Yodelmeister

Holla at my fellow Asian in the alps! This is so amazingly wrong on so many levels! I love it.

...

Hahahahaha. Apparently someone searched for "Aphinya sucks and fucks" according to Blogspot. I'm sorry to disappoint you (whoever you are), but I don't really have a sextape out on the interwebz. But I do have plenty of weird/lame/wtf stories out there a la daydreaming about japanese spider crabs instead of doing homework and reading about orangutans locked up in brothels etc.

Ahem. Anyway. So. I'm leaving for Berlin in two days and then Switzerland afterwards. But guess what. Turns out that a guy I know is going to Switzerland as well. To the same village. Gimmelwald. There's only one "road" in the village and ca. 200 people living there, so it's going to be painfully hard not to run into him.

Anyway. I didn't know until for a second ago. A friend linked me a cool Lauterbrunnen valley base jumping video after I told him where I was going to end up in Switzerland. When I asked how he came across the video, he said that a friend of his who's going base jumping in Lauterbrunnen showed it to him. Turns out I know his friend a little too well. D:

Hm. He's going to base jump Lauterbrunnen Valley and the Eiger - I'm only going to do Via Ferrata, which is like mountain climbing/hiking for morons.  But! The view! Oh man, I am going to take SO many photos.

Via ferrata photo - thanks Google. 

Asian escapades + money + altmuligtblandet

So. I got home around 3am. I was bored, couldn't sleep and apparently Solada and a few of the other Thai girls couldn't sleep either. So we started drinking. It ended up being a bit brutal. We kept jumping up and down on Soladas bed while singing karaoke. Man, it was awful. 5 drunk Thai girls jumping on a bed and singing awful songs.

Solada accidentally kneed me right in the babymaker when I tried to grap the microphone from her. She apologized, and I teared up. And no, I'm not a crybaby, BUT BEING KNEED RIGHT IN THE UTERUS WAS NOT FUN AT ALL. I think a part of me died a little.

Whatever. It was awfully fun. Anyway. Guys. I met Magne the other day. I hid behind a bench and pretended to tie my shoestrings. But he spotted me. When he came over and asked why I was crouching down behind a bench, I laughed it off and said something like "ahahha.. ahaha.. ahaha.. I was tying my shoestrings, silly!!" - his reply? "you're not wearing shoes with strings." fuck. I suck. Why didn't I just say something like "dude, can't talk. about to piss my pants" or something like that? Or even better, why didn't I just smile and power walk away? I am so fucking bad at confrontations. It almost seems like I have to be pushed again and again before I stand up for myself.

Sweet Jesus

duh

A guy I haven't heard from since the beginning of June wrote "I lost my phone. Would you mind giving me your phone number again?" My initial reaction was "yes, yes yes!! Of course you can have my number, silly!!"

But instead I replied with an "I don't think that is a good idea.". Fuck. Me. But it's just.. I haven't heard from him in a long time, so I slowly stopped thinking about him. It was all good. But now he's on my mind again. Great. I mean, he could basically have said "oh, so you're about to get over me? Here, why don't I text you so you start thinking about me again". Same shit.

Hmm. I feel awful about this. I can't believe I just fucking messed up the last chance I had of seeing him when I get back, soon-ish (thanks Pearlio). But again, this is all for the greater good.

.. Who am I kidding. I'm fucking ordering fried chicken and fries now. I feel like shit. AND DON'T JUDGE ME IT'S PERFECTLY OKAY TO GORGE ON JUNK FOOD WHEN YOU'RE NOT FEELING SUPER DUPER.


.. Eh.

Hmm.

I overheard a girl talking about a documentary she had seen, about Thai women who leave Thailand in order to find a Western husband. She said something a la "a real mother wouldn't leave her children like that" (there's a mother in the documentary living in Denmark who haven't seen her son for one or two years).

.. Are you kidding me? "A real mother"? You spoiled fuck. Yes, it would be pretty damn optimal if mothers didn't leave their children, but do you really think that they do it for fun or because they want to? Most people in the West are so fortunate that they tend to forget that other countries, for example Thailand, doesn't have the same standards. Heh. It's sad when people take things for granted..

Anyway. Back to the "awful" Thai mothers who leave their kids. Sure, thinking back when it comes to my pre-Denmark childhood sucks. Why? Because I had no idea who my mom was. People get a bit shocked when they hear that, and sure it would have been nice to have been a kiddo with my mom around - but she did it for me. The reason why she weren't a "real mother who is around", is because she worked non stop in a factory in the outskirts of Bangkok, in order to earn money, so I could have an okay life. 

