O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife

My cancer.

I wake up in the middle of the night.
Panicing over something.
Hands and feet cold like ice.
Heart pounding.

In the mirror I see a terrible looking person.
This gloomy, pail, skinny girl, dark under the eyes, thin hair, big dead eyes.
She scares the shit out of me.
I blink my eyes, and after a while I can see myself again.

My old self.
Chubby cheeks, doublechin, little pig eyes.

I've been fasting forever now.
Does not seem to help.
I still feel....greasy.
Fat.
I'm still dirty.
And I don't feel any better.
At all.

Fucking hell.
I belive the cancer is back.

Babies

Do you want children?
I don't.
Or.
I don't. And I can't.
No worries really, I would'nt want to make another person like me anyway.
So.
Yeah.

Halloween and A Junction Party

I was almost hit by a car today.
Damn thing wouldn't have happened if I didn't have to walk everywhere.
I really need to get a ride.
This is getting redicilous.
The walking.


Soon is Halloween, and it's crazy here.
But more important, it's some kind of street festival coming up.
Flora's been talking about it like it's the party of the year but I'm not that sure.
However there's buzz even among the uber-chick indie bitches drinking my coffee at Floras.
So I guess it's gonna be nice concerts, at least.
See u there?

Dark sides of Facebook

----- Our chat on Wed, 10/28/09 12:11 AM -----

ramzi (11:59 PM): wat sour naim

Signe (11:59 PM): Who are you?

ramzi (11:59 PM): fain

Signe (12:00 AM): what do you want?

ramzi (12:00 AM): ay louve you

Signe (12:01 AM): That is very weird.

ramzi (12:02 AM): juste we can talk more

ramzi (12:02 AM): i think that y really like me

ramzi (12:02 AM): when y haven't problem

Signe (12:02 AM): And why is that?

Signe (12:02 AM): Problem?

Signe (12:04 AM): You are adding random people on yahoo mail and tell them that you love them.

Signe (12:04 AM): Why do you do that?

Signe (12:04 AM): Don't you have real people in france?

ramzi (12:05 AM): y think that i like go to frensh or i say this words to the all world in the tchat ? y are so incorrect i tel u something

ramzi (12:06 AM): about your talking $

Signe (12:06 AM): Why do you say it to me then?

ramzi (12:06 AM): i'm not a joking person

ramzi (12:07 AM): i'm so serieus

Signe (12:07 AM): That's great

ramzi (12:08 AM): so i tell y that y u like me

Signe (12:08 AM): But I have never met you. Ever.

Signe (12:09 AM): How did you find me?

ramzi (12:09 AM): i find y sooooo great

ramzi (12:10 AM): and y can't ask me why

Signe (12:10 AM): My question is, where did you find my email?

ramzi (12:11 AM): in facebook

Signe (12:11 AM): I see

Signe (12:18 AM): Well then, I hope you have a nice life.

ramzi (12:19 AM): yes i'm a rich

ramzi (12:19 AM): i work in the petrol

Signe (12:20 AM): In the petrol? Hope your not a smoker then.

ramzi (12:21 AM): loool

ramzi (12:22 AM): no i'm a smoker

ramzi (12:22 AM):

ramzi (12:22 AM): but i don't smoke when i work

ramzi (12:22 AM): i smoke when i talk with y

ramzi (12:22 AM): sweety

Signe (12:23 AM): I'm really not that sweet.

ramzi (12:23 AM): yes sweety

ramzi (12:23 AM): how old are y

Signe (12:24 AM): 19, I'm guessing you are older, and a man, and single. And that English is not your first language.

Signe (12:29 AM): Well, great chatting with you Ramzi. Good luck to you. Vi ses i Valhall.

Slinky

Everybody loves a Slinky
You got to have a Slinky
Slinky Slinky
Go Slinky go!

making people angry part 3

I guess I really was sick back then.
That I punished myself for not being my best, for not being loved or even liked by anyone else but mum and maby my math teacher.

I was so afraid.
I was afraid of my mother dying.
War.
Pedofiles.
Spiders.
Cancer.
Birds.
Rain.
Bridges.
Flyes.
Rapists and murderers.

I kept them all away by having alot of rules.
What to eat and not eat.
What do say.
How to act.
How to cut and to bleed.

Now, I'm not sick.
I don't cut myself anymore. (the scars are so unattractive.)
More important:
I'm not afraid.

making people angry part 2

One pathetic time in my life I used to cut myself.
Not deep.
I never wanted to die.
Just shallow, thin lines so I could watch the blood run down my arms, like it was searching for something.
Like I was searching for something.

