In other news, even my writing, as in my stories are moving forward, though it will probably be some time before I actually bother to update what I have, since I’m also rewriting some of them… a bit.
Also, a pretty ancient story of mine, featuring one of my first characters ever might actually be fit to read in a couple of weeks. It’s very easy to see that Iwrote it when I was a bit younger, and a bit more immature (yes, I’ve actually been more immature than I am nowadays, believe it or not) but I’m still going through it and still tweaking it where I feel it should be tweaked, and poking it into place.

Other than this, expect a completely new take on an old idea of mine, one I’m sure you’ve never heard about, or even bothered asking about, but nonetheless it will be posted…eventually…when I’m not lazy. Or hungry. Or tired. Or upside-down.

On the plus side, this means the dog won’t be wanting any ridiculously long walks at any point, as he made very clear this morning, by refusing to go outside at all. When a dog looks at you with an expression of “Don’t make me, there’s a huge shower out there!” there really isn’t much you can do but give up. He’s not going to let you forget the misery you’ve put him through if you don’t.

In other news, I’ll finally be able to play piano again! A few years ago I gave away my Baby Grand because I didn’t really bother playing it. As the days turned into months, months into years, however, it dawned on me that I really did miss it and oddly enough, my prayers were answered just a couple of days ago when an acquaintance of mine decided that she was getting rid of hers and said that “If you can take it out of here, you can have it”, so of course I said I’d take it.
Now comes the real problem, though… finding strong arms to help me.

When Rowdy was dropped off, he was jumping all over his previous owner, who didn’t seem to react at all, he was marking every single tree, lamppost, stone that he possibly could and, relentlessly pulled at the leash while we were walking towards the apartment. Though we had been assured that he was used to having contact with other dogs, this was clearly an exaggeration, because the moment we met another dog he would immediately try to rush forward and play, while whining loudly. He is eight months of age and has no clue as to how he should act towards other dogs.
Other than these problems, which can be dealt with in time, there was one other quite immense flaw in the man’s caretaking of this poor creature. For those of you with any knowledge of dogs at all, you’ll know that, up to about a year of age, pups are supposed to be fed a certain food, food with various proteins that aren’t in food for adult dogs. Well, apparently Rowdy’s previous owner had no clue about this, and had been feeding him the wrong food constantly.

I could go on and on about all the things that make me want to smash the man’s face in with a rather large, rusty shovel, but I won’t.

I will, however, tell you that we’ve decided to keep the little mutt and see to it that the remainder of his life is lived well. He needs to be trained up, sure, but he’s a clever little thing and he learns at a disturbing pace.
Soon he’ll be a completely different animal than the lost, uncertain soul he was just eight days ago.

When we take him out, it’s almost like trying to control a dog that’s both deaf, blind and just plain stubborn. He pulls at the leash constantly and if I shorten it to point out that he’s supposed to walk beside me, he panics and tried to jump up on me instead.
He constantly jumps on us as well, this ball of energy. I’m attached already and I’d love nothing more than to keep him, but… I don’t know if I’ll be able to work up his confidence enough that he’ll stop acting as if the entire world is out to get him.

I can only wonder why his previous owners haven’t worked with him at least enough that he can walk with a leash without pulling and having his nose attached to the ground, no matter what speed he’s moving at.

I don’t want to give him up, in fact I’m scared to, but I know that, if I want him to become a stable, calm dog, I’ll need help and lots of it.

And I’m nothing if not proud of that!

I hope the few people who might come across this blog and who might, by chance, actually bother to read through my nonsense, take the opportunity to just look around at those they have nearest, the people they care about, the people you love. Give them the time of day, not just once or twice a year, but as often as you can, to just talk and listen to one another.

You never know how many many more days you’ll be able to enjoy their company.

I haven’t posted anything about it before, but I need to get i out of my system: One of my cousins has been in a very unhealthy relationship until quite recently. She’s waved a red danger-flag in the air for a couple of years, but because she didn’t have the courage at the time to break off the relationship, it seemed like most of our relatives had sort of… given up on the situation.
Though I had known about her troubles for a while, she would never speak ill of her boyfriend to me until about two months ago, when she called me, crying, and asked me where I was. At the time I was visiting a good friend of mine to help her with some schoolwork, but at both my friend and cousin have known each other for a good number of years, I suggested she come over as well.
Meeting her at the nearby bus-stop, she immediately hugged me, her entire body shaking, and not because of the cold outside, but because of fear and the constant sobs wracking her entire frame.
Now, there are two things you need to know about my cousin, the first is the fact that she’s hardly ever cried in front of me, and when she has it’s been out of sadness, the second is the fact that she, unlike myself, is a very kind person, timid and sweet. She’s never been in a fight, she’s never had to shout out that something isn’t okay, because she’s lived a somewhat normal life. Unfortunately, because of this, she hasn’t built up that sense of self-confidence that would allow her to just say “This isn’t alright, this isn’t good for me”.
For about an hour, an hour and a half, she sat and cried with my friend and I, not talking much, but to tell me, for the first time, in all honesty, how unhappy she had been and how things had gone up and down constantly over the course of those years. That was probably the first time in many years that I felt she put her trust completely in me and it felt like I was finally part of her life again.
It wasn’t more than two weeks after that, thankfully, that she finally broke off everything, moved out of the house where she was staying with her boyfriend and came to my parents, asking if she could rent out the room in the attic. When I heard it, I almost cried. I was so impossibly proud of her, and I still am as I watch her looking for a new apartment, where she can start over and build up her life rather than spending it catering to the needs of someone who would never reciprocate.
I think everyone knows someone who is on a relationship that they feel isn’t right and I also think that, although you shouldn’t give upon trying to help, you shouldn’t try to force the person in question to break it off. If we try to force a victim away from an abuser, whether it’s physical or psychological abuse, they will cling to the last shreds of hope and naivety that exists in their life rather than accept your opinion right away. The only thing to do is to give help and slowly work with them in a way that they can realise, on their own, that they have to do something about the situation.
As I said, I’m impossibly proud of my cousin for her ability to finally shatter her illusion and start to rebuild herself. We’re hardier than most would imagine.