Someone once asked me "why didn't she just get a job in Isaan so she could be close to you?" Uh.. My mom earned ca. 117 (usually a bit more though) dollars a month where she worked. That's not a lot - especially if you have to send back money to 4-5 family members in Northeast. And that job was in Bangkok. Jobs in Isaan are shit compared to jobs in Bangkok. So.. A job with almost no pay in a poor region or a job with better pay in another region? Do the math. Idiot. Anyway. She worked and lived in the factory and I thought my grandparents were my parents since I grew up with them and never saw my mom. Boom. There.

Okay. I'm getting slightly passive-aggressive now, but spoiled farang people who automatically assume a mother can't be anything but a bad mom if she's away from her kid for a few years is pissing me off! Get it, not everyone are as lucky as people in the West. 

I haven't talked with my mom for a long time now, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm grateful for what she has done. She went to a country where she didn't know anyone, couldn't speak the language etc, in order to marry a man she had met through an newspaper ad saying something a la "young Thai woman seeking husband". Sure, that sounds a bit ridiculous, but that was a huge sacrifice from her side. She had no idea who she would end up with (luckily it was Lars, my reclusive, awkward, antisocial but awesome dad), but she still did it - for me. So I could grow up and have the opportunities she never had.

Some people tend to laugh a bit or ridicule Thai/farang couples, where the woman is way younger than the husband, but well, most people are stupid fucks, I guess. They wouldn't make fun of it, if they knew how big of a bitch real poverty can be. It's about survival and about TAKING A FUCKING CHANCE IN LIFE. 

Since when has that been a bad thing? 

I would probably have slaved away my youth in some shit factory or worked as a bar girl in Pattaya, if my mom hadn't married Lars. But now I'm still pretty fortunate, even though I'm not in contact with my mom. Like, sure I'm broke - but that's my own fault. But I'm still fortunate enough to be able think "eh, Thamma or Chula university? Which one is good enough for me..". 

Hmpf. My mom once told me that she felt ashamed of herself whenever she saw tourists in Bangkok casually walking around with their kids clad in expensive clothes and walking around with expensive toys. She wanted the same for me, but she just couldn't afford it. 

Or, at least not until she met Lars. It's scary how spoiled I am (were?). Like, I asked my mom for an apartment in Bangkok, and got one ASAP. And I've never ever paid for a plane ticket to Thailand myself. Either they've been free or almost free (connections, bitches) or paid by my parents.. Sure I've told people that I've paid for my own tickets, but that's a huge lie. If I've paid for them myself, then it means that my parents wired me cash. 

And the worst thing is that I still take it for granted.. Like, I saw a nice apartment for rent in Bangkok, and I was so close to calling my mom and asking if she wouldn't.. Well, as I said the last time I wanted her to buy me an apartment "but mom! the location is great! it's right across Lumphini park and all the embassies, it's in the best part of Bangkok! You don't want me to live in a slum, do you? .."  Fuck. I am no better than the people I am ranting against. Hmpf.

Anyway. As I said, I'm broke for the moment. Family issues and all. It sucks, but it's good for me to truly broke (I have 4 dollars on my account until the 30th haha.... ha). Like, I used to take so many things for granted - and I still do. But I guess that what I'm trying to say, is that this shit is good for me. I need this. 

Racism and an Orangutan sex slave

This is messed up

"You could choose a human if you preferred, but it was a novelty for many of the men to have sex with an orangutan [...] They shaved her every other day [...] They would put rings and necklaces on her. She was absolutely hideous to look at."

Yup. Those quotes and the photo pretty much sums up everything.  

WTF article (yes, click here! Look!!)

Also, I shared my fridge with another girl who lived here. But luckily she moved back to Herning. When I realized she had moved, I couldn't help but go all "yes.. yes.. yes!!! THANK YOU JESUS (even though I don't believe in you).

Why? Because she was uhm.. Rather special. Like, on my third-ish night here, I asked her which block was the worst, just to keep on small talking with her. When she answered "definitely the fifth block", I assumed it was because they were all gross fuckers who never cleaned up or just noisy.. But apparently it was because there were so many Africans.. 

And oh, it didn't stop there. Ca. 2 weeks later I ran into her in the kitchen around midnight. She had the cleaning week, so she was cleaning up the kitchen. We ended up small talking again, because I was going to stay at the kitchen for a while anyway, since I was cooking (yup, got hungry around midnight). But when we started talking, she immediately started off saying "well, I'm a racist. No, I'm not.. I just don't like Muslims. Are you a Muslim?" 

Aaaaand then she went on and on. "Don't get me wrong, I do have a Turkish friend.. But she's just like us Danes, she smokes and she drinks and she loves to party.. And she doesn't like to hang out with other Muslims" .. 

