fuckpisfuckingfucklortfucksmutudafmitfuckinghoved

Got a phone call from Thailand a few days ago. Asian issues. Going home. I don't think I'll be back for a while. Need to sort out all kinds of things.

.. Fuck. I just pulled my duvet over my head and inhaled. For a long time. Then I exhaled. I didn't sob, but I guess it was a close call. I guess I just lost the person who made fall 2011 seem okay. I want to call him and tell him to come over and just. Idk, I just want to talk to him to say that I'm sorry. I had so many chances and I missed them all. So I guess it's time to let go. But you know, it's hard letting go when you know you've been so close to something great.

Sigh. Depressing subject. I hate myself right now. Moving on. Back to Thai issues.

There was an election going on, the last time I was in Thailand. We all had to vote for a new village elder in the village. I didn't know who to vote for, because I haven't really been living in the village since I was a kid. I'm only visiting nowadays. 

My grandpa, who is also a village elder, told me to vote for a guy we were related to. That was my duty, because he's family. One day, a young teacher came over to our villa and talked to my aunts. Then he discretely passed a few hundred of baht's over to my aunt Maow. When he left, I asked my aunts if they were going to vote for him. They laughed and said "of course not, Duean (Moon - my Thai nickname). This is just how Thailand is". True story, unfortunately. 

Anyway. I didn't really know who to vote for, so I ended up just writing "fuck" on my voting list. Yes, very childish. But I refuse to be a part of a corrupt system and I didn't feel like voting for the guy I'm related to, so instead I chose to be childish and write fuck. In 3 languages. Thai, English and Danish. 

But I didn't tell my family that I didn't vote for my distant aunts brothers cousins moms uncles something. Why? Because they wouldn't understand. Like, I tried to ask them about his goals and what he stand for, but all I got was a "what are you talking about, Duean? It is our duty to vote for him. He is family". All the time. Fuck. 

Speaking of duty. That's the reason why I'm going back. They (my family) need me to sort things out and whatnot, because my mom is passing more and more of our houses, land and whatnot over to me, so there's a bunch of things I need to work on. But I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do this without ending up doing what I've tried to avoid. Bribing. 

.. Goddammit. I am still thinking about him. Sigh. I need to get out. And I need some coffee. I wish I could talk to someone. Him. But that's a serious no-go.

Sigh. I'm rather pissed off right now. Like, I didn't mind that some douchebag had stolen my old cellphone a few weeks ago. Because then I could finally get an iPhone (didn't want to throw away my Nokia because it worked just fine). But what happens then? Of course I got a text from him. AFTER my cellphone got stolen. FUCKFUCKFUCK FHE0VJDCOK. 

And now it's too late.


Seriously. I bought a fucking unlocked 64GB iPhone for circa 1080 bucks. And it didn't even fucking come with an app against this shit.

Döm hende ikke.

Okay. So I went out and had brunch with some girls. One of them had brought a girl friend along, no big deal. When we were sipping Bloody Mary's, she asked me about how I, a Karen hill tribe/Isaan girl ended up in Denmark.

I told her that my family from my dad's side pretty much all got killed off because of the genocide in Burma, that I didn't really know my biological dad and that my mom met my step dad through a mail order bride service. One year after she married Lars, I ended up in Denmark.

She asked me if my mom was okay. Okay? Are you fucking kidding me? Of course she's okay. God. I'm so tired of stupid Western girls who all assume that mail order brides are submissive victims. Fuck you bitches. Don't you get it? My mom saved our family. We came from nothing and we had less than nothing.

If my mom didn't marry Lars, then my life wouldn't have been this good, materialistic wise. She married a man she didn't know, for her family's sake. For my sake. Why? Because she wanted a good life for us. And since when has fighting for a good life been considering wrong? So please, stop.

Human trafficking is wrong - but this was not human trafficking. My mom didn't get trafficked, she decided to take a huge fucking chance in life and see if she could start up a new and better life in another country. There's a difference. I'm proud of my mom when it comes to that. I'm not sure if I would be able to do the same thing as she did. You know, traveling to a country 8000 km away, where I didn't know anyone, couldn't speak the language etc. - to marry a man I didn't know, for my family's sake.

Hmm. Anyway. Love. Why do so many people take love for granted? I mean, marrying out of love is a relatively new thing. It's a privilege. And people don't seem to get that. Be grateful, bitches.

Ok. Moving on. I feel dirty. In the non sexy way. I don't really know what else to say. It's just.. My entire body is itching. I've already showered 5 times today, but I can't get rid of this feeling of being filthy. I wish I could peel off my skin, layer by layer.