(I didn't eat and cut myself with razorblades, wonder why I had such a hard time making friends.)

I never got why some people would'nt let me do what I wanted with my own body though.
It was mine.
It was me who I did it to.
Why were they so involved?

Mom was by my side the whole time.
She washed my cuts clean and bought me lemons.
For several weeks lemons were the only thing I ate.
They made my stomache hurt like hell but I told myself that that was good.
That it was the vitamins taking care of my body, killing all the bad stuff I had in me.

Mom never said a hard word to me.
She never judged me or told me that I was stupid making my arms look like a wall in a cell in a old prison movie.
She never forced me to eat.
She never asked me why I just could'nt.

Making people angry

When I was three years old I got very sick.
Mum told me that I sat under the table when she was making dinner and suddenly just fainted.
She rushed to the hospital and after some tests the doctor told her that I had meningitis.
I have a few memories of this, but strangely they are all good ones.
I remember how cool it felt to have a IV-needle in my hand.
The red balloons mum bought me, the colorful playroom with all the fun toys and the kind doctors.

Mum says I almost died and that she was terrified.

10 years later I was at the hospital again.
This time because they tought I had anorexia.
Maby I did.
I still don't know.



I loved hospitals.
The kind doctors with their worried eyes and the smell of clean people.
I loved the attention, that they cared for me.
That I made them so angry.

About murder

I'm trying very hard to be a good person.
To love.
To care.

It's tough.
I think there is something wrong with me because as I told you before, I can't forgive.

I daydream about violently murder my former classmates.
About biting their ears off, about stabbing them in their eyes.

Good persons don't do that.
Loving people bake cakes.
They have boyfriends.
They sew curtains.

I guess I'm not a loving person.
But trust me. I do try.

Fuck California

Met up with Kim yesterday.
She's a regular at Floras coffeeshop, kind of easy to spot her among the hordes of hipsters and indiekids.
Had a great time.
She picked me up with her car in the early noon and we went to the beach, talked and watched people.
I had no idea the highways could be as beautiful as in California.
So sweet, she made some vegan food but I still have to fast. Maybe she understands. I wasn't sure what she wanted. Always in control of myself; never in control of the world.

Kim, if you read this?
I think I found the song they played on the radio. We listened to it on the way home in the car.
Kind of fitting, since we had been talking about our future.
It's mostly looking like hammered shit.

Give me a lake that I can dive into
Bury my head in the shit at the bottom
Fuck today
Fuck San Francisco
Fuck California
I realize I never gave you a chance
I realize I never gave you romance
At the top of the hill
At the top of the hill
Leave me to stream in the current or breeze

Give me a lake that I can dive into
Bury my head in the shit at the bottom
Fuck today
Fuck Oakland
Fuck California
At the top of the hill
At the top of the hill
Leave me to stream in the current or breeze
Leave me to stream in the current or breeze
Leave me to stream in the current or breeze

Wild Light - California on my mind.

Dreaming eyes wide shut

Whilst keeping hold of myself,
I am still stuck in the divorce with myself.

Am I to become another one?
Will I be myself, but anew?
Do I have the means.
Am I mean enough?
Cold enough.

I feel left out of myself.
Perhaps that is also what I left with my mother when I bought the one-way ticket to U.S. of Anything is possible.

mum, always mum.

Hey mum.
I like it here.
It's very sunny and the people are more open here then back "home".
Kind of.

I made some friends, I've linked most of them here if you want to check them out, but also my boss Flora and the regulars at the café.
They are a bunch of crazys and their lifes are very different from mine but I do like them.

One thing that bugs me is that people think I'm sick again.
You loose a few pounds and suddenly your a anorexic.
Fuck.
It's like a curse.
I will never understand why it's so irritating for people that I don't eat much.
I mean, it's good for the environment, it's cheap, and it makes me look better.
Also I don't get my period, so I never need to buy tampons and I won't get pregnant (not that I would either way but you know..)

God, I'm not even that skinny.

Would be great if you came here to visit me soon.
I really miss you and you would like it here.
To be honest, sometimes it feels like I can't do this without you.

Love
/Signe

Okej.



It's not always good.



Sometimes the spiders



crawls inside my head

Would be my sweetest day

Hey dad.
I really miss you.
Mum says I look like you.
That our eyes gets the same color of black when we get angry.
I don't know what that means.