Also, this is my favorite part of our conversation:

Her: So, are you half Danish Aphinya? Your skin is very dark

Me: No, but my step dad is Danish.

Her: I get why Danish men like Thai women. Thai women are just so feminine and good to cook and keep the house clean, just like Danish women back in the 50s

The best part of it, is that she said it to compliment me. But okay, apparently I'm not Thai then. I mean, sure I rock at cooking, but my room looks like shit for the moment and I'm not that feminine. 

I wish I could say that I stood up to her or something like that, but I didn't. I didn't say "uhm, can you please stop?" or anything like that. Why? Because I had just moved in and didn't want to start off fighting with one of the major players in the block

Man, I suck. And I despise myself for not standing up at that time. I mean, why would alienating myself from the others even bother me? They all suck more or less anyway. Or, not all of them... But still, I shouldn't have cared. I should have said something back at her, to make her understand that her attitude isn't okay at all. 

Or, I actually did say something back at her. But that was days later, when I overheard her trash talking an Indian guy who also lives her. She said something about wanting to "kick his garlic ass", which pissed me off big time. 

I meant to say "listen, I think that you should start considering your words more carefully, because some people might find them offensive.", but instead it come out as:

 "listen, I think that you should start considering your words more carefully, because... Fuck! You're a stupid racist fuck and you make me sick! I don't like you!!!". Yup, very mature of me.

Hmpf. Not my proudest moment. But once I got started, I couldn't stop. I mean, she's not a bad person... She did help me settle in the kitchen after all, and gave me a full pack of Wasa crisp bread when I didn't have anything left in the fridge one day. I guess she's just misguided.

Buddhist Hell themed amusement park, wtf night out and Japanese spider crabs

I went out with two girl friends. I had a lot of fun and somehow I woke up next to two Arla boxes on the bed. Anyway. My friend Signe is cool, but she's very, very girlie, which is something I have to get more used to. Like, I usually only say "baby" or "honey" to my friends when I'm being sarcastic, but she says it all the time, über seriously. I kid you not. But again, she's a cool kid.

Ahem. Moving on. So, we were at a bar in the Meat Packing District, where she met a guy named Claes, when we were dancing. She turned over to me and said "I know this is going to be awkward for you, because Kasper is here".. And then pointed over to a guy who weren't him, but apparently some dude named Lars (why am I so good at remembering names?). I just shrugged it off and lol'ed a bit about it, but apparently she didn't really get that it wasn't him, because she kept saying "Aphinya, is this awkward?" But, the only awkward thing for me, was kinda the fact that her and Claes has a rather messed up but hilarious past. Insert lolness.

Anyway, I'm going to Morocco! I have no idea when, but I'm going! Anne's (the other girl) artist friend invited us along down to North Africa! Rad! Another rad thing: Japanese Spider Crabs. I spent my last night of preparing for finals reading a ton about Japanese spider crabs instead of actually fucking studying. But seriously. So radical. So humongous! Also, I wonder if they're any good food wise..

Here you go. Instant awe.

Also also. I have a super weird thing going on with a guy. 26, attorney and all that. And somehow this is slightly turning into a "sugar daddy" thing, because he's offering to buy various things for me.. Like a plane ticket. But did he honestly expect me to actually say yes? I can't even go out eating with a friend if she/he is paying for the dinner without feeling super fucking weirded out.

So! Status!
Copenhagen! No contact with family! Hungover! Ripping headache! Annoyed over Africans living upstairs who are currently having sex to the sound of awful gospel! Going hitchhiking soon! Come to my cremation if I ended up being hacked to pieces by a lunatic serial killer along the autobahn!

Aaaand. A friend of mine wrote an awesome article and guess who he quoted! ME OF COURSE. Seriously, it's the best article ever. It deserves a Cavling for insightful journalism regarding a... Hell N Torture themed Buddhist amusement park. Lolwat. Oh Thailand, I love you.

.. Yup. Pupils dingling in their guts. I love Buddhist Hell theme parks.

http://io9.com/5915890/spend-a-lovely-day-with-the-kids-at-thailands-hell-torture-theme-park

holla.

So. I went to Thailand. You know, trying to solve this and that. I had so many plans and there was so much I wanted to do. But oh well, life sucks after all. I ended up doing a lot of stupid things, like getting involved in things I shouldn't have been involved in to begin with. 

But the thing is, I learned a lesson. I'm 20 years old after all (so I think). I suppose the reason why I've always gone back to my mother, is because it was convenient. I mean, not literally going back, but going back as in I acknowledged her dominance over me and whenever I said things like "fuck you blabla I've had enough", she always knew that I would return sooner or later, because well.. A miserable but good materialistic wise life is better than just a miserable life. 

