I want a fresh start and this blog is just like the rest, too big of a mental luggage. I’m always trying to keep the blog clean and only write about cool stuff, I however always fail and start writing about my personal life as soon as I get a little bit melancholic. So I decided to start a new project, again, try it a little harder this time.

What is love?

You can say I’ve loved every single person that I’ve liked and had a crush on, at least at that point of time. Or maybe you can say I haven’t loved at all.

I am now preparing to dive into the bottomless hole of the definition of love.

Some of them were people I loved but wasn’t in love with.

Some of them were people I’ve had a crush on.

Some of them just happened to be at hand when I was the subject of sudden desire.

In the movies, eternal love is often portrayed as I-love-you-so-much-i’d-take-a-bullet-for-you. It’s all about suffering for someone, sacrificing.

Some say you get butterflies in your tummy. Those freaking “butterflies” is a sign of anxiety and that ain’t cute. At all. I once forgot about my own name when I was about to introduce to my soon-to-be-boyfriend, now ex. That wasn’t because some silly lightning thunder struck me. I was just being and awkward.

I remember a Chinese boy in the same after school group when I was 7 maybe, I had a crush on him. Note that that was before I realized Chinese boys are rubbish. He taught me how to play football. Maybe that was love but most likely the infinite happiness and gratefulness I felt because _someone_ wanted to play with a dork like me.

After him, I’ve had crushes lots of people from the internet I’ve never met, people near me I didn’t dare to get to know, Ron in Harry Potter, mean boys in my class, Legolas and lots of other boys that crossed my path. That boy turned quite ugly after a few years when I met him in a random situation, he didn’t remember me.

I guess that every time you you fall in love with someone, you’re reborn and that counts as your first love, it’s always the present that feels most real isn’t it?

My first love must be my love for my mother. Before I turned 10, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep my life going without her, I wouldn’t want to. At that time, I was a part of my mother, everything she told me was true and she was the kindest person I knew. At that time, I wasn’t critical at all.

I secretly went through the procedure of my own suicide in my head countless of times. I decided that the easiest and most smooth way would be by hanging myself, the little I knew only dumb people would chose hanging. It’s heart-breaking just by remembering how much I loved her and how naive I was. It’s also sad the way it turned out, the contrasts. Today, I stay critical and careful to what she says but also what I say to her, I’ve got serious trust-issues but who can blame me?

I thought that was the way of showing love, being willing to give up your life for someone. Hah.

Right now I love my boyfriend, he’s amazing and I feel that this time it’s intense, it feels different. But I guess you can’t really compare. What I consider love today might not appeal to future references but right now, this is love for me. I love him because he loves me. I love him because he makes me become a better person. I love him because he takes care of me and makes me feel happy, alive and good. So after all, love is not unlimited sacrifice for someone else, it’s all about me me and me?

Love is not an one-way event, you always get something back. It’s not always love in return but there’s always something in it for you. Sacrifices brings you empathy, a sense of heroism and unselfishness. So at the end, those are stuff that make you feel good about yourself.

Now I’ve written a great amount of decent crap. Great. My super power is the ability of losing the thread and going off-topic, nuff said.

No matter how much confusion, betrayal and stuff I’ve been through, every realization and heartbreak makes me stronger and takes me one step closer to reality. Whatever that is. Reality might be someone really cynic and ugly, but that doesn’t have to do with what we’re talking about now.

I just want to say, I love my boyfriend even though he’s a nutcase. He is what’s love for me right now, that is my truth and my present.

But after all.

What is love?

Totalt glömt bort varför de inte ville ha mitt blod förra gången. Lågt blodvärde. Totalt bortglömt.

Jag duger fortfarande inte. De där Swedish Grace-kopparna hade jag nästan i handen, så nära men ändå så långt bort.

