Oh, the drudgery!

Sometimes it's hard to swallow the, oh-so-hard, fact that life isn't an adventure all the time. Sure, there are worse problems in the world, but we all have the right to complain every now and then. You know that feeling when you know that you're on your way, you're on the go, but things are going incredibly slow, right before that "pop" that makes it all go "swoosh"? Yup, that's how I feel at the moment. Feels like i'm wading through a huge sea of tar, not in the negative sense, it's just that i'm bored out of my mind and I have no patience what so ever. So why not swing by here and let off some steam? It's been quite a while since I last came here.

So what's new? I'm still searching for my place in the world, that "magical place" where I want to settle down and everything is fluffy and cuddly and happy happy joy joy. I've ended up in Gothenburg again after about three and a half years of exile. Gonna try to hit the road when summer comes around the corner, have managed to find this awesome into-the-wild-kinda course in northern Sweden(starts in august) which i'm gonna apply for. Would be nice to do some good old travellin' before it starts. Until then i'm gonna work and save up some cash just for the sake of having some extra cash on my account. I really need to get away somewhere sometime soon, I haven't travelled properly since I came back from Africa. Sure, i've been drifting between Malmö and Gothenburg but it doesn't really count. I crave the open spaces, the endless road, the deep forests, the high mountains and the way of life that occurs only when you're on the road. I miss it real hard sometimes. But I suppose my lesson until I head out again is to be patient, that it's OK that take it slow sometimes. To relax, to be bored out of your mind, go crazy and paranoid about this insane society we all live in. In a way it's quite healthy to be stuck for a while I suppose, since it gives me even more reasons to go and even more lust for a life outside the "safety net". 

I still have that empty hole inside me, and it's not only because of the lack of travelling in my life lately, it's more the feeling of being disconnected with the world. The universe if you like. Sometimes I feel that i'm closing in on that "which-could-make-me-feel-complete", but it keeps evading me. There's always this constant longing for something of which I cannot name, nor place my finger on. I do know that it has something to do with this society, i've written all about it before(numerous times), but I still haven't found the answer. Or the cure. But one day I will. 

Or die trying.

Up and up we go.

There. Finally. I'm climbing upwards again after having had some sort of a mental recession during the summer. The sun can't shine all the time, nor can it rain all the time either. Plans are being made and ideas are taking form once more. Not sure what it was really that made me feel so low for a while, wether it was the experience of coming back to a world where mostly everyone is trying their damdest to pretend to live lives which are fake, but sure as hell looks good from the outside, or perhaps the feeling of letting myself down on my dreams and self-imposed expectations or the realization that I really don't fit anymore. I went to a couple of punk-shows, had a few drunken nights and it wasn't fun. Not one bit. Becoming shitfaced every weekend pretending that i'm doing a difference or are any different from all the other lemmings out there is not my cup of tea. No thanks. Sure, people can do as they please with their own lives, but I do not wish to be dragged down into the bottomless pit of bullshit, negativity and self-deception.
 Did some studying, was fun for a while although it generated a wee bit more stress in my life than I actually needed, and since I do not have any dreams of becoming a doctor or a big boss somewhere I simply quit a while ago. To be honest, it was mostly for the free cash and the possibility of more spare time that enticed me, not the possibilty of having better grades on a fancy paper with my name on it. I suppose I fooled myself since I did not get any more spare time, but I did have fun for a bit. I've even quit eating my anti-depressives, I threw them in the dustbin of doom about a month ago. And guess what? I feel fucking great. I do not believe in the fact that dining on pills for the rest of our lives can or could make our lives happier or healthier. Quite the opposite. That crap is designed to make us dependant and addicted to them, same with alcohol and ciggarettes.

What now then? Well. I'm going back to my old job to raise some money so I can head off again. Canada looms in the distance. Of all the solutions and possibilities i've been twisting my mind with, travelling is the one that tickles my heart the most. I've got nothing to gain by sitting idle and waiting for something better to come along, as a lot of people out there do, i'd rather grab it myself while I still have the chance. Hopping on the fun-wagon, the crazy-train bound for nowhere in particular. There's a whole world out there and all the things I wish to learn I can learn out there(or anywhere), for free and with a big smile on my face while screaming my lungs out, lauging like a maniac at life.