Or, that's what I assumed. Anyhow. I finally sucked up, stop whining (sort of) and went my own way. Sure. I can't afford this or that anymore, but life is okay. I still haven't figured out whether I'm going to end up interning for Bangkok Post, studying at Chula or Thamma or whatever, but oh well. I'm still young. I have plenty of time to figure out what I want to do. 

But before I end up studying again (still taking the Danish e-courses in case I end up deciding that I want to study at KU, but meh - that doesn't count) or whatever I'm gonna end up doing, I need to fucking sort out myself. I know I'm capable of this and that and I'm relatively intelligent for a 20 year old, but man. I am messed up. Low self esteem, suicidal, blabla, all that. I know - I'm not the only one in the world waking up feeling shitty all day long. This is not something special or anything, but you know, I sort of want to be.. Happy? Or just content. I guess I'll go with content to begin with. I can always take it further from there.  

But yeah. Before I begin on this or that, I need to start waking up happy and stop thinking about various ways to commit suicide and whatnot. Hmm. I suppose it's been an okay day today. Beautiful weather + not so many "what if I jumped out in front that bus over there - will someone miss me?" thoughts as usual. Hmm. It's getting cold. But I've just made myself a humongous cup of warm ginger tea. So it's okay. 

Gråt.

So. Around last time this year, my grandpa tried to commit suicide. He was sick, and didn't want to stick around anymore, I suppose.When people asked me about how he was doing in the hospital, I told them not to worry, and that he would be fine soon. After all, he was just a bit sick. Nothing more. I didn't tell them that he had tried committing suicide.

I mean, when people ask you how you're doing, they really don't want to know. They just expect you to come with the "im fine! you?" answer. An answer like that is easier to handle than a "i fucking hate you and everyone else in this fucking world, and i wish humanity had a fucking neck so i could choke it".

But that's how I'm feeling. My life is weighing me down. And I found out my grandpa had been involved in a car accident today. He's in the hospital now. I don't know if he did it on purpose or if it was an accident.

Suicide is a strange thing. Sometimes it feels like it's the best thing I could do for myself. You know, just letting go. As Sam Cooke mentioned in a song, it's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die.

I wonder if sadness runs in the family. After I visited my family spring, I pretty much isolated myself in a cabin in the woods. I stayed there, without really doing anything. I didn't want people to visit me, I just wanted to be alone. It helped to begin with - but then everything went downhill. Like, I ended up isolating myself so much I became semi crazy, I suppose.

I started seeing things, hearing voices and whatnot, when I went out for a walk and when I swam (the cabin was next to a lake), it seemed like something was trying to pull me down under the water.

I want to carry on, because I have no idea of what's waiting on the other side. But at the same time, I'm starting to doubt myself more and more. And even when people are making small jokes, I get catty. I'm so unsure of myself that I expect almost everything someone say to me, is meant sarcastic or mockingly.

I don't really want to hang around, but I'm afraid to die.

Hårdknude

I couldn't sleep tonight. So I took my duvet and went up on the roof. I didn't do anything, I just sat there, only wearing panties. I had my duvet, but I was still shivering. At the end, it got so cold that it felt like my skin was burning.

I needed to talk to someone. But at the same time, I didn't feel like talking or being with someone. I'd rather be alone than pretend I'm alright. At least for now. Pretending to be alright all the time, is taking a toll on me.

I went out shopping with a friend a few days ago. She talked about her boyfriend and the Philippines, and I smiled, laughed and made sure to say all the right things. But every time I saw a bus, I felt like walking in front of it. I don't want to make a scene or anything, I just get this urge sometimes. Pretty often. All the time.

I don't want anyone to get upset, I just don't really feel it anymore. When I see a knife, I feel like cutting - although cutting yourself with a knife is harder than doing it with broken glass or a razor blade. And when I walk across a street, I secretly wish getting hit by a car or a bus, etc. There are no crazy or wild thoughts behind it, it's all quite dispassionate. I'm just not feeling it. I chose to live, a long time ago, but living doesn't feel right. I can't really explain it, but it just feels wrong, somehow. I don't really believe in the future, I suppose. I'm stuck in the past.


I feel disconnected. And hungry.

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.

บุญคุณ

Spent my last cash on cameras, plane tickets (yes, plane tickets, back again soon so holler at me - you + me = next week?), film for my instax, normal photo film and whatnot in down town today. I am officially broke until Tuesday. Fuck. FUCK.

