Is a dream a lie if it won't come true, or is it something worse?

Back in the real world for a breather and some email-checking. My mum and I have had the island all to ourselves in the past couple of days, well Tjockis was there too, but no males, so it was quite relaxing, although I got a bit restless and I couldn't concentrate on much, and to top it all my foot is killing me for no legitimate reason what so ever. But I will not bore you with my hypochondriac nonsense--I have figured out the story of my novel, which is about time seeing as I finished the first draft of it about five years ago, but it keeps changing and I think now it's done (I just have to type it up) and now title even makes sense for the first time! Isn't it wicked how that works, it's like my old Creative Writing teacher once said, "The poetry always knows better than the Poet..." and I know the fact that I'm willing to admit I don't know absolutely everything, in itself, might come as a bit of a shock to most people bothering with this blog, but there you have it--I'm feeling a bit stronger, or should I say, I'm back to square one, and hopefully it'll keep getting better from here... time will tell, dear friends.

I actually ventures out into the "real" world the other day and night, and went out out for the first time since I moved back to Sweden, was social to the t and had a jolly enough time drinking a couple of wines at Tess's place, we even brought out a board game and I teamed up with Jenz who knows the boring categories so we obviously won, and then my darling friend Fredde got a bit too obnoxious and drunk and Tess got a bit fed up and there was a mutual agreement to end the game. After that I tagged along to the pub. We only lost three people on the way. It was kareoke night. Fun. I didn't go up and sing, much to the pleasure of most, but Fredde and the special guest appearance Mattias Frunck did, together, it was magical. I danced a bit, entered into a discussion on S&M and smoked too many cigarettes. Then I spent the night at Fredde's couch and didn't talk him out of calling in sick the next morning, so I was even a bad influence. See, I can play the game from time to time...

I can't wait for school to start. I miss having kindred spirits around me. Despite the drama, I wither away when I'm alone with my madness, I need someone to share it with. If that makes any sense. You know, I feel like an alien most of the time. What gives people the right? I mustn't think dark thoughts though, cause then there's a snowball-effect of despair and before I know it I stop believing in world peace and good and the possibility of change. I have to believe in those things. I think everyone does. Or you become depressed and irrational and rotten inside. I don't want to be rotten. I want to change things. I want to believe, to quote Fox Mulder.

And I want to see my loves, more than anything else, just for a moment, a minute, coffee and gossip and just anything to recharge my batteries!

Patience... Patience... Breathe in, breathe out.

I just finished watching a documentary on Marlon Brando. I really want to see that weird French movie he did, Last tango in Paris. And I want A streetcar named desire on DVD, for some reason. That title reminds me of Death by Chcocolate. I wonder how Hedy is... I never said Good Bye to her.