Sure, coming back hasn't been all piss and misery, i've met several amazing people whom I wouldn't have met if I hadn't come back and I have ofcourse learned a thing or two as well during my stay. Meeting good-hearted friends is always warming, it's nurturing the soul and it's always nice to know that no matter where you go, or how far it may between your meetings, true friends never really disappear.
I've had my fun(and lowtime) here for a while but now it's time to head out again. I've had my lessons, my impressions, my depression and have made some decisions. We live only once and I cannot for the love of any god understand why I should sit here, dreaming my life away while hearing about other people's broken dreams, when I could be out there myself, especially since I don't have anything that stops me. I've had my fun, my boredom, my false sense of security, my job, my studies for some time and now it's time to drop it all again. Jump off the cliff, because the cliff has been choking me and I really, really want to live.
I do not regret coming back as I believe that everything happens for a reason and a lot of great and fun things has happened to me since I came back and, like I wrote above, i've met several people that I am truly grateful for having met.

To be honest, I never really came back. It's not possible, I think, once you leave. Especially since I realize myself how much I've actually changed since I left for Africa in august last year. But coming "back" has been a lesson I needed to have, experiences, talks and ideas I needed to share.
For that I am happy I came "back".

Not a day goes by

Not a day goes by
without me gazing towards the horizon
pondering, dreaming and scheming
itchy feet taking one step at a time

Not a day goes by
without me wondering what's out there
restless, anxious and frustrated
weary eyes craving something new

Not a day goes by
without me asking why
curious, adventurous and defiant
lingering doubt growing day by day

Not a day goes by
without me saying my quiet goodbyes
sorrowful, seeking and yearning
an aging soul on a quest for its path

Not a day goes by
without me being astonished by life
grateful, joyous and understanding
lively hands grasping for hope

Not a day goes by
without me seeing through it all
wrathful, vengeful and forgiving
unrelenting spirit fighting for what it's worth

Not a day goes by
without me  saying my silent thank you

Not a day goes by
without me realising that life is worth living

Not a day goes by
without me hoping for something better

Not a day goes by
without me realising how lucky I really am

Not a single day...

Don't be afraid your life will end; be afraid that it will never begin." - Grace Hansen

For life.

It's quite funny how things turn out, isn't it? A year ago I knew exactly what I would do. Now i'm confused, depressed and lost. Again. Not sure what it is really since I should be happy. I mean, I have a home with a good friend of mine, a job and a girlfriend. I've travelled halfway through Africa by myself. I'm gonna start taking driving courses in a few weeks... But still there is something wrong with all this. There is something missing. Always. Can't place my finger on what it is, but there is something missing for sure. I hate this way of life. I reallly, really do. No matter what I do I feel like shit and I feel alone, or more precisely; like an outsider no matter what I do or who I hang out with... I don't want to live like this. I hate feeling like this. I should be happy, I should be content, but i'm not. Not even sure if I ever will be. It's not that I want stuff or an endless flow of money. It's just that it's all wrong. And i'm the one who's putting myself through this. I'm the one who chose to come back again. And in one big way I regret coming back. I regret becoming homesick while travelling Africa. Why? Well, why not? It's all the same here. I don't feel like I belong at all, even less than I did before I left. Nothing's changed. Not one bit. I don't hang out with people anymore. Sometimes I do, but on extremely rare occasions. I feel that I can't connect with people. Most of the time I don't even care. I've closed the door again. I don't feel comfortable anymore. I don't want to be here. I've even started eating anti-depressives again. And I smoke like a fucking chimney. At the moment there's a war in my head. I actually do know what's wrong though, I know why i'm feeling like this but for some reason I keep fighting it, fearing it when I don't have to because it doesn't really matter. Not one fucking bit. What I need to do is to kick myself in the butt and get going, I need to get out of this mess. I'm the one who put myself here and I can sure as hell get myself out of it as well. I've fallen into this false-sense-of-security trap. Bad. I managed to quit my job a few days ago, got two weeks left to work then i'm unemployed again. My big plan behind working was to raise money so I could go travel the US and Canada which would take me until march/april to raise enough cash. But one morning I woke up and had a "revelation" of sorts; I can't do it. I can't work. I just can't. I became more and more depressed when I started working, because it is the opposite of what I really want. I've been doing a lot of those things lately. Done a lot of things I don't really want to do, fallen back into old patterns. I'm doing the exact same things I was trying to leave about a year ago. I've quit drinking again though, that's always a start, even if it has left me even more lonely(as fucking usual when going sober). And instead of working i'm going back to school. My "revelation" consisted of the insight that no matter how much I travel, if and when I come back again, I'll always gonna have to start at square one again. Going through the whole process agin and again and again without really have gone anywhere. Not internally atleast. And since I got accepted into the school I was applying for I thought "why the hell not!? It sure beats working". It's nothing special really, only gonna read up on some grades like swedish, history, philosophy, medicine and such just to have something different to do. Going to the same warehouse, doing the same job over and over again for five days a week isn't happening for me. I can't do it mentally. Before I went to Africa I more or less promised myself that I wouldn't set foot inside a warehouse again. Well, I broke that promise and now I'm paying the price for it, mentally. I'll prolly just go to school here in Malmö until like december and next year i'll hopefully get accepted to a school in Värmland, close to the norwegian border where I can learn how to live outdoors and on a farm, how to grow my own vegetables and build my own house. I need to learn something new. I need to get it on paper as well so I can work with something different for once. But until then hopefully i'll manage to get a driving licence so I can get the fuck away and start living anew again. Every misfortune or bad turn brings a lesson, and this lesson is the lesson of life, I know this one well enough. I know exactly what to do. Just need to kick my fear of being alone in the face. I'm taking a chance here again, but i'm doing it not only because I have to, but also because I want to. I want to live, I want to appreciate every moment I breathe. I know how, it's just that it's a long and lonely road to take. But it'll be worth it in the end.