First I was like "omg lulz whatever, gonna call motherrrr" but then I realized I had asked her to stop pouring in money in my account, because I felt too privileged. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me. "Oh mom, I have way too much money, I can't handle it, so plz stop?" Fuuuuuuuck

Okay, I'm only broke until tuesday, but dayum, this sucks. Anyway, ended up saying "baby, nooo!" to my MasterCard outside a clothing store, when I realized I didn't have enough money to buy what I wanted. Fuck. I actually talked to my MasterCard. What.

And yes, someone caught me talking to my MasterCard. He stared at me, semi scared. I smiled to him (rather awkwardly) to assure him that I'm perfectly normal but meh, I sort of failed at that. Sigh. Aphinya, scaring away guys since the early 90's.

Anyway. Went out for some drinks with a few other Thai girls today. We talked about the usual stuff, our dislike for the majority of humanity, Asian expectations etc.

Asian expectations, huh? I feel brainwashed somehow. Like, I've been taught from an early age that sending money back to my family is just something I do without question it, and even know when I'm (supposed to be) adult, I have a hard time question it. I just do it. Because that is what you're supposed to do, if you're Thai. It's about duty.

Like (one of my favorite words) a Thai girl we didn't know approached us in the restaurant and at first we were like "hey girl heyyyy" and "giiiiirl, where you from, north east??? OMG WE'RE FROM NORTH EAST TOO!!!" but when we realized she couldn't speak one worth Thai and most importantly - Isaan and that she didn't sent any money back home to her grandparents, the sisterhood kinda stopped.. I mean, of course we were still nice to her and we had fun, but it was not the same.

I know I shouldn't judge her, but at the same time it's hard, because I have such a hard time understanding why she can't speak Thai, Isaan and why she doesn't send back any money to her grandparents. First I thought she was adopted, but no. I mean, I would definitely have been able to understand her situation then, but this? I don't get it. I just don't.

It's called บุญคุณ. Bhun khun. You grow up and you work hard and pay back your parents, grandparents etc by.. You know, generally speaking บุญคุณ is what one ends up owing, in an obliging fashion and without regrets or hesitation, to your parents and your better teachers. It may be a bit awkward to translate directly into English, but I don't think the sentiment is difficult to grasp.

Okay okay okay, truth is, I didn't treat the Thai girl who approached us very well, when I found out she knew nothing about her background. She didn't even know what the hell I was talking about when I mentioned som tam. Som fucking tam. How the hell can you be Isaan and not know som tam? Fuck. 

I ignored her afterwards. I didn't say anything to her, but not saying anything was pretty much the same as saying "lol bitch hell naww, you no belong hiiir". I feel bad for having rolled my eyes at her and saying things like "what is she doing here? she's clueless" in Isaan to the other girls right in front of her.

I don't know why I reacted so strongly. Why did I even care, when I normally don't care much at all?


Oh well. I made this:

Homemade Thai food. Yummy x 500000

 

ligegyldighed

I'm thinking about dreams right now. Like, there are rules in dreams which you just don't break, even though you have no idea what they are or mean. Something like that.

Great. Just spilled hot chocolate all over my lap. Ok. Moving on.

I wonder why on earth I ended up in the west. Sometimes it feels like a mistake. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for everything, but you know, I can't stop thinking about "what if" scenarios etc. Sometimes I feel so lonely here. It's so cold. 

I don't consider myself superstitious or too religious, but at the same time I think a lot about the spirits and the gods my family pray to. I miss Thailand. I miss seeing colored cloths on tree trunks. If the clothes are saffron colored, it means the tree is a holy tree of Buddha and if the cloths are multi colored, it means they are inhabited by a spirit. 

I miss seeing that. I miss listening to my grandparents tales about spirits, gods,  ancestors, etc. There aren't any tales left for me here. I know I'm lucky. I still remember the days where we didn't have anything. Everything is different now. I have too much. 

I went out shopping yesterday. I only spent a little over 1400, so I didn't spent as much as usual, but you know, it was nice. Got a few shoes, a few dresses and whatnot. Walking around with shopping bags full of clothes made me feel.. Satisfied. 

Then I got home and realized that everything is pretty much still shit. Just stared on my phone. Wanted to call my family, but I didn't. Meh.

Forced myself to be all happy when I went out for a few drinks with Malee and some other girls. Oh luls, everyone know me as happy Aphinya. Funny Aphinya. All that shit. If just they knew. But they don't.

Urgh. Why is it so cold? Fuck. 

Daddy issues

My biological dad called today. He asked if I was doing okay. When I was in the middle of telling him about wanting to meet my sisters when they got older, he interrupted me and asked if I could send down some money. You know, just a couple of thousand bucks.

