Sandman and Preacher

It's on the shelf, right in front of me. And I am trying not to pick it up. Sandman, volume 1. I bought it last week, even though I know I read it before and got scared. I quit reading it after the first four volumes since I didn't like the way it was drawn but also since I read it during bedtime. Not such a smart idea.

And now it is calling out to me. "Come and get me. Read me. Enjoy me!" (Of course I am not hearing voices for real, then I would be in a psych unit.) But I think that would really be a bad idea.

I refused to buy Preacher at the same time. Good idea. It is drawn in a technique I like more but the stoy is even with less hope than Sandman... if possible...

So, tonight is about getting to bed and sleeping before going to church tomorrow. First time in a month. First time when I need to answer questions. And I will not know the answers to the questions at all. But I will try. All this is about trying to give up self control, pride and everything else that I feel are important right now. Honestly though, if you have nothing left but pride - it is hard to give it up and at the same time feel like you are worth it.

Again, I am looking into the abyss and as Nietsche said "when looking into the abyss, the abyss looks into you"... wanna come and play?

I might just wait and see what comes along...

Neil Gaiman and love

It opens your chest

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable.
It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.

You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...

You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore.

Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ’maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart.

It hurts.
Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind.
It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain.
I hate love. "
/Neil Gaiman

second trial

It is funny that the second trail, or maybe it should be called "the redoing" or "confirmation" of my experiment seems to be not too good. This together with the feelings inside make me a fragile person at the moment. Well, I do have some friends here to keep me from thinking too much about anything since we are doing things every day and every evening. Yesterday was a the first day for only pizza and a movie back home. I almost fell asleep watching "Lucky # Slewin". A decent movie, with a different story. Although I kept thinking about The usual suspects. And of course, Josh Hartnett's eyes.

So, being somewhat frail I can always go back to a behaviour I had when I was 14.. .dreaming about the future when I would meet all these good looking movie stars... Now I know I will never meet them and almost 100% sure of that I don't really want to dream about the future at all. Everything I have dreamt of so far has just gone wrong, almost everything anyway. Or maybe I should be truthfully. Everything I have dreamt of that I wanted for me> i.e. phd, post doc abroad has been, if not accomplished yet but I have the opportunity. The things that has gone quite the opposite would be wedding and love life. Yes, that being things you need to be two... I might have to face the music. I am not meant to have someone that loves me and be happy about it. It's just me and the question now becomes, will I be a halfdecent scientist with no family or friends or should I do sometyhing completely different with my life now? Maybe I should just go back home and try and find a real job - something 9-5 with not too much brainactivity and then look for an apartment where I can live the rest of my life in.

On the other hand I don't see myself living that kind of life. Maybe I can become the "auntie" of all my friends children... the strange lady who writes bad novellas and talks to herself in the small apartment with only dead plants in it? (I didn't mention that I really don't have a green finger in my entire body. I love Succiilentus since they survive when I forget to give them water every week.)

Ah well... I know where I am heading now and it is not the best solution. I should just go home and prepare for the happy sighseeing for today. Next week I am alone for real. Then I can work all day and all night so I don't need to think. Wonderful.

welcome to the next day of you new life. Thanks, feeling so much better now.