For life.

A friend once told me that I shouldn't live in cities, that it's bad for me.

I totally agree.

Thoughts, introspection and recollections.

This is the third time i'm trying to write something down in here, it's been quite a while since I updated this blog.

Well, i'm back from Africa. Came back at the end of february and I don't really know what to think of it to be honest. In some ways it feels great and in other ways it just feels...weird.
Maybe it is because here in Sweden i'm confronted with everyday life in a different way compared to how I was living in Africa. Or maybe it's the mentality here in Europe that bothers me, where people stab eachother in the back more often than I change my socks. At first it was the cold weather, it was terrible. But now as spring approaches and the sun is coming forth it's not so bad anymore.
But yes I managed to travel through southern Africa, working on farms for food and accommodation, hitchhiking, taking buses and trains. South Africa, Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Malawi, Tanzania and Kenya. Nearly seven months on that crazy, beautiful continent. I laughed, I got mad, I experienced and I lived. Yes, things didn't really turn out as I had hoped for, but everything happens for a reason. I got homesick after a few months and decided to do something about it and flew back to Sweden  from Kenya. Do I regret it? In some ways yes, in some ways no. What I miss the most is the warmth, not only the weather but also the warmth of the people in Africa. Things work differently in Africa that cannot be explained to people here in Europe that hasn't experienced it themselves. You can't put it in words, but it IS a completeley different world and a different way of thinking. A more natural and down-to-earth way of thinking, which is based on "the now". Everything works but in the same time it doesn't. It's a charm which cannot be found here in western civilization. One thing that i've brought with me from Africa is the fact that I simply can't take people here in Europe seriously anymore. We all have our problems, but many problems are quite small and ridicilous compared to the problems people face in Africa every single day. I mean, when you see people(and yes folks, even kids) living in mud huts, with barely any clothes on their back, no electricity and they're still happy it makes you think. Quite a bit. Sure, people shouted "give me money" almost everytime they saw this particular mzungu(white person) and sometimes it was heartbreaking(especially when small kids came up to you and the only thing they could say in english was that phrase) and sometimes it was frustrating, but I understand them, I would do the same if I was walking in their shoes. I got ripped off quite a few times, but it's not surprising since travelling white people usually means big business in Africa. Not all people will rip you off or beg money from you, but a lot of people will try, especially in the middle of Africa. Some people were blatantly honest about it, others were more careful about their intentions. And loads of people just wanted to help you out, to show the true face of Africa. I got a lot of help during my travels and still to this day i'm quite amazed and proud that I managed to travel more than 6000 kilometres by myself and nothing bad happened. People helped me with places to stay or pulled over and offered me a ride as I was walking towards a particular highway to get somewhere. Some people even wanted to share their food with me even though they had nothing themselves! That's Africa. that's humanity.

