The ironic part

I always swore revenge on the people that hurt me.
The three years in junior high was hell for me. The reason for living was the thought of the future. The possibility that one day, I would be successful and own the people that hurt me.
Boy, were I wrong…
I always thought that I wanted to be a successful person, and people would look up at me, instead of down, and laughing.
But how do you really define success?
Some would say your career, your bank account, your house, your car.
If so, I’m not successful… I’m the opposite of successful. I’m a mechanic, fully graduated, I would make about 46.200USD or 300.000NOK a year. That’s about the same as any other Norwegian, My bank account is in a poor shape, my house… What house? My car… An old ricer… Ok… So I’m not successful in that sense.
But what about friends? Happiness? Love?
I don’t have many friends, but those I have, I wouldn’t trade them for a Porsche 911 GT3… (Those who know me, knows that that means that I wouldn’t trade them for anything). They are all great. I would dare to go so far that I would place some of my friends in front of my family. I wouldn’t last one day without them.
I’m happy. All though I’m not a CEO, or nor in the sight if being one, I’m genuinely happy. My job is great, my colleagues are great, and I keep waking up with a smile on my face. I don’t party a lot, I really don’t see the meaning of it, its fun, yes. But my experience is that it leaves more destruction then happy memories. I finally enjoy the simple things in life. Like children’s laughter, the purity of a raindrop, the feeling of satisfaction.
And love… Well… most of you know my love situation, it’s sad actually, but It’s complicated, and I don’t want to write about it right now.

This is how you define a person. Not by something you put on a CV, but by knowing them, by understanding them, and their choices, their loved ones.
I hated the people that did me wrong and on behalf of everyone out there who gets picked on, gets left out. I hate them. But I really can’t do anything other then to let it go. Let past be the past, and live my life, to forgive them.

How I would define myself? Well… Ironic… I’m really happy, REALLY happy, but hell… I’m kind of lonely too.

The Truth of My Lies

A part of being a good brother, son, friend, a person, is to realise that by protecting yourself with a lie, you’re simply hurting another person…
I’ve hurt a lot of people, both intentionally and unintentionally. I’ve always believed that by protecting me, I’ve been protecting them too. Not realising that most of them deserved to hear the truth, and if they cared as much for me as I cared for them, they wouldn’t think less of me.

My biggest regrets of telling people, or not telling is:

• I’ve never told anyone about what my parents do for a living. Many got the false impression that they own a restaurant. The truth is, they did. They worked in the restaurant business my whole childhood, as long as I can remember, my mom and dad have been running restaurants and coffee shops. This ceased all suddenly when my dad got two major strokes, due to an ulcer, and had to go under the knife. I remembered the doctors telling me, my brother, my sister, and my mom that it would be a quick surgery. The surgery lasted for several hours. When he was finished, my dad was still sleeping. The doctors encountered some difficulties. But luckily, he was fine. But my dad didn’t wake up. Everyday we went to the hospital to visit him, talking to him in his sleep in hope that he was listening. It took three months before he finally woke up, I remembered my dad as a very strong man, at that time, I was 15 and I could still hang from his one arm. But that time he woke up, he could barely speak one word. I was happy that my dad woke up, but what he didn’t know, was that in the three months he was gone, the bills had been piled up in my mothers lap. With 4months bill, and the shop being closed for all the time, she was forced to close down.
I’m still not telling what they do for a living, you can ask me if you want, but I won’t tell here. All I can say, is that both my mom and dad’s happier than ever, and that’s what matters.

• My very first crush. I was probably 8 or 9, and we lived in Kirkenær, a place near Kongsvinger. There was only one 2. grade class, and everybody was friends. After school we played in a little tree hut behind the school. I remember one time, we played truth or dare. I got the all famous, “who do you have a crush on?” question. I knew the answer right there and then. Linn Jeanette, but I chickened out, I wouldn’t tell. In third grade, we moved to Oslo, and I stayed in touch with the people in my old class. One time, I got this bunch of letters from my old class mates, the letter I remember most, is the one from Linn Jeanette. Saying thing wasn’t so fun there without me around, and that the whole class missed me. I remember the ending of the letter the best. “You know… I had a crush on you.”
I know I was just 8-9 years old, but still, it’s one of the biggest mistakes up to date. Knowing the girl I was in love with, share the feelings I had, was… Joy… Happiness… I can’t really describe it, but at the same time, can anyone describe love? But I couldn’t help feeling pain at the same time. The fact of knowing that she was 150km away. Knowing I’d never going to see her again.