I’m a girl, my favorite color is blue, my favorite fonts are helvetica Neu Ultra Light, Arial black and Green pillowww, my favorite animal is polecat, I went Mac and will never go back, my most important possession is a soft toy called the Lamb, my favorite drink is Mojito in different shapes, I love those star-shaped potato crisps, I’m a bit pedantic, I’ve always wanted a Jack Russell, I’m an occasional heavy drinker, I’m addicted to facebook, I use to curve my pinky finger when holding glasses and cups, I love pink pions. I hate butterflies and fish, in fact I’m deadly scared of both, I’m allergic to mosquitoes, my trip to Tunisia was the worst in my life, I’m a fillet-eater, I despise communism, I hate Winnerbäck.

And now, after the intense informationflow, here’s a story about the ground this amazing human being (me) is build on.

I’m Swedish, my parents Hong Kongese. Some people might call me a traitor, saying I’m abandoning my origin, my culture and my parents. That’s not the truth, not my truth. According to me, it doesn’t matter what colour your skin in, it doesn’t even matter that you’ve spent half your life outside the country you refer to as “home”.

It’s what’s in your head that really matters.

Sometimes, it makes me frustrated and upset when people force me to agree that I’m not Swedish (often in a rather insulting way) as well as when someone allocate me the label “Chinese”. My mom tells me that I shouldn’t pretend I’m someone else because your appearance is something you can’t wash away. She teaches me that I should know my spot in life and keep myself within that spot.

Well.

You’re all wrong.

Only I can decide and define who I am.

I might have been in a long, harsh identity crises for 18 years due to misdirected upbringing, cultural confusions and a constant frustration my parents sowed in me long ago.

But I’ve found myself now.

A few years back, I suddenly realized I’m not an alien. I stopped explaining and excusing my origin to other people, I stopped feeling bad for who I am. After the first step of awakening, everything started to come clear. I understood that I’ve been denying how Swedish I am. My valuations, my copia, my behaviour were nothing different from other Swedes. I could finally come clean, step out from the shitty closet and call myself Swede. Sorry mom, it’s not my fault that your country sucks, your people are disrespectful, greedy and lacks all kinds of critical thinking. And by the way, thanks for the upbringing that totally screwed me up. The philosophy I’ve learned from you left me lonely, vulnerable and totally awkward. The demands you made made me fall to the bottom with a cracked self-confidence. The gruel I had to go through every breakfast till the age of 6 scarred me for life, just mentioning the word “gruel” and the immediate taste the sickly thick, starchy taste is back in my throat. Thanks, I’ll never be able to touch that shit ever again.

China is developing, but not on the inside. No matter how many skyscrapers and brands have established and settled in the big cities, your core is still rotten, the core values of the people aren’t good enough. They’ve got a long way to go but right now, I can’t identify myself with an ethnic group that doesn’t share my valuations.

Enough with the criticism.

My first ultimate U-turn was at the beginning of upper secondary. Remember that my past way of doing stuff left me with nothing but a big slack of insecurity, the most evident sign was that I had no friends. On the first day at school, I decided that this was my chance to work on something new starting from scratch. I mean, hey, did I have anything to lose? The first two months was like returning to civilization and I had to learn to adapt to a world I’ve never seen but in fact always been there. At the end of school, I had myself a decent bunch of friends that were constantly adding up. I finally got the chance to taste the sweetness of life. By the way, the new school was called International College and had more English in the education than I could handle at that time. My lack of self confident didn’t only leave me with no friends but also the insecurity of speaking in public, when I started studying at International College, I couldn’t even handle a simple conversation. Reading and writing was something I could force myself to learn but the speaking was hard. There was a lot of pretending at that time, both with those I considered friends and that time and certain moments at school. It’s not that I lied to my new friends, I just pretended I was a confident person who was more cool and knew more about stuff than I actually was. I was shaking on the inside.

And then I went to Shanghai with my now closest friend Josie, bearing the dream of the greener grass on the other side; and it sure was. My veins filled with hopes, desire, life, I discovered that life could be amazing. The day we took off is something I will always remember very well. Most people would’ve been afraid and worried about the new life in a new world, some might also feel a heavy dose of sorrow in their hears for leaving beloved ones and their now disappearing comfort zone.

All I felt was hope, excitement and relief.

I knew that I, for the first time in my life, got to chose my own path and also take the consequences of it. I was no longer just a piece in the game called my mother’s life. This might seem harsh but a necessary in the process of making my mother accept me as an individual, not a part of her.