So what now? What's my next big plan? My next big adventure? Well, for a while I thought that i'd head off to Canada(one day I will though, been wanting to go there since I was a kid), besides that I didn't really know what to do. It's been really confusing coming back to this stale, two-faced  society. But, as I've said many times before, everything happens for a reason. A friend of mine offered me the chance to rent a small plot of land with him to grow vegetables and medical herbs, something i've dreamed of doing while working my ass off on those organic farms in Africa. So, I've decided to stay, for a while atleast, to work on the land, to be happily in love for the first time since I don't know when. I'm still drifting, mostly between Gothenburg and Malmö(sometimes I even have the luxury of sleeping in a bed), living out of my backpack. I'm even gonna get myself a driving license with the hopes of one day owning a small bus or van where I can live and roam the world as I please. Getting a dog is also planned for. Since i'm gonna stay i'm also thinking of staying in one place permanently for a while. A home.
Things change all the time, in some ways for the bad, but in my case the changes has been for the good and i'm eternally grateful for these events. I truly believe that every misfortune in life is a lesson and that every fortune in life is a result of that lesson being learned. I also believe that if you ask for something in life and truly believe in it, you will recieve it. Why not? Everything i've done the past year or so has been mind-breaking for a person like me, having the history that I do. I've never had nothing. Foster homes, juvenile homes and orphanages was the way I grew up. Angst, depression, drinking and drugs became my reality for far too many years. I've been through hell more times than I can count. But I realised one day that if I don't change and follow my heart, my dreams, I can just as well kill myself since I hated my life at that time. I did that change and it cost me dearly, but I'm happy I went through with it. Today, I can stand firmly on the ground saying:
"I'm free, I'm alive".

Life IS what you make of it.

"The only way to become truly free is when we have nothing left to lose."

 First off: I actually started writing this article a few weeks ago, but the computer I was using didn't really function that well so I lost half of what I had written. Well, things happen for a reason. A lesson I keep learning for each step here in Africa.

So here I am, resting my smelly, weary feet in on Living Art Organic Farm in Noordhoek, south of Cape Town. It's been a long ride so far, and i'm only at the beginning of my journey. Started out in Johannesburg, went all the way down to Durban, then up to Bloemfontein only to arrive in Cape Town after that. I've bathed my feet at the indian ocean in Durban, and have done the same in the atlantic ocean here in Noordhoek. It's been more than two months on the road for me in this amazingly beautiful country. South Africa. I've fallen in love with this country. The people, the cities, the farms, the scenic landscapes, the deserts, the mountains and even the beer. And i'm not done yet. In early November i'm planning to swing by Lesotho for a few days to get an extra three months in this country. I tried the other way via the Department of Home Affairs, but I came to the conclusion that bureaucracy is not my cup of tea. I'd rather do things my way.

What have I been doing so far? Well, my first ten days I spent in Johannesburg which was kinda nice, had a few beers, met some people and even got myself a sightseeing tour through some of the worst areas in the city(and in the world). After that I headed southeast for my first WWOOF'ing experience. For those of you who have no clue of what WWOOF is: It's a world wide organization which gathers farms(usually organic) all over the world where one can work in exchange for food and accommodation. Quite useful when traveling on a shoestring budget and you get to learn a lot. My first WWOOF'ing experience was at Donkey Valley Farm, located between Volksrust, Mpumalanga and Newcastle, KwaZulu-Natal. I stayed there for about two weeks and got to build a fence. first time in my life i've ever built anything properly. My experience at that farm  is kinda mixed, I loved the location but I didn't feel that I got along that well with the family that hosted me. Nothing bad, but sometimes the wavelengths of communication are simply not aligned with each other. So I decided to move on a few hundred kilometers to the south, to Howick and then onwards to Zuvuya eco-village. To get there I had to take a taxi(a taxi down here means a minivan that runs to and from cities and within cities, usually with up to 12-16 passengers, incredibly uncomfortable but ridiculously cheap). A note about the taxis: Most white people here in South Africa fear and loathe them just because they're mainly used by black people. Yes, people, racism still runs rampant here in the new South Africa. But ofc not all whites are racists, and yes it goes both ways, blacks vs whites, coloreds vs indians, everyone vs everyone. There's a lot of deep wounds in this country which will take a long time to heal. But in general people are incredibly friendly.
Anyways, I took a taxi from Newcastle to Howick, sat uncomfortable for about 2-3 hours and then I took another one to Impendle community(a zulu-village) where I met up with my hosts at Zuvuya where I had my second WWOOF'ing experience. And what can I say? I loved that place and I've vowed to go back there one day, actually had to promise them that I would and I will. Zuvuya is a somewhat self-sustainable Eco-village in the KwaZulu-Natal midlands with their own mountain and I had a great time there.