I'm not dead, but it doesn't feel like I'm alive either. I'm just here. Stuck in a place where I don't really belong. I wish I could talk to someone, but meh. The last time I tried to tell my grandparents it didn't really feel alright inside of me, they took me to the village temple, where a nurse and a monk were waiting. They told me I had malevolent spirits inside of me. So they gave me anti depressants and the monk started chanting. They kept making me drink water the monk had blessed, in order to purify me or something like that. They said it was for the greater good, when I started crying and asked them to stop. 

It didn't really help. Tried committing suicide a few months later. Being 12 was fun. Since then I've had a hard time opening up. No chanting or forcing water down my throat, please.

It's hard to believe that I once used to be happy all the time. Or perhaps I've never been happy, maybe it's just something I try to convince myself of, in order to make all this look less miserable. I can't really remember the last time I was truly happy. I can't really take it anymore. I'm so tired all the time. 

I'm hungry. But I don't want to be hungry. And I think I gave up on myself a long time ago. Sometimes I wonder how a person would react, if he/she ask me how I'm doing and I actually tell the truth, instead of saying "I'm fine, you?". But no one really expect you to say "fuck no, I'm not okay. Fuck you all" when they ask how you're doing etc.

Anyway, I'm starving. Haven't really been eating for two days now. Hopefully there's a few apples downstairs.

blæste tanker.

So. I used to date this guy once. Things didn't work out and I broke up. His reaction? He punched me repeatedly in the face. I didn't say anything, I just took my cameras and left his flat. I didn't bother wiping the blood off my face, I didn't bother feeling sad or angry either, I just wanted to go home. 

Even though it was crowded as fuck in the train, no one sat next to me. Like, people came over, stared at my face, then they decided they would rather stand up. I suppose I didn't care. I just clutched my cameras close to me. 

I didn't react back then, and I haven't really reacted until now. I'm not angry, mad or anything, just.. Disappointed. Over myself. I didn't care enough about myself to even react. I just stood there, while he punched me. I didn't even cry or say anything, I just stood there, staring at him. Oh well, slow Asian is slow. I need to do something about my reaction mechanism. 

Meh. I am tired and hungover. And now it's time to go out again. I am hungry, but I don't feel like eating. Like, I had a steak yesterday. I've only had coffee for the last two days and suddenly I just got hungry. Really fucking hungry. So I cooked a steak and ate it while I sat on the floor, listening to Slayer. Pearl was there too. She sat on a chair, talking with her mom on the phone while looking at me eating the steak. All I heard was "wuh wuh.. Aphinya-ah. No ma', not today.. Wuh wuh". Huh. Shanghai-English.

Then Pearl and I went out to grab a few drinks. A guy at the bar made the "come here" nod to me and blinked, multiple times. I asked him if he wanted to fuck me or what. Awkward silence. The guy looked down. Pathetic. Pearl laughed, and then I laughed. I suppose it was all somehow rather absurd.

I've reached the point where I don't care about anything at all anymore, I just want to fuck things up, you know? I mean, to see if I can still feel something real, something else than just disappointment. 

Yesterday, an elderly woman approached me on the street. She was from some church. She said I looked rather sad, and asked if I needed to talk to someone. I gave her my "thanks, but no thank you" smile and turned around - but then I noticed she had coffee. I fucking love coffee. So I stayed for a minute or two. She talked about Jesus. I said I had licked a girls pussy earlier. I don't know why I said it, I mean, it's not like it was any of her business. But I suppose I just wanted to shock her. The coffee was good though. Amen. 

Oh, I'm so tired right now. Cocktails at Jonathan's place. But I don't feel like going, I just want to stay inside, lie on my bed and listen to music.

Anyway. I saw Michael not so long time ago, when I went out to get coffee. I wanted to say hi. But I guess that would have been rather meaningless, so I walked away. 

I miss my family. It's hard, being thousands and thousands miles away from them. I wish I could hug my grandparents and tell them how much I miss them. Thailand, I miss you. 

Tankespind

Plenty of people ask me if anything is wrong, but I find that none of them really want to know.

So I smile and pretend that it's all okay. I suppose I am down with the game. I am good at pretending. Anyway, it feels like I've been lobotomized. I stare at things and people for minutes and minutes, but I don't know what to say. I don't even know what I am thinking about right now. And I guess I don't really care in the end. I stopped caring a long time ago, but I've been so desperate to feel alive, that I convinced myself that I actually did care.

Anyway. I forgot my bag on the train last week. Got it back. Then tonight someone stole my purse, Polaroid camera, ID, diary and tons of polaroid photos of pussies (compared vags with a caucasian girl friend), nosebleed, bruises, rotten stuff, animal bones, drunken moments and whatnot. Fuck.

Moving on. Kae and I made a rather stupid bet. Like, we'll try to see who of us can eat next to nothing for two weeks, starting tomorrow. Why and how did I become so stupid.