• Destroying a friendship for a girl… The wrong girl. I know that person involved reads my blog, But I don’t think she know the circumstances and how sorry I really feel. I’ve apologised a lot of times, being the great person she is, she’s forgiven me for it, but I don’t think I’ll ever get over it. The story begins in one of my known winter depressions. Lonely as I was, I searched for comfort in a person that would soon be the person who twisted my world…
Everything I did then was my fault. I wanted to everything for this girl, but she just wanted me to crawl for her. When I finally realised what kind of person I’d become, we ended it. This might sound strange, but the time we decided that we couldn’t pursue the “relationship” we had, is one of the times, I can remember of being totally happy and free. I knew she was the wrong girl for me, the fact that I was smiling and in absolute joy, just made the whole “brake up” wonderful. But I knew I screwed up the friendship with that person. I made a personal pact then. My friends would always be there for me, I at least owe them the same. No person will ever come between me and my friends. And again: “I’m really sorry!”

• This blog is getting pretty long, so I’ll finish with this last one; I’ve had two major accidents with cars, where I’ve been behind the wheel. I’ve told people 10 different versions, and I just want to finally tell the truth.
The first is with the family car. There are versions of me sliding into a ditch or someone crashed into me and left. The truth is that I recently chip-tuned the car. Turning 110hp/260nm into 145hp/335nm. I was driving in very high speed on the freeway, on minus 20degree ice roads. I reached about 140kmh when I decided to try to overtake a car on the right lane. This spun the car into major over steer, on the one side, it was a big fence and the other side, it was snow. I thank the car-gods everyday that I went into the snow, who knows what would happen if I’d hit the fence… The most amazing was that I crashed in 140kmh, and only broke a grill.
The other time, is with my own car. Here I’ve been telling stories of me racing a skyline, crappy roads and destroying the front bumper while taking the bumper off for intercooler swap.
The truth of why my car is currently bumperless and got a big intercooler in front is because of me being a freakin’ idiot. It was very wet, but was not raining at all. I’d just been at a Nissan gathering with all the 200sx and their ultimate drifting machines. On the way home, I decided to drift some with my car… the 200’s had about 220bhp in their cars, I had 320bhp… It had to be better to drift with mine, I thought… Well, it did! Until the wet asphalt proved why you should take it easy in the wet. I was drifting up hills, when I made the ultimate rookie mistake of panicking in a drift and releasing the throttle when you shouldn’t. The car spun out of control, and I went straight into the ditch. Wrecking the bumper and one intercooler. Looking back at it, I was really lucky. A few meters further up, there were no ditch, it was mountain. The car could have been wrecked.

I don’t plan to achieve anything by writing this, but I hope people try to put themselves in my situations and understand why I deceived them sometimes, some of the incidences was embarrassing, others was just me, screwing up.

Depressive Love

I’ve got a problem…
I like girls…
No, I’m not gay… But it’s a grammar problem.
I like girls, not girl.

All my life, I’ve had a crush on one girl, and one girl only… But lately, I just haven’t!
I love women, there’s nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice for their scent, their smile, their eyes… But I think it’s something wrong when there’s a bigger focus on girls, rather then girl. If my focus is on one girl, I’ve got no interest in girls, other then that girl.
But I just haven’t.
Recently I’ve been wondering if I’m emotionally dead. I don’t think so, but sometimes, it just feels like it.

