others out there who can't handle the "normal" sexual intercourse. So this is to show, mostly to myself, that its very possible to make love, have sex. Or let me rephrase, its very possible to (in the extremely romantic way) "become one", "tap into each others hearts".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was planning on having an awesome weekend with friends and a cute innocent flirt, things didn't turn out as planned. Heck, they never do. Lots of partying but no film in an old church. It was poring down outside and way to cold so they moved it to the local cinema, which wasn't as cool but still very sweet to see a scary movie all seven of us while screaming at the right places and having an educational moment, since we were watching "Peeping Tom" which, I believe, was from the sixties and ground breaking at the time. Lots of more partying, lots of sauna, tea, sweet vegan food, lovin' friends and late nights but then there was that innocent flirt which turned out to be something completely different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Ssnuhc4bXgI/AAAAAAAAAfM/pk8qlonsbaM/s1600-h/PA051544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Ssnuhc4bXgI/AAAAAAAAAfM/pk8qlonsbaM/s320/PA051544.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389100687581470210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Scared while writing, scared while thinking, scared while feeling but its to big to just ignore. I'm falling. Another little piece of my heart is now washed up on the shore of Gotland. And as I saw it fall hitting the waves beneath the ferry I couldn't keep my tears back anymore. Just as its hard when I'm writing this. I could always try to explain it with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Haven't slept or eaten properly for the whole weekend"&lt;/span&gt; and so on but I think its something more. Cause no matter what happens now I found that piece of the big puzzle that is me, so thank you Mr. B and thanks to all the poor souls who had to listen to my endless ramble about my confusing "love life". Its thanks to them that I was strong enough to say no which opened a whole world of doors for me to explore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, talk about honesty?! Well, there you have it. And it might be a bit easier to understand then my drunkin' ass trying to, well I don't know what I was thinking about, blog earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Pictures; Visby while leaving the harbour. Sunrise over Visby. Me on open water.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while listening to way to cute music from my teen days, missing everyone heaps and bloggin' I decide that just for today I'll stay inside my little bubble of happiness and will deal with the real world outside my window tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soundtrack: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8PIGWF-Tj4"&gt;Sigur Rós - Milano&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-3990241870354560958?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/n7dA7KxVejs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/n7dA7KxVejs/little-piecesof-my-heart.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/Ssnt8xByqeI/AAAAAAAAAe8/scXQH8_UP9Q/s72-c/PA051410.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/little-piecesof-my-heart.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-5974920414128035456</guid><pubDate>Sun, 04 Oct 2009 11:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-04T14:05:36.135+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Relationshp Anarchy</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">LOL</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Resa</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>Note to self: Never blog while drinkin'</title><description>Uhm... I'm sorry? Well, I mean. Everything in the last post is true its just that I really shouldn't blog while way to drunk. Really not! But to my defense, the comments on one of my previous posts where I was talking about the confusion about sex/love made me realize that its a good thing to just write, talk and be honest. That someone else out there had the "same" type of problems as I do. So thank you for sharing and caring enought to comment =).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flat (here on Gotland), with 7 lovely people, is coming to life after a hard night of partying. Just as it should be at 2 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So a huge note to myself; Never ever, and I repeat, never (!) blog while drunk!! Not only the fact that I wasn't able to write in complete sentences, or that I was babbling along uhm... getting way to personal (like always??) might not be the ideal thing to wake up to. OOppss... So I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starting of with "Sidewalk - President".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-5974920414128035456?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/7EVDZNF9lCA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/7EVDZNF9lCA/note-to-self-never-blog-while-drinkin.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/note-to-self-never-blog-while-drinkin.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-8896949113098375480</guid><pubDate>Sun, 04 Oct 2009 01:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-05T12:55:43.561+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Relationshp Anarchy</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Resa</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>So what about the next 24 hours?</title><description>Wll, I gotta tell you that I'm so fucking happy. This has been like the first time since forever (?) well at least since my "puppy love" time with Cat almost two years ago. So I fuckin' deserved some good stuff. I've, it you hadn't noticed, got a HUGE crush. Like in the last two posts I've been really confused and really scared. Just like this one. But for the first time since forever its not the usual "I'm having a crush, I really don't wanna' and the other person doesn't like me at all".This time its all just to cute.  