Hey dad.
Why did you die?
The guys in school said you left because I was so ugly and that you did not want me.
Was that really the reason?
Did you fled from me?



Dad.
Why didn't you haunt my classmates like the ghost in The Grudge?
I used to daydream about you riding in on a white horse, headless of course, slashing them into blood porridge with an ax.
Still do.

Demand and conquer

Control. I am.
In control.
I demand, and conquer, step by step.

However, and I will only explain this once,
I like being in control.
It's a chosen path.
Beaten down by will.
My will.

If you are surfing this big wave of life... you can't stop the motion forward.
But you can control the board. And choose where on the wave you want to ride.
So it has to be a motion in harmony, like yin and yang.
If you loose control, life will drown you.
If you keep too tight control, you won't have energy enough to reach the top.
So, it's all about flow control. Body and mind in a steady flow.
And maintaining it by taking precious care of the body, and mind.

Therefore: continuing the fast whilst keeping Flora unknowing and doing some extra yoga.

My face

Untill my face is everywhere, I don't want you to see it.
Is that ok?

Teatime

I just came back from a short walk and some tea-shopping.
Finding good tea isn't easy, althou moving to LA certainly has made things easier.
So many asians around here it's crazy, but it's easy to get hold of some real nice teas.
Anyways, today I didn't have the time to plunge into the asian hoods, instead I took a small walk to the reservoir, Ivanhoe... hahha... and strolled the Silver Lake Blvd down to where it crosses the Strip.
About halfways is the Lamill Coffee. Just heard about it, but today I walked past it I just had to go in and check it out. Almost fell in love with this beautiful brewer.

Feeling kind of high, starting the fast over again.

And confident.

Yes.

The virgin

As you see, my flower is intact, so how could I not be a virgin?

Do I have something in my face?

Is this better?
Would you love me if I looked like this?
Would you pay me more?
Would you listen to me?
Would I be your man?
The man?
Hey man!

Sponsor me?

Wish list.
Lipo done by Dr. David Amron.
Boobs done by Dr. Robert Rey.

Found the places, now I just need the money.
As you see, I really can't look like this much longer.

Only this

Stephen Gately, rest in peace.


I don't know, but it's always sad when people die that young.
Right?





Right?

Eating crap cake.

Yes. Well.
Fast is off I guess.
My boss Flora made me eat some cake today.
She made it especially for me so I could'nt say no.
Or, of course I could. But I did'nt want to break the poor womans heart.
So, I had a small, small piece of cake.
Feel kind of ill now.
And bad.
Now I have to start all over again with the fast.
Crap.
Cake.
Crapcake.



















Next time I will not tell her about it.
Maby she get's off my back.

winning prizes

Today I feel like doing something stupid.
Like getting huge peace mark tattoos all over my legs or something.
Maby then I will win the nobel peace prize.
Obviously you don't need to to much to get it.

Happy times.

On my tenth birthday I got a kitten ("Myran") from my mum.
For a long time I did not know what to do with the little thing.
She was so small and soft and...I don't know...cute.
In many ways, she was a ridiculous animal.
Sad excuse for a cat.

Afraid of everything, needy, clumsy and lazy.
I remembered reading a book about a kitten being put in a bag and then trown into the river.
Sad story for everybody involved.
I thought about that for a while.
But it was to far to the river. Mum would'nt let me go there on my own.
Maby I could just strangle the little kitten?
I've heard about small babyes dying in their sleep, this "infant death" thing.
Maby that applies to kittens aswell?
Hm. No.

I decided to give the pathetic animal a chance, and after a few weeks I really started to love the fucking thing.
Myran and I became really good friends, and I regretted wanting to murder her before.
She slept in my bed every night, warmed my feet when I was cold.

The day before my thirteenth birthday Myran was run over by a car.
The car did'nt stop and Myran did't die. At once.
Half her body (the end part) was kind of...flat and soft (In a bad way), and she screamed like an old lady with a troat issue.
Mum had to ask out neighbor to take her to the back of our house and shoot her.

Happy birthday to me.

Reply to Kim

Dear, sweet Kim.
For the love of God.
It's not about loosing weight.
You know that.
It's about getting clean, pure.
About control.
About health.

It's my seventh day now and I feel great!
High on life!

I -really- do prefer my lifestyle.
The inandoutdrugsandalcoholeverynight can't be good for any of you.
No names mentioned.














I'm not judging. Just saying.
You know I love u all.

