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MY BEAUTIFUL SOUL

Nowadays millionaires pick up cans and eat bananas out of the garbage

For a few days now my looks, my appearance has been severly critized by the kids I'm faced with everyday at work. Sure I'm used to it, but nowadays the critisizm has been all about my new haircut. I look like [direct quotation] an old lady, or a psycho (and when they say that I feel like Britney during her breakdown).

Some of the kids like the arrow that I shaved at the top of my head behind my ear. Outside of work everyone I meet likes to think of it as an "L", or even worse, "A Lesbian L, The L-Word" and I feel like I have to come up with funny things that start with an "L".


There's this raining season going on here in Sthlm this week and I was on my way home earlier today on the bus listening to a radioshow and staring out the window with the rain pouring down, really romantic and emo, and they had a radioshow on called "Real life".

The topic of today was Can-collectin Kurt. He lived in a run-down house and collected cans all day long until his recent passing, but had approximately 1 million dollars in a bank-account in Luxemburg (stocks, gold ingots', villa's, etc.) but never used a single dime. He was a true genius who in his early teen's simply had way too much expectation on his shoulders, combined with an increasing amount of greedy bastards circulating in his presence. The awesome powers and invisible guidelines of our cruel mankind made this man crash and burn socially, made him into a quiet being who nobody knew up until the day he passed.

In his village everyone laughed at him behind his back. This guy who wore never before washed-sweaters and ate his dinners right out of the garbage.
In real life he was the one laughing at them.
It's sad how people put other people out of order.


I want to rewind a bit, back to the Britney thing; I've got a feeling that I'm the only one who likes Britney The Person, but not Britney Spears - the music. I guess I like the C-c-crazy in people, she seems like a total nutjob and I like it.

"Oh oh, tell me have you seen her,
because I'm so Oh
I can't get her off of my brain
I just want to go
to the party she gon' go

can somebody take me home

Ha Ha He He Ha Ha
..Ho."



I'd like to take a minute and dedicate this song to all of you crazy lezzie's out there in Stockholm, the reason being quite obvious.

I love to hate you, crazy son of a bitches

- without you, Facebook would be nothing.



Chelle Jacq

A LIFE OF LIES

Was it fun being born?


Oh, so you ask. Well do you know how I was born? I was born out of an egg. I was inprisoned for 15 months before I had a chance to see outside of my eggwalls.
You see, after a long and hard struggle against faith, faith finally gave in and brought to me a boy, who had recently run away from home. He later told me that he'd climbed up the same tree on which I was stationed and that he by coincidence had found me. All I knew when I heard that unfamiliar voice right next to me was that who ever this was, he was a schizofrenic. I'd been placed on the thickest branch on the thickest part of the stemme, so I was lucky I guess, although I wasnt that big if you were to compare my egg to the world at large. He sat next to what I had believed for 15 months was the only thing existing, my relm, my prisonwalls, my everything, an egg. For a fact, being king of your own kingdom makes you full of self obsorbing and bitterness. I wanted an answer to what this voice came from, and so I shrieked with my very special voice: "WHO'R U!!". Minutes of silence followed. My pre-life looked like this. After a while of having only myself to talk with, I began to develope different characteristics which I had grown found of. This was something that came natural for me. So he and I were kind of alike. During these silent minutes, I was fire and war, talking aggressivly with my own selves. This was the first time a character I myself hadn't developed, adressed me, and I was scared for the first time in my life. And as you know, with fear, comes anger.

The unfamiliar voice spoke, and this time with intelligence! This ofcourse alluded me.
"- Creatures of the sea think of what we know as being the surface of the water, where water stops existing and air takes its' place, as being 'Space', the mythical and unknown. For creatures living above their space is the same thing which exists outside of the ozon layer, the nothingness that space is, this something that exists but has no end"
This time, there were no afterthoughts. I understood half of what he said. I was not convinced and not at all ready to believe in whatever I'd just heard.
Yet again, I shrieked: "- God? Is that you?".
Since I was very unhappy with what he'd given me thus far, I figured I wanted a word or two with him. "- No I am not God..", he told me. He told me that he was made from flesh and blood, that he was gonna take me to what I believed was his creator. Now, what was this! I felt in awe, of this gesture which was not thought of by me for once, and of this generosity which had never accured to me being something you could actually feel.

I was concieved in a "hospital" by a creature holding what I've later been described as being a "spoon". I jumped outta there with my muscles I'd been developing by stretching for 15 months while talking to my possé. I ran in circles upside down, round and round until a creature with a very redpainted talkhole crossed my path and made me bounce into her very large and soft crash-balls. With a very high pitch she screamed and it almost cost me my hearing. She stared at me. too afraid to move even the slightest of an inch. My argumentative people inside started blabbering again, and we had a very fiery discussion about everything we could see right there and then. I had my eyes on her, cold, angry and with a little bit of a twitch, as we stood for a minute in outside the head-silence. Eventually my people calmed down for a bit and I pointed with a finger towards her head, her brain, as if hearing what she was thinking.
" YOU ARE LYING."






The End.