I didn't know what to say, so I sort of just held my breath for a bit. Then he started talking again. "don't you love me?". I didn't want him to hear my cry, so I hung up, lay down on my bed and pulled a duvet over myself.

I've spent years trying to track him down, to apologize for being a brat when he met me back in April 04.. But I actually regret having heard from him again. Ok, that wasn't a nice thing to say, but it's just.. You know, it hurts.

A friend of mine once asked me why I answered my biological dad's calls anyway. I understood his question, but at the same time it disappointed me that he didn't see it from my side. Like, he's my fucking dad. I want to know him. I want him to know me. And even though I know he's more interested in my wallet than me, I still cling to the hope that he'll see me for what I really am one day. His daughter - not an ATM. 

Oh well, shit happens. Gotta suck it up.

On a lighter note: Just finished reading Day By Day Armageddon. Again. For the 3rd time within a week. J.L Bourne, I love you. One of the best zombie novels. Ever.


Dun dun dun, what to read next.

Hitchhiking stories & fat punks not dead

Some photos I snapped when I visited friends in the H42 squat in Oslo, a few months before it got evicted.

That's how I rolled. I traveled a lot. Hitchhiking, backpacking, bus, trains, cross country biking, whatnot. I listened to a lot of punk. Still do. Not so much into hardcore though. More into crust. 

So well, I basically moved around from collective to collective, hitchhiked, spent my nights at unusual places on the road (various benches, under bridges, under the skies on random fields, in junkie parks, regular parks, under a van, tree houses, wendy houses, garden sheds, barns, roofes, along river banks, etc - with or without tents and sleeping bags) between a collective and another. 

Sometimes I traveled with a friend, sometimes I traveled with strangers. Still have nightmares about the Emmanuel guy. In short: I was 16. Met a guy named Emmanuel in Stuttgart at Be Part Fest (a punk festival). Some of my friends were hitchhiking to Barcelona and I wanted to go too, but hitchhiking 3 is kinda hard, so I was happy when we met Emmanuel. 

Flo and Hannes hitchhiked together and Emmanuel hitchhiked with me. Fail? Yes. He went nuts after a few days on the road. Started talking about God. He said something a la "dude, God gave me a vision", like multiple times when we were up in the freakin mountains, shit am. I was tired. Couldn't take it anymore. But it was so late and he had thrown his sleeping bag, passport, money, purse, canned food and whatnot in a river while still being in his "duuuude god gave me a mission" mode, so I couldn't just leave him. After all, I had the only sleeping bag and it was really damn fucking cold, because we were so far up. 

So I stayed with him and listened to all his bullshit until dawn. We slept in a park. People stared at us, like we sick or something. Like it was contagious. But I didn't care, just listened to punk rock and waited for the sun to rise, so I could get the hell away from him. 

I ran away when I saw the sun starting to come up. Didn't have any money because my purse was in the backpack he threw out, but I didn't care, I just wanted to get away. Jumped a train to Paris. Ended up sleeping in a park with junkies. They were nice though. Even offered me meth (or crack?). I mean, I suppose that was a nice thing, considering they were poor hobo junkies... But well, obviously I said no. Just wanted to listen to punk rock and get some sleep. 

Ok. That was the Emmanuel story. I actually met him in Denmark at Shittown punk fest later. He told me he jumped a train to Paris right after me and that he ended up in a mental institution in Paris because he had been walking around, screaming to God and making a scene at Arc de Triomphe. Meeting him again was very awkward.

Anyway, I was actually supposed to tell something about Norway. But now I can't remember what I was going to write. My memory span is made of fail.

Wait. Have I already scribbled the Emmanuel story down before? Shit I can't remember.

But here are the photos:

Grå dage

Ok. Went out with some Thai girls, everything was cool. Some Latino guys were staring at us, when we danced with each other. No, we did not make out and/grind each other and discretely looking at guys while doing it, in order to draw male attention.. We just danced. You know, we were just some happy girls dancing with good friends and having fun.

Anyway, the Latino guys closed in on us. One of them started dancing behind me. Or wait, dancing? It was more something a la rubbing his fucking dick on my butt. What the hell was he thinking? "Uh, if I grind this girls ass then she will totally sleep with me?" DUDE. I DON'T KNOW YOU. GET YOUR DICK AWAY FROM MY ASS. Thank you.

Anyway, tried ignoring him. Didn't work. He squeezed my ass. Lolfuckingwat. Who the fuck squeezes a strangers ass? I turned around, rolled my eyes at him and made it clear that I didn't want anything to do with him. But did that work? No. He simply said "damn you Asian girls got sum serious cum-fu. Spicy!". Fuck. FUCK.