Here ends the first part of my original article and I will not try to rewrite what I lost, but instead swing it in a new direction and write something completely different.  I've learned a lot while on the road so far, time works differently, I see the world with a different set of eyes. I see clearly for the first time in my life. Nothing is impossible, it's never too late and, most importantly, things happen for a reason. Since I left my "home", the so called safety of society, my job and my so called "friends", things have finally gone my way. Everything I do feels right and i've met so many wonderful people along the way. People that have taught me something, helped me, given me hints or people that i've simply helped with an inspiring thought or two. People have been so amazingly helpful along my way. So far I haven't spent a single cent on accommodation, and barely any on food. I feel incredibly happy for the first time in my life to be alive and I feel lucky to be in this situation. But I still have fears. I'm currently still living on my hard-earned savings and they won't last me forever, they will take me far and wide for a long time, but one day they eventually will run out. But one day when I was walking around in Bloemfontein, just killing time while waiting for my couchsurfing hosts to show up, a homeless guy named William(I'll never forget that guy) pops up out of nowhere, grabs me, asking me where i'm from. We ended up trading things on the sidewalk while cars were rushing by us, people were trying their best not to see the two hobos talking excitedly on the street, discussing the meaning of life and laughing out loud. He gave me a rubik cube and I gave him a beanie to keep him warm during the cold nights. But it is what he told me that affected me the most. He told me that the only way to become truly free is when we have nothing left to lose. That one hit right on the spot. That is my only, for once, real fear at the moment. When my savings run out. But I know deep inside that I will manage to survive and keep going. I know that I will figure out a way to keep going. I'm a survivor and that's what we do. We keep going no matter what. I refuse to go back to the life I left just because I run out of money. Life cares none for money, careers and the other problems and concerns that is within and created by "our" society. And i've had many people telling me, ensuring me that I will be able to make it, people who supports me constantly tells me to never give up, to keep going no matter what. And I will. My plan so far is to learn a trade or a craft along the way so I can make some money to support my traveling. I'm asking for it and therefore it will come. I am working towards it and therefore an opportunity will come. I am currently learning all the time. The things i'm doing now, the situations I end up in these days, I couldn't even imagine them happen to me a year ago.
Slowly, day by day, i'm letting go of my fear and one day it'll be gone. Forever.

Everything seem to fall in place.

The Essence of Punk.

Here I am, in South Africa, travelling around and so far having the time of my life. But there is still something that is gnawing in the back of my head. And I'm using this blog as some sort of therapy and today the subject is Punk, or more or less the hypocrisy and arrogance within the scene which has annoyed me for years and added to my severe depression which only made it worse.
A few days before I left Sweden for South Africa a friend of mine told me that some people are "concerned" with me having changed appearance. What the fuck?! Yes I have changed appearance, I don't have spikes or a mohawk(s) in a thousand colours anymore, nor do I wear my studded leather jacket and vegetarian steel capped boots. Why not? First off: Imagine yourself travelling with all that gear, and i'm gonna be on the road for a pretty long time. These past years my has appearance evolved not only resemble my new way of life, but also because it became more comfortable(for an example) wearing sneakers, black loose clothing etc. Makes travelling a hell of a lot easier. I still repair my own clothes, still D.I.Y. as fuck. But the thing is, just because my appearance and my lifestyle has evolved doesn't have to mean that i've become "normal" and have decided that i'm gonna get myself a house, two dogs, a car and a wife in a friendly crime-free neighbourhood(i'm actually doing quite the opposite, getting rid of everything in order to live MY life the way I want to live it, now that's punkrock if anything!). If you, the idiots who are seemingly assuming things behind my back would've come up to me and asked me not only what I was doing, why I went off to the forests for several months, and how I was doing, things would've been so much better, wouldn't it?
That's the problem with the scene today. As soon as someone sticks out or changes a wee bit, we assume and turn to gossip behind that person's back, or even spit at her/him. I did that myself when I was younger, always hated when people changed, since I thought punkrock was leather, studs, spikes, steel capped boots and a huge record collection. But it isn't. It's way more than that.
I find it quite funny that in a scene where we all claim to be free individuals, different in our own world, we are actually clones of one and another. We dress the same as thousands of others in our little "free" world. We think the same, we talk the same, we even fucking walk the same. And as for the rest of society, we're still the same as everything else, only that we're something of a "tribe", our own "secret" society or more precisely, a subculture. We gossip, we lie, we bullshit one another, we spend our time creating drama, we instigate, we drink, we hunt the pussy/the dick, we do drugs, we use money, some of us pay rent, some of us work or live on welfare, we're like some fucking big brother-show, but with thousands of participants. The worst part is, if you do not dress in a certain way, listen to certain bands, wear the right patches etc you have a problem being accepted, and everyone knows about this bullshit, but in the same time we refuse to acknowledge it. We apply the same group pressure we claim to be free of. And then we have the rockstar behaviour: If you play in the right band, or know the right people, everyone will, without question, kiss your ass.
Anyone who are familiar with The Restarts can look up the song "Static", there you have what I feel, and have felt for years. After years of mental decay, depression, friends fading or dying off I've simply decided to take matters into my own hands.