Gah, I hope its not just form my side. The person in question is a newbie in terms of Relationship Anarchism but very willing to learn. So yes, I'm falling. So hard. In spite of the subject being a boy, at least to the physical side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what about my problem? Of telling this person whom I'm very attracted to that I'm celibate? Well, we had a "talk" yesterday and had that serious "I kinda like you but..." - talk and he didn't realize that I was a relationship anarchist. It turned out that he'd wanted to be one for several years but never really got into in it. And I, of course, feel fuckin' amazing showing him what it all means. (See under the label of Relationship Anarchism or andie.se to know more about it.) So when we all talked it through, I thought I totally lost him. I thought I was once again having a crush on someone who wasn't in the least bit interested in me. But uhm, that wasn't what happened. I let go, he let go and we agreed  that we were really scared but we so wanted to go on and feel more. And later on today I (sadly) realized that it was way to late to turn back. I'm falling. And id doesn't matter how scared I am or whatever it means to him, I'm falling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is really scary though, not just the fact that I'm falling again but that its a "he". Again. But as I said, the amazing thing happened. I was brave enough to tell (so I gotta give him a name?) Mr. B. (Mr?? Well, its not a macho man in such way but he got the enormous honor of choosing his own, never happened before.) Ah, gah! Yeah, as you read  (probably my future self tomorrow) you'd realise that I'm quite drunk. haha... embarrassing. haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best thing that happened was, besides us giving it a try, that we had sex without our genders. For the first time, and I'm 26, I had sex (or rather made love?? Do I dare to say it?? Ha, I'm to drunk not too and tomorrow its gonna be way to late to change my mind.). I had sex without my physical gender, and gah, I really hope that Mr. B doesn't hate me for outing this on my blog or that I will regret it tomorrow but gah, I'm so having the huge crush. Feeling way to much for my tummy to handle. Ha, I'm in love! There, I said it. Finally. But remember, I wont admit it tomorrow. Or will I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sex without the physical gender, love without the physical gender and relationship anarchism without the heterosexual norm. I'm so fuckin' game!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having the time of my life, probably course I'm so drunk (this is the first time I admitted being drunk while bloggin) and finally being brave enough to feel everything. Write anything and just to feel. Scared, happy, bubble and love. Tihi, love! And this is me talking, the one that is so scared of feeling anything more the friendship. Ha!So even more way to personal stuff on my blog, like I haven't don't that one before. Ha!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So music of the day; Shit, I don't fuckin' know eye. But from he stuff that we've been listening to this night its been "I miss you - Blink 182". Thank you Mr. B for making me belive again. And the most important thing, the friends down here made me belive in love again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of the day might just as well be "More then Words-Extrem" And this time, you'll just have to check out goolge for the links yourself. Love ya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no pic's couse I haven't got them prom my camera yet, but when there's stuff I will post it. Bubble happy love to ya all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-8896949113098375480?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/9O_jk5E7J2s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/9O_jk5E7J2s/so-what-about-next-24-hours.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/so-what-about-next-24-hours.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-4158164736698153134</guid><pubDate>Sat, 03 Oct 2009 01:13:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-03T03:33:41.889+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Resa</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>The first 24 hours of Gotland</title><description>So what happened? Well, the bubbles didn't get smaller, which at first was absolutely amazing. you know the feeling you get when everything is just right, fragile but beautiful. That was last night. But today, well. We txt'd or rather I got a txt saying that it'd been real nice but we probably shouldn't continue. Everything went silent. So it was to good to be true? I knew it! Fuck this shit!! And then, ha then!! you know actual communication creates wonders in all sorts of relationships and everything is (seams, oh please pretty one!) to be good now. Hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flat took a day of from reality and stayed in, hanging out and reading. Until nightfall when we climbed up in a real cool church ruin and lit some candles up there for everyone to see. Just as scary as it was dangerous I suspect but of course lots of fun. A real mission. Gah, I do really love it here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw, still fighting or not talking or I really don't know what's happening to Cat. Really miss him though. Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of the day: Sidewalk - President&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-4158164736698153134?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/gGgE-fbpk5g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/gGgE-fbpk5g/first-24-hours-of-gotland.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/10/first-24-hours-of-gotland.