Anyway. I met him again when I was on my way home alone. Didn't want to stay and keep drinking, just wanted to go home and check up on rolls of film and whatnot. I dunno, I suppose I just like being alone. When I was sitting outside, inserting a roll of film inside a camera, he came over and apologized. I smiled and said it was ok. Then he moved closer and asked me if I was down to do something. Then he grabbed my arm and said "come on girl, I know you want to" and tried sticking his other hand up under my skirt. Shit, that freaked me out. Didn't really know what else to do, so I ran.

Jesus fucking christ. I don't really feel going outside these days. Just want to stay inside, looking at endless rolls of destroyed film. I will never be able to use them again, but you know, being in the darkroom is comforting. I like it there. It's nice being able to shut off the rest of the world.

I'm over everything that happened back in February 10', but at the same time, I suppose I'm not. Like, I can't stand being touched, but at the same time, I'm yearning after the whole "imma give you a hug and tell you that everything is going to be ok" package. Does that make any sense? I fucking hope so.


Uh. Good news. Anna is coming over with smoked duck, garlic bread, avocado salad, more garlic bread, lobster with chives mascarpone.. And wine!


I love you Anna

Lort

Haven't really slept the last couple of days. The border between reality and fantasy seems to become increasingly blurred. Went to the darkroom. Someone had turned on the light. Thanks for ruining my latest photos. I wanted to scream and fucking bang my head against the wall.

Instead I went back. Anna was there. We shared a bottle of whiskey, while she talked about all the guys she had fucked since new years eve. I sat in front of the mirror meanwhile, smearing red lipstick on. I wanted to fucking stab myself in the face with the lipstick. If just it was a knife. I hate mirrors, but at the same time I can't walk past one without glaring at myself. Sigh.

Great. Michael just contacted me. I don't want this to happen. I wish he could realize that I'm no good and stay away. I want to call him and tell him that I'm sorry and whatnot, but oh well. This is for the greater good. Sigh. The cutest guy of Hunter freaking college. I'm sorry for being a bitch, but he'll thank me one day, for not dragging him with me down.

.. Some woman just approached me in the local grocery store. She asked me if I liked apples. Didn't say anything. Just stared at her. I wanted to bitch slap her and throw her down some flight of stairs which lead into a big pit of fire. Dunno why. Just felt like it.

I get that urge sometimes. You know, flipping out in front of strangers, just to see how they react. To see if they actually give a fuck.

Ok. Ended up talking with Michael. Why does my heart feel so bad? I wish he was here right now. But I'm no good for him, so even though I want to be with him, I'm trying to keep my distance, because he's just.. Way too good for me. Besides, I like him too much. And I don't want that, because I like having my feelings under control.

Sigh. Why is he so stubborn? I wish he could realize that I'm no fucking good and move on. Open your eyes, son. Fuck. This fucking love story motherfucking sucks. I want a fucking happy ending, God. Give it to me you bastard. Ok ok, I know I'm being selfish. Letting Michael go is the best thing I can do for him - but it's hard. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Hearing him say I'm beautiful and that he just wanna be around me, made my heart skip several beats. But then I realized he was high. Oh. Bummer. I'm his, and he doesn't even know it. And now it's all too fucked. Sometimes I wish he hadn't entered my life. I told him he was one of the best things that happened to me way back in fall. I wonder if he can remember that, or if he was too high. Huh.

Anyway. I'm tired. I don't really know what to do with myself right now. Ate ice cream with a friend a few hours ago. I can feel how I'm slowly starting to resent myself for every minute. Urgh. I wanna look like Isabelle Caro.

Ok. I'm hungry, but lazy as fuck. So I google pictures of food instead. Sigh. This is sad + I need a hug.


Dun dun dun. Some photos of my day with Ibbers, a long time ago. Or actually just 2 months ago, but I consider that to be a long time. Did I already upload these photos? I can't remember. God! I'm getting old.

Nej

                                           

Everything seems to be so fucking perfect on the outside. But nothing of it is real. I don't know why, but I feel like being 100% percent honest for the moment. I get this urge sometimes. Maybe because I spend so much time hiding my feelings and lying. I don't lie about big things, but if someone ask me if I'm doing fine, I always say the same. I always tell them that everything is okay, even though it's bullshit.

I hate my body, because I used to be skinny - and I loved it. I loved lying down in bed, feeling all my bones and being so painfully hungry, without giving after. A few girls in class told our teacher about their eating disorders and whatnot. I despised them for giving up. I distanced myself from them, because they were losers. But our teacher just told them how brave they were. Urgh.

Me? Well. My mom gave me diet pills for Christmas and taught me not to give up. She taught me that purging after dinner is perfectly okay. Every time I ate a bit more than usual for dinner, she used to look at me, and then she would say "do you want to look like an elephant? no one is going to love you" to me, in Isaan. My mother tongue.