It’s not like I’ve don’t have any chance with women… Or at least, I don’t think so. But it like as if I’m unconsciously refusing them. I often know when they flirt with me, but in most cases, I say: “Thank you, good bye”.
Take this for an example. I went to the drug store to buy some stuff, the drug store was totally empty, with three employees inside. Once I enter the store and approach the counter, there was this quiet conversation between two of them, going:
-“psst, psst…”
-“what? You’ll take this customer? Ok!”
-“Shhh!”
This really cute Chinese girl behind the counter helped me out, and we spoke for a while about the logic with me spending 150kr at the doctor to get the prescription to buy some prescription-free drugs for 50kr, while it would cost 180kr to buy it without the prescription… We both laughed while she dealt with the paper-works. There and then, I knew I had a perfect chance to ask her out, or ask her for her phone number… But I just paid up, smiled, and left.

I really don’t know why, but I guess some parts of me knew that she would say no, or she already had a boyfriend or something. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been trying to hard before, and gotten no-where? Either way, not being in love is crushing me. I feel emotionally dead, but at the same time, my life is better then ever.
I’ve got great friends. I don’t get to see them as much as I would like to, but they’re still great. My job is wonderful! My co-workers are great, and fun to work with. I’m au-par with the bills, and money-wise, my car is running great, with no problems, other then the problems it gets me into…
So why this depressive feeling?
How can love be so powerful?

Trough the eyes of the enemy

She was perfect.
-“What’s your name, gorgeous?”
-“I’m not gorgeous, heehee.”
Like I died and went to heaven, her laughter… Oh God, her laughter.
-“Emily.”
-“Oh baloney, Emily. You’re by far gorgeous! You’re like the most beautiful thing I’ve seen to this date.”
Her laughter… More of it. Was this love?
We hung out all the time. Like a couple in love. Reason didn’t exist. What matters were me, and her.
We spent hours and hours under all the apple trees. My family air loom, apples. 10 Acers of it. I hated apples. It reminded me of my father, and what he did to me. She loved it though. As long as she loved it, I loved it. I loved her.
Her first time… I wanted to make it special. To make it count. I told her I loved her. I did. I really did.
She was in pain. I could tell, but she wouldn’t say anything.
-“It’ll be better next time.” I tried to comfort her. But she wouldn’t listen.
That was the last I saw of her. Like all the ones before her. Why did they run from me?
Wasn’t my love enough?
I missed her. But she never came back.
I didn’t hear from her. Until two years ago. I can’t believe she betrayed me.
I didn’t care if she was 11.

For the record, I’m not writing a real life story. I was just watching “Brat Camp” on TV, where kids got sent to this Camp because of their misbehaviour. One of the girls there was 17, and really self-destructive, and almost tore apart her family. On this camp, she admits she got raped by a family friend when she was just a child.
If you kill a person, you’ll probably be thrown in jail for the rest of your life.
If you destroy the childhood of several kids, and permanently destroy their perception to the world. You’ll get 4 months to 5 years.

Welcome to real life.

I blame Hollywood
I blame The O.C., The Office, Futurama and Scrubs.
The good guy always gets the girl at the end. The easygoing and descent guy always gets the girl…

No… That’s just not real life. What I’ve learnt with my entire passiveness, niceness and all that crap is that girls don’t fall for that. Therefore, I blame Hollywood… For giving us Seths, Jim, Fry and JD’s the hope that someday, the beautiful girl will fall for you, and nothings can stop you. Yeah… And pigs can dance.
Guys… Take my word for it. It doesn’t work.

Now… Let me tell you what to do…

Use pickup lines girls say they hate.
If they’re drunk enough, they’ll like it.
Prioritize any other thing before her.
Obviously, they like it.
Ignore her.
Oh Christ, that’s like relationship glue.

I really do think I’m girl-kryptonite… Every time I see a girl with her boyfriend. Once she sees me, she cuddles up in her boyfriend’s arms and starts to cuddle. What the hell? It’s like she’s thinking: “Oh God, I’m glad I’m with you and not that looser…” Yeeaaah… So I make girls run to other guys…
Hey… I’ve got an idea… Guys: I’m for hire! For 49.99$ an hour, I can make girls run to you!

Oh... I found out who the girl at work looks like! Mischa Barton. And I'm not kidding! Jeesus.