Life begun.

What happened in Shanghai deserves a book dedicated to the memories we had. Or I might just keep them to myself.

Sometime during my second year at upper secondary. I realized I wanted to work with advertising. I’ve always like arts even though my mom has repeatedly convinced me that I was no good. Since the day I realized I liked advertising, I’ve aimed for that. Even though I spent 2 years in Shanghai and Australia, I’ve been preparing for that mentally. I’ve also gotten myself a better understanding of the business, the market and involved myself in the new ways of thinking.

After 5 years of preparations, I was finally ready and got accepted to a school in Gothenburg, styding Advertising and Marketing. My hard work finally paid off.

Until today, my parents still don’t appreciate nor understand my choice of path. They think I’m wasting my time on a childish dream, they tell me to get real. There might be some really successful people doing economics and medicine among people you know but that’s not me. Forcing me to do something I can’t identify myself with would kill me. And honestly, most of the Chinese kids I know don’t really like or know what they are doing. The problem is that they don’t even know what they want out of life.

I’m glad I am not them.

I don’t need you to understand the big perspective now. I know that time will prove you wrong.

My journey has been mainly mental even though I have changed to countless of locations for the past 3 years. I’ve not only found myself, I’ve also found confidence, critical thinking and lots of great, inspiring people along the road.

Right now, I’m preparing for changes that will apply to my near future. That might involve a change of geographical location for a certain time.

I’m not worried, life is full of surprises.

And life starts at the end of your comfort zone.

Just nu är jag uttråkad. Och har dessutom laktosont i magen.

Oh Friday.

Jag lever vidare på www.newbornunicorn.tumblr.com medan jag är här.

Anledning?

Ingen

Hon tittar på mig med stora blöta ögon och berättar om vad som hänt. Sen putar hon med underläppen och ser förkrossad ut. Efter detta går hon in på toaletten.. följade utspelar sig.

- Älskling, är du full?

- Ne, säger hon och putar med underläppen igen.

- Du är full.

- Hur mycket drack du?

- 10 drinkar

Sen går hon in i dushen, putar med underläppen och svajar lite medans vattnet sköljer över henne. Jag borstar tänderna och går tillbaka in i sovrummet.

10 minuter senare kommer hon in till mig och vill ha knäckebröd, nattens s.k fyllekäk. Jag fixar två knäckemackor med ost.

Sen vill hon prompt titta på Entourage, en serie som vi precis börjat följa.

- Nej älskling vi ska sova.

- Ne, jag vill se Entourage.

- Nej, sova.

- Ne! *mumlar något oförståeligt*

Jag går bort och hämtar den externa hårddisken där serien finns, släcker i taket och går och lägger sig.

Jeanette kommer och lägger sig brevid mig, försöker ha fyllesex men åtkomsten nekas.

Hon lägger sig sedan på sidan börjar kvida om att jag är elak och dålig.

Jag har precis packat hennes grejer, matat henne med knäckebröd samt nekat henne Entourage och åtkomst. Det gör mig till en dålig människa.

Fast innerst inne ler jag, för 4 timmar senare skall vi utrymma lokalen och jag kommer inte vara bakis!

Om Jeanette hade varit nykter hade hon suckat högt och sagt: Fuck My Life.

Livet hänger dock på en skör tråd för Nils, han gjorde nyss en Tucker Max i toan.

Den är totally clogged, håller fortfarande på och funderar över hur jag ska förklara situationen för sstäderskan.

Jag skulle just bjuda på läskande mojitos, insåg att jag lade i kopiösa mängdet salt istället för socker. Jävla kryddlådor. Jag gjorde många. Jävla dumjag.

Smakar som havet.

Det som stör mig mest nu är att jag planerat och gjort ut ett grafiskt tryck under ett litet tag, laddad inför att ladda upp det. Missuppfattar deadline och skickar in bidragshelvetet en timme för sent. Fyfan. Att skicka ett förklaringsmail går ju fan inte för gmail vill inte funka.

Jag går och skjuter mig nu så hörs vi imorn, okej?