Don't take me wrong here, I love punkrock and the spirit of punk. Punk has kept me alive since I was 12-13 years old. Giving me hope and strength when the world was crashing down all at once around me, several times throughout the years. It has given me reason to go on. It was(and still is) a world for me where I could find other fucked up individuals coming from shattered homes with no hope of a bright future. It was something I could call home. But as the years went by I started seeing all the hypocrisy, the hidden hierarchy which is, unfortunately, a huge part of the scene today. To be honest, I hate it. But I love punkrock and the spirit of punk, always have, always will. I'm not leaving the scene, I am, as I mentioned above, evolving into something more. Instead of spending day in and day out complaining about the world, the society and the system, spending my weekends on punkrock gigs getting drunk or fucked up on drugs i'm off to do something. I react to my situation, to my dreams, my fear and my hate towards this society. I'm taking action and that is punk if anything. A slap in the face. I've been slapped in the face by life for 27 years, now i'm slapping back and reclaiming what is rightfully mine: my right to live my life on my terms.

Do I claim to know what punk is? Can I describe it? We all know what punk is, but at the same time we don't. Punk is something similar to Zen(quite an off comparison I know); it's a contradiction. Punk is taking back control of your own life. Punk is purely individual. Punk is life. Punk is hate, love, activism, politics, chaos, rage, tenderness, gutters, trees, squats, open spaces, cities, forests and mountains, it is our planet, the essence of all life. Punk is human. Now that is my interpretation of Punk, each and everyone of us has their own(hopefully) version of what punk really is. It's all up to you. Punk for me is not having the biggest record collection ever, not mohawks or spikes nor studded jackets or steel capped boots. For me that is a label. Although a really neat looking label, but it doesn't really make us free, does it?

Another piece of honesty: About a year ago, a wee bit more, I tried to fuck off from the scene, I was so sick of all the bullshit and the hypocrisy(and the booze and the drugs) that I wanted to say "fuck it" and disappear into the mist. But that didn't work very well, did it? I can't change who I have become, what this world has turned me into, my roots. I am a punk and I can't change that, nor do I want to. A while I even tried to adapt to some aspects of the scene because I felt lonely, imagine that, to feel lonely in a scene which claims to stand together. But I did, people died off or faded away and so did the world around me several times, and I tried to adapt and evolve in order not to feel lonely. But it didn't quite work, just made me feel more and more like an outsider in a world which I saw as my home, and still is. So here I am, saying fuck off to everything except myself. Fuck off to all you hypocrites, all you liars, backstabbers and two-faced cunts. Fuck all you so called rockstars and you fucks who claim themselves to be the perfect punkrocker/squatter/anarchist/activist/hobo. Fuck off to all you fucks who didn't support me when I had my mental breakdown and I didn't want to drink alcohol, you fucks who instead wanted to offer me beer in order to make me feel better(which you didn't, you only wanted a drinking companion and thought you were doing something good since you paid for the beer), fuck all of you who didn't fucking bother to ask how I was doing, why I was doing what i've been doing in order to do what i'm doing right now. Fuck all of you who were just interested in having me to come to shows so I could swag a few beers with you.
And my deepest respect to those of you who have been there, supporting me, understanding me and talked to me and listened to my ramblings about life throughout these past years. Much love to you, you know who you are. Wherever I go, you are there as well.

New years eve 2006/2007