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-7367417454514145999</guid><pubDate>Wed, 30 Sep 2009 10:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-30T14:22:33.993+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Larp</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Lajv</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">New Zealand</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">stockholm</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Resa</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">NZ</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">konst</category><title>Once again back in Real Life</title><description>Went to another larp last weekend, "Våra Drömmars Stad". This time set in "1800-1900" sentry, sorta. Had a good group and stuff but the larp actually sucked. Big time. Got a couple of good scenes but nah, really. I thought I was going to "thriller" type story based larp with sound and video effects. I ended up on a larp with way to expensive clothes (not on me) which made everyone scared of actually moving around in them and it turned out to be some sort of British "Murder theory" but without the murder(?). Finding, receiving and talking to people about the clues you'd gathered. A Game. Uhm, did I mention that I'm actually registered as the worst riddle "sovler" on the continent at this present time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the rest of the life? Well, Autumn is here. And my panic with it. Still kinda silent but coming. Trying to keep my focus, trying to keep busy (which isn't a problem for me as most of you all know) and getting quite creative which is great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still finding the need to stay in Sweden or rather to stay put, sit still and think. I've never known what I want to do but last January I decided I wanted to study art full time and move to New Zealand. Finally I had this great plan but as all planes they never turn out as you thought. I've got no regrets, It was absolutely the best thing I've ever done. And even though school wasn't up to my expectations I had a swell time travelling and getting to know my self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsNBuCRXdiI/AAAAAAAAAec/JixZuAFp-eY/s1600-h/3063_73108698270_619368270_1703696_5051894_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsNBuCRXdiI/AAAAAAAAAec/JixZuAFp-eY/s400/3063_73108698270_619368270_1703696_5051894_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387221838404744738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Recap:&lt;br /&gt;July 2007, I stated studying art in Stockholm&lt;br /&gt;January 2008, I decide to move to New Zealand&lt;br /&gt;July 2008, I move to NZ and begin my new school&lt;br /&gt;October 2008, I realise that I'm not going to come back to school next term.&lt;br /&gt;November 2008, The road is my home&lt;br /&gt;September 2009, Stockholm is my home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture of me on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been on the road more or less for a year. Or more. After realising that art school over there wasn't as good as I hoped I thought that I would find out what I wanted to do with my life by travelling. And I sotra did. I want to do more, see more, be creative, move around, love and work with nature, animals and art. I've got a real addiction to Larp which can't be found (in the way that I like them) in any other place but Sweden. I also found out that I needed to be around my friends. As corny as it sound. Gah, I missed everyone heaps. And I'm not really keen on missing them so soon again. I need to stay put, even though I'm always travelling in my heart and all around Sweden I need to try and find out what I want to do with my life. I know I want to study art - but not at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I've talked about it over and over again, its just that I really don't know. In the same way as I really don't know about this thing called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sex&lt;/span&gt;. I've always loved it, no matter what gender or style but now... No. I know I've always loved to be with girls and "the people who don't define their gender" (in lack for better description). But men? Well, I haven't had a problem before. Or I had with the macho manly men. And its gotten worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment I've gotten over my last big summer crush and in true "isobelll style" gotten right back on the horse and am having all these bubbles for someone else. Of course someone that I hardly know. But now for the scary parts starts, its a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; and he seams to like me back. Fuck!! I'm not good with all of that shit anymore. As I said, we hardly know each other (and OH, I'm as always getting way to personal? Sorry) but we're texting and getting real cute. He doesn't live around here which is great, I can live my life just as always. But then there is the "I'm missing him!" part which sucks. Like I'm always missing people all around the globe. Sigh. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Note to self: By travelling a lot and larping you'll get friends all over, if you find this "missing thing" hard then you might think about stop travelling - Ha, like that's ever going to happen!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So once again I'm confronted with the two things that scare me most of all. Its a guy and he (well, that's what I think at least - gathered from the texting ) sorta likes me back (or is he just atracted (here my bad selfconfidens raises her voice in a foul and bad manner and starts to whisper lots of thing that I wont tell here and will try to inore all togeher)). Which is all nice and good but it means, you guessed it, sex. Cause of the simple fact, it seams like, that we're both adultes. Now don't get me wrong, I'm really attracted to him and wow I'd love to have sex but does the dick really have to be a part of it? (As I complained about all this shit to my brother last night he went and grabbed the sissors, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"This might solve the problem?"