Instead of talking about my chipped nailpolish...

Obviously, we're all worried about the people we know in Japan. I'm lucky to know that none of my dearest friends are harmed in any way.

I logged on and saw that the wonderful JE fans of the world have collected info on as many members as they can find.
This following image is from news_jpop at livejournal.


I thought this was really sweet. Of course, I'm not surprised to see such dedication. JE fans have always been dedicated to their fandom. But somehow this constant action to make sure everyone's ok really got to me.


To all the people that donated to the red cross, you guys are my personal heroes. (Dear brother, you are awesome)


If you want to donate, you can do so --->here<---,

or if you're swedish, --->here<---


That is all.

"Stop complaining, stop complaining" - mrs. English Teacher

Aaaaaaand the water is gone again.

I can't believe how long it's been since I could go downstairs and have a nice glass of water without having to think about bacteria, high levels of cloride... or whether or not water will actually come out of the tap!

I've been in a bad mood for three days.
Please let me get out of this house. I can't breathe.

Funerals, relatives, questions; "What are you up to now a days?", torture, claustrophobia.... and now drought.





I need a vacation.


In memory of our grandfather.

So the day in which the grandfather dies has arrived. And it's a peculiar day. A sad day. Because, of course, grandad wasn't just a grandad, he was also a father.

I don't usuall cry over things like this. But I do cry when people call and ask: "how's mom?"
Because the question implies that she's not doing good. And surely, she's not. A fact which breaks my heart.

He spent his last years in bed, unable to communicate properly; alone and scared. When he died he was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by nothing and no one.

A lot of people die that way.
Alone.. in the middle of the night.

I don't know how or when I'll die, but I hope that before it happens, I'll have met enough people and made enough memories to entertain myself during those last few minutes.

I never knew what that old man was thinking, since he couldn't talk to anyone about it, and most of the time he was drugged up with antidepressants and a gazillion other pills, supposedly to make him feel more "comfortable". But I truly hope he wasn't afraid. I hope he was dreaming.

I guess the proper thing to say is: Rest in Peace.
But I know you are.

RSS 2.0