About forgiving

I have a problem with forgiveness.
I can't forgive my classmates for making my life hell for nine years.
My teachers for letting them.
My cat "Myran" for being run over by a car.
My dad for dying before I was born.
Woody Allen for fucking (and marrying) his adoptive child.
My ex boyfriend for making my first kiss horrid.
Mona Sahlin for buying "Toblerone" for the states money.
R Kelly for pissing on 14 year olds.
My mothers best friend for killing herself.
And myself for not being able to forgive.

Early bird gets nothing but yoga

Arrrgh... I'm awake. Already.
It's just not right to be up at this time of the day.
If it isn't for something important, of course then I'd had to stay awake all life thru.
Because life is important.

Anyways. The fast is going on, I heard some people start getting nauseaus from feeling the scent of green tea after a fast but I just keep liking it better.
It's such a relief for body and mind, this tea.
I get so tired from fasting, my body won't agree with my demands of it.
Poor Flora keeps telling me I need to eat more, discreetly but strategically placing her lovely efforts from her kitchen in the small fridge in the café backroom.
I find it somewhat hilarious that she's trying to hide animal stuff inside what appears to be vegetarian food - "It's for your own good!". Sweet old lady.
Now it's time for the first hour of yoga.
One hour in the morning to get the day started, half an hour in the evening to lay me down softly.

About being a whore.

I've been thinking about this thing with whores.
The definition of a prostitute is a person who sells sex, or sells her body.
Kind of.

I don't really get it.
People who have jobs all sells their bodys, right?
Maby not for sex.
But still.

I serve coffee for money, does that make my sweet boss 61 year old Flora a pimp?
Would of course be cool in a way..but...er..yes. No.

I think that there's alot of people out there who are having bad sex and sex that they don't want to have. For free. Does that make them bigger whores? Or no whores at all?

And the main question, why was I a whore because I did'nt want to have sex with the guys in my class?

It's a confusing world.

Payback and bitchslaps

I should be sleeping by now but can't, and this nuisance to my health brings me to believe somethings is wrong.
Which of course makes me more upset while discontinuing any and all tries to sleep.
But less trying and more doing, you might argue.

Anyways, I could as well write off some thoughts of that bitch on my audition last week.
I was given a few lines and a simple instruction.
When I entered the room it was this jury - four men and two women behind a table.
I did my thing with the lines and the grandmother out on the righ wing side just said: Thank you for your participation, we'll call you in a couple of days.
No feedback, no information, no nothing.
I wanted to give her the evil eye and a "you talkin' to me, be-yatch!?" but I can't let those things happen.
Any audition, any chance might be my step into fame and success and I won't even trip on the bodies I will step over in order to get what I want.

So. No beyatch-yelling. But anyway. On this blog, bitch won't hear me screaming. BITCH!

About rape

Yes. Hello.
My name is Signe and I'm 19 years old.
I don't eat or drink anything that comes from animals.
I speak bad english.
Sometimes I run really fast.
I like lemons.
And I've never been raped.















I'm quite sure about the rape part.
And it really does'nt make any sense.
Because I have alot of rape victim tendencys.
I have a problem with being touched.
With sex.
With trusting people.
With my own body.

I've tried desperatly searching my mind for suppressed abuse memorys but so far, I found nothing. Well, besides from the mucus kiss that is.

Mucus kiss.
Very silly.

puking water

Day four.
I feel nauseous and I can't sleep.
But that's normal, and I guess it's just all toxic waste leaving my body.
It's all good though. All good.

First kiss.

I kissed my first boy when I was 13.

A little late, yes, but I just did'nt have the time until then.

I was very much in love with him.

He listened to sad music, sat on the roof of his house and wrote poems about war.

One time he broke a mirror with purpose.

His dad was very upset but he just told him it was art.

He had a cold when we kissed.

Maby that was the main reason why I really did'nt like it?
The kiss was very gentle, but weird and slimy.
I guess you have alot of mucus in your mouth when your sick.

Anyway.
I thought: Is this it? Is this what everybody talks about? Uuuueeek!
I never wanted to do it again.
I just wanted to hold his hand, talk to him on the phone, and write him letters to him even if he sat just next to me.
He wanted to kiss me, and I told him no.
Obviously there was something wrong with me, so he had to break up.
A shame really, but he wrote a beautiful poem about it.
And we were close friends long after that.

second day

The first three days are the hardest they say.

Today I'm free from work and I think I'm going to go for a long, looong walk.

Clear my head and think about my future plans.