&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been my main theme for the last 6 months - no dicks. I've failed over and over again but every time I'm in a quite foul mood for the next coulple of days. So seriously, no dicks. At least until I figure out what's wrong, or if you'd like me to rephrase, what's right. Now comes the issue of telling to him, that I'd love to have a cute flirt (or whatever happens) but no sex which is scary. And for once realising that it wont do with, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I'll make up an excuse at the last moment", "It wont be all that bad will it?", "But I am really attracted?", "I am real horny though, that should mean that I actually do want it?", "oh well, I don't want to disappoint him. Just get it over with."&lt;/span&gt; I know all about the classic saying &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"if he likes me it wont matter"&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I don't need to spread my legs for someone to like me and if its only that then I can just as well do without."&lt;/span&gt; But grr, the bubbles and wanting to be the subject of bubbles in tummy back feelings are still very much all to real. Well, I should just stop thinking, be honest and let the weekend to all the work cause we're all meeting up on Gotland for the "Night of Culture". Yay! A sorta reunion of the summer time medieval week at the flat with sauna, party, friends (some old ones and a lot of newcomes) and the highlight will be seeing a scary movie in one of the old church ruins at night. Freezing Cold!!! And I don't know what I'm more scared about, the movie, the cold or (I do really hope) him - warming me, holding my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubbles. Scared. Confused. Chaos? Well, thats me. Always in some state of chaos but at least I'm smiling this time. (And blushing.) Shit, he might read this. Uhm, no good idea of publishing or just the right thing to do? Uhm, fuck. Well, its to late now? Shit, shit, shit. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Scared way beond the point of ok and all bundled up in a teenie crush.&lt;/span&gt; But maybe I'll just see him and realise that its been all in my head? Bubbles simply cause I "felt like" having bubbles? Hitting the Publish button before I can change my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music:&lt;a href="http://open.spotify.com/track/2mx2uwTyVCJf8VXogcwqdV"&gt; Lamb - Lusty&lt;/a&gt; and&lt;a href="http://open.spotify.com/track/6PZDPg3dZgJkNL6nVMUB4b"&gt; Lykke Li - Little bit&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-7367417454514145999?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/rgHTLCX2iiM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/rgHTLCX2iiM/once-again-back-in-real-life.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SsNBuCRXdiI/AAAAAAAAAec/JixZuAFp-eY/s72-c/3063_73108698270_619368270_1703696_5051894_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/09/once-again-back-in-real-life.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21358881.post-5597190210814591014</guid><pubDate>Tue, 25 Aug 2009 22:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-26T00:46:01.385+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Larp</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Lajv</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">musik</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">music</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">stockholm</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Love</category><title>RL - Real Life</title><description>Ha, but what's real? Not a lot in my life. Not according to real people with real jobs. But what the fuck, I'm back on top of my game. I just got a room! Yay me! Fuck yeah! Got a lot of larps, travelling and projects to keep a close eye on within the near future. Going to Göteborg on Thursday for a sweet reunion with the "White Trash gang" and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got a room, I got a sorta job or I got enough money to pa my bills and eat, I've got heaps to do and my horrible crush is finally letting me go. (I was the one having the crush, hate it when that happens.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the larp "Krigshjärta III" was pretty good in the end anyways, I had some real cool scenes, so called meta scenes, where we go outside the game and freeform what could be thoughts, dreams, memories or anything else that wants to get out. Sweet as. Thanks to Tarick, my family, Lukas and all the rest - you know who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SpRm22yo0TI/AAAAAAAAAeM/wsLu3mbvLNo/s1600-h/P8230356.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 216px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SpRm22yo0TI/AAAAAAAAAeM/wsLu3mbvLNo/s200/P8230356.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374033347966718258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My Family at the larp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and did I mention? I've got a room!!! Haha, nah but seriously. I've been looking for ages and this one I can afford and I move in next week. Mint!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: Michael Jackson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/Isobelll&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21358881-5597190210814591014?l=isobelll.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Isobelll/~4/ZlVccvb3Os4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Isobelll/~3/ZlVccvb3Os4/rl-real-life.html</link><author>isobelll@gmail.com (Elli)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-XrdnzkmwrQ/SpRm22yo0TI/AAAAAAAAAeM/wsLu3mbvLNo/s72-c/P8230356.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://isobelll.blogspot.com/2009/08/rl-real-life.html</feedburner:origLink></item></channel></rss>