Pig, elephant, hippo, etc. That's what my mom used to call me when I did
something wrong. This day today, I still react when people say pig, hippo etc. I just got too used to being called ugly names, so they sort of became a part of me. My name is Aphinya. It's pronounced Apiña. My name means gorgeous beloved flower in Thai. But instead, I react to names related to big and clumsy animals. Ironic.

I remember sitting and reading about concentration camps once. God, I felt so jealous. I wanted to look like the girls in the photos. Frail, skeleton like, beautiful. But instead I looked like a pig. Still do. Back when I was 14, I bought a book about torture victims, and stumbled upon Junko Futura, a Japanese girl who got abducted when she was 17 and held for 44 days. I remember reading about how she got tortured. It was pretty brutal. Her nipples were cut off, her eyelids burned with cigarettes, fucked with scissors, hands smashed by weights, raped, flammable liquid poured on her legs and then lit on fire, etc. And yet I just got jealous. Because apparently she managed to lose a lot of weight.

I just want to be skinny again. Not thin, but skinny, dying. I feel lost under all these layers of fat. I used to be so beautiful once, back when I could feel all my bones and count all my ribs. But that was such a long time ago, so I can't really recall having been beautiful. It's like Michael's voice. I know that I love his voice, but I honestly can't remember it anymore. I just know that I love it. It's soothing, calming and makes me long for spring and well, him.

He's basically all I want. But I've had my chance. I opened up and I wanted to tell him so much about myself. Which is strange, because I usually don't get that feeling of wanting to share that much. But he's special. But he'll just make me sad, so instead of starting something I know is good for me, I started ignoring him, hoping he would stop contacting me. I regret being a bitch and not contacting him, but that's just how it is. Sometimes love's not enough when the road get's tough. I just wanted to fool around. I didn't know I was actually going to fall for him.

I suppose I'm just afraid that guys are going to turn out to be just like Jordan. After we started living together, everything quickly deteriorated. He started calling me names. Bitch, fat, ugly, gross, pig and whatnot. And if he didn't like what I had cooked, he made me cook something new for him or else.. Well. I ended up in the hospital a lot. Bruised.

It all ended one day when he he headed off to the airport while I was showering, on his way back to the Southwest. I freaked out when I realized that he was gone and went out, trying to find him - only wearing a dress. In the middle of February.

I didn't find him. Instead, I ran into two guys near the forest. I asked if they had seen him. They asked me to come closer. You know, some say they can't recall a thing, that it's all blurry for them. That they blacked out. Unfortunately, I didn't black out. I remember thinking what I had done to deserve it.

Afterwards, I felt like my life was a fucking joke. I just wanted to die. My parents were in Thailand and didn't felt like they needed to get back asap to see if I was okay. And Jordan? He pretty much just laughed over the phone, said I looked like a toad and that he didn't care. Heh. That's what he said, when I needed him the most. Even though he started making fun of my rape, I didn't hung up. I just asked him if he was okay and if he needed anything.

I suppose I started suppressing all the positive feelings for real after that, because I was afraid of being happy. Still am. I fear that the world will come crashing down if I let myself be happy for one moment. But at the same time, I'm longing to feel happy again. Which is ironic, because I don't really remember how it is to be happy. So I suppose I'm yearning for something unreachable.

I'm afraid to get hurt, so I close down. Which just makes me lonely in the end, because I always end up losing someone on the way.

Oh, when did life become this miserable? It's like I can't feel a thing, but at the same time I feel so bruised. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep, because I'm so tired of everything. I'm not sad, I'm just so tired of how bleak everything looks. But even though I'm so exhausted and miserable, I can't really feel a thing. Or, I suppose I can. But I have a hard time focusing on the positive feelings.

Seeing what I've become, makes my heart ache. Every time I see myself in the mirror, it's like I can feel my heart break in tiny pieces. I hate mirrors, but at the same time I can't help looking at my own reflection every time I walk past a mirror. Sometimes I just stand in front of my mirror, for minutes and minutes.

 It's hard to believe I used to be beautiful once. But again, that was such a long time ago. I ended up in an international boarding school in Thailand, where the teachers forced me to eat. I slowly started to gain weight, and see where I am now. Sigh. I hate being so horrible ugly.

Someone just asked me how I can be down. After all, everything is utterly awesome in my age. Thing is, I'm not sad or anything. Just really disappointed over how life has turned out to be. Meaningless. But at least Jordan is dead. Knowing he's not going to hurt me anymore makes life a little less miserable.




There's too many people on this earth. We need a new plague.