A hate-story

Now for the negative bit. I realised not more than a couple of days ago how much I dislike some of my relatives. First off you’ll need to know a little bit about my family. My family-tree is huge, I really do mean that. I have cousins all over the place, several aunts and uncles on both my mother and my father’s side. Unfortunately I don’t know much about my father’s parents, but I do know a lot about my mother’s parents… My grandmother on my mother’s side is a hopelessly bitter alcoholic who verbally abuses anyone with close relations to my mother because of her own fixed ideas about how things should be. My father’s parents died when I was little, too little to remember them, actually, my grandfather on my mothers side also died without me having ever even met the man (though from what my mother has told me, he wasn’t someone worth meeting anyway) but my grandmother on my mother’s side is alive and kicking… for better or worse.
Now, it seems like her bitterness has been passed on to another of my cousins, a ma in his late thirties whom I’ve always cherished dearly. My respect for him has plummeted this past year, however. Mostly because of how he manipulates his mother and his younger sister to take care of his son as often as he can (this despite the fact that his sister has a daughter of her own as well as an adopted son from her husband’s previous relationship) and when they don’t comply to his will he will call them disloyal and selfish. Not okay. I don’t have much hope for his girlfriend either, for that matter.

Now, this man has his son a few days every other week, but apparently this is soooooo tiring that he has to pawn the poor kid off on someone else while he and his girlfriend spend “quiet evenings at home” which they obviously can’t do on the weeks that the child isn’t there (go figure).
Somehow this just sickens me.

I could go on and on about this kind of behaviour, but seeing as I’m getting tired, I’ll let you know more as the situation unfolds.

In other news, I might be moving within a few months time and, if I’m lucky enough, I might also get a new job quite soon. This might be a good way of balancing up all the negativity I’ve felt lately.

Well, excuse my ramblings, once again. ‘Til next time.

Though it’s far from finished, this new story had a plot that has kept me amused and, though we’re still working hard at perfecting the characters, we’re getting there.

That’s all from me for now. Will be posting more tomorrow. <3

In todays world it seems this word is thrown around almost as if it might be some new cultural fad. but how can we really define it? Wikipedia defines intolerance as “Intolerance is an antonym to ‘toleration’. The term may refer to one of the following; Medical/biological conditions or social/psychological/political“, but somehow, it seems that anything an be classified as intolerance these days.
Any form of criticism towards anyone, any single person, any religion, any group of people is now referred to as intolerance, even though it may in fact be something as simple as a comment, thrown into the wind just to get it out of one’s system.

Though I myself do not condone fascism, racism or anything of the like, I am not surprised, with the current state my country is in that these issues are brought up, time and time again. Yes, there are neo-nazis in my country, yes there are racists, yes there are fascists, and of course there are people who are on a constant mission to combat these people, whether it be on a political level, or on the streets, but when a man expresses a simple opinion, whether it be verbal, or online, such as I’m doing now, somehow I feel he’s entitled to that opinion. yes, he may have chosen his words somewhat unwisely, but I still feel that he didn’t make such an enormous mistake as the media would like us to believe.

I’m not going to put a link for this article on my blog because I don’t want to draw any unwanted attention to this little “scandal” as some are calling it.

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When we speak of religion, we always seem to focus on two of the largest, or at least two of the loudest in the world, Christianity and Islam. They are both horrifyingly alike one another (and no, by this, I don’t mean that the people who practice these religions are in any way bad, though the people who knock on doors at five in the morning, asking if I’ve found Jesus should be punched in the face) but for some reason, only a handful of those who are faithful believers and followers seem to realise this.
I’ve met my fair share of Muslims, and my fair share of Christians and as far as I’ve been able to tell, the only differences between them are the names for their deity.
I realise that I’m rambling, and yes, I do that a lot, but I really needed to get it out of my head today. Besides, I’m trying to update a little so that, even though I am uncannily boring, at least I can try to seem as if I’m not.

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In other news, the election here in Sweden is nearing and I’m still quite torn. All of the different political parties seem to lie just as much as the next and, though I was quite sure I’d be voting for our Pirate Party, I’m no longer certain if that’s really the best idea. Yes, most of their ideas are ideas I can agree with, but on the whole, it seems like the party itself had been hijacked by right-wing idiots who have only half a brain and can’t even use the normal ten percent of it.
A negative outlook on this election for me, at least, I can only hope that, if not else, our nation will once again fall out of the hands of the right-wing government. I do so hate conservative fools who would rather sacrifice progress for tradition.

That’s all for me this time. Have a good one! <3