Sylvilel

©️Sylvilel Fuck. This trudge again. Allright: So clearly, I am not doing as fine I wish. Right now, I'm not sleeping, because I'm brooding over people in my life, and my life. I'm brooding over the fact that my roomate is very non-talkative, and I don't know how to deal with that, because I have never once in my life not been around people who didn't  share thoughts and opinions in some form or other. Now this  might be because I have always been easily impressionable, and prone to letting others take the lead. That's fine. But I'm not anymore. I'm brooding over how annoyed I sometimes get at people who always  share their thoughts and opinions in some form or other, and how that is completely unfair, when I  am the one who usually encourages them to. I'm brooding over how people are constantly annoyed or mad or hurt by my direct way of talking, and how that often makes me the big bad wolf. I'm brooding over the fact that

I - I don't know. I have things to say, but I don't know how to say them. My tongue lies dead in my mouth and my thoughts are all knotted up in each other. If I pull on a thread from the wrong end, it will all unravel. I thought I was getting depressed again, a little while back. But it's not that. All in all, I'm in a good place. But I'm tired. And I'm lonely. I have a lot of big thoughts on my mind that I need to air out, but no one to really listen to them. As of right now, I am a little lost, and I have nowhere to turn. As always, it's best to stay put until any possibilites present themselves. I know change will come eventually. It's the wait  I can't handle. There are so many things I want to be doing. So many skills I want to start developing. I'm ready to set a new course in life, but like I said, I have no fucking clue where to beign. And I've wasted so much time already; I want to start something that feels right  from the s

Currently reading:   Like, like, like. I've read - 76 pages, and I love it. The story has barely begun to unravel, an already I feel a little anxious of learning Eleanor's story. Awkward, funny, and mildly nerve-wrecking, I'd say. Recently finished reading:  After a lot of intial ranting (I had a bad time with the first 200 pages...) , I'm glad to say that this book finally managed to capture me. If it hadn't been for the fact that at least ten of my favorite writers have praised this book to the skies, I wouldn't have stuck  with it for so long. I miss a clearer setting in the intro, something to really connect the reader to the MCs. It took more than half the book before I actually began to care  about all the pain the characters are subjected to. After that , though, it gets pretty good, so if you aren't a picky old cynic like me, you'll probably enjoy it from the start. Currently l

©️Sylvilel 11. mai 2011 (Original tekst) Jeg merket de nakne anklene mine mot innsida av skoene mens jeg gikk. Jeg var utenfor verden, og hadde verden inni meg. Jeg kjente en makt jeg ikke hadde kjent på lenge, om jeg noensinne hadde det. Til og med stemmen min da jeg snakka til meg sjøl ( "Jeg må bare skrive ned noe før jeg glemmer det" ) hadde en myk, behagelig klang, full av roen som plutselig falt over meg. Jeg satte meg ned på ei bildekkhuske, løfta de Converse-kledde beina mine opp fra sandgropa, og kom til å tenke på ting. Lufta like før et regnvær er underlig paradoksal. På samme tid er den både klam og varm, med et isnende drag i seg. Tilstanden begynner å gå over. Jeg belsutter at det kan være lurt å legge skrivesakene fra seg. Men hva skal jeg gjøre da? tenker jeg. Vipps så er jeg tilbake igjen. En døsig, trøtt svimmelhet nesten, full av sjelero, og fri for stress. Verden er så nær nå, her i parken, og likevel så langt unna. Jeg