fortaptrose

Gidder egentlig ikke å skrive noe annet enn at jeg er feit og lei. Legger med alt av musikk jeg hører på.

med tanke på at jeg slettet facebooken min, og ENKELTE aldri er på skype, så trenger jeg en måte å kommunisere på, med tanke på at jeg har vært syk i en uke.

Walah.

Derfor skal jeg begynne å blogge igjen-- bare ikke i dag.

1. Du kan faktisk bruke så høye heler som mulig
2. Du kan få folk til å tro på alt 
3. Folk tror du er en dronning automatisk.

... Og det er det.

-Merethe

ps. Hvis du skal bruke band t-skjorter; HØR PÅ SANGENE DERES FØRST. Takk for meg.

JEG KJEDER MEG!

1. Girl- Her first name is begins with A, and it is not popular but not made-up. Her first middle name is your middle name, and her second middle name is a usable variation of one of your pets names (if you've never had a pet, name her after someone elses) : Aurora Ronja Olsen? Hahha, fyfaen.

2. Girl- Her first name is from Greek Mythology, however it cannot start with the letter A. Her first middle name is your mothers middle name, and her second middle name is your favourite guilty pleasure. Athene Marianne Alfhild Olsen? Fyfaen. Stakkars barn

3. Boy- His first name is that of your first crush, his first middle name is after your husband or boyfriend (if you don't have one, use your grandfather) and his second middle name is after your father. Jeg crushet noe sykt på en som het Olav i første klasse? Da er nok det min første crush. Å faen. Olav Peder Ole-Morten Olsen? Fytti.

4. Son- His first name is five syllables long, but it can not have the letters "Z" or "B". His first middle name is usually a last name, and his second middle name is very old fashioned. Jeg synes synd på barna mine; Sebastian Cole ARCHIBALD Olsen. Woho

5. Son- His first name is something from a Shakespeare play, his first middle name is a virtue name, and his second middle name is after your favourite actor or author (specify who it is). Romeo hakkepeil Nicholas (spark) Olsen?

6. Daughter- Her first name is either Molly, Maisy, Daisy or Lucy. Her first middle name is after a book character (it cannot be from Twilight) and her second middle name is nature themed. Molly Emma Rose Olsen. Hennes var litt søtt:)

7. Daughter- Her first name is your one of your favourite girls names, only with a different spelling (this spelling must still be pronouncable, and nothing very ridiculous. Her first middle name is a virtue name, and her second middle name is Shakespearian, however it can not be Juliet, Olivia, or Viola.  Moana hakkepeil Rosaline Olsen? Nah.

8. Son- His first name is after a very famous author, his first middle name is after one of your closest male friends, and his second middle name is a family name. William Aadne Ole Olsen? Æsjameg

9. Daughter- Her first name is after your mother, her first middle name is nature-related, however it cannot be a flower, and her second middle name is unisex. Marianne Oak Ashley Olsen? Hahah fyfaen

10. Daughter- Her first name is a variation or your name, her first middle name is after someone you really don't like, and her second middle name is after your grandmother. Merete Anna Aud Olsen?

-Merethe

HOLA. Nei, vettu hva. Nå skal jeg poste andre del av den fantastiske Jeg tuller ikke en gang; det virker som en inkompetent, liten wierdo har tatt av, og prøver å etterligne enhver chiclit-dame. FYI, jeg trodde at det var noe av det beste jeg hadde skrevet sånn.. noen sinne i September. Men siden dere elsker meg og sånn.. FORTSETTER JEG!

It won?t be long,

Roselyn
Even though she thought that she would be late, Grace was still not finished when she arrived. "Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry!". That was a line Roselyn knew by heart, and as she turned around; she spotted Grace. Her face was red from running, and had an apologetic look on her face. Roselyn had to smile; this was too typical Grace. She gave her a hug, and smiled "Grace, it's okey! We just need to walk a little faster than usual; Ashley said it was important- though Ashley says everything is important... Never mind, let's just walk normally" 
"Roselyn? Is everything alright?" Grace had one of her 'worried-mother' looks, which made Roselyn roll her eyes every time. 
"Yes? What the matter?" 
"You're talking really fast, you only talk fast like that when you're stressed. So what is it?" 
Roselyn eyes went down to the ground, as if she admired the grayness of the asphalt. After 'him', she felt like she couldn't talk to her without feeling a little uncomfortable. "Nothing, let's just walk further; we're late anyway," she said, and as she took her friends arm, and was supposed to walk a long the road, but something happened; and felt herself falling down. In few seconds, she prepared herself for hitting the ground; but instead she felt something steady holding her. She looked up, and saw a pair of friendly, blue eyes look at her in wonder. "Oh, g od! I'm so sorry!" she blushed--or at least; she was sure she blushed. The eyes' owner smiled, "No problem! Don't worry, I was just thinking that no girl ever fell for me; and you just proved me wrong! 'Thank you' is more precise to say in this situation.? She had to smile as well, and when their eyes met (as cliché as it might sound), it was like a spark appeared from nowhere. She soon realized that she still was in his arms, and a few seconds later, she (even though she wanted to stay there forever) got out of his arms. She glanced at him again; he was rather tall, had brown, untidy hair and a well-built body; the first word that came to her was 'handsome'. He was still smiling, when he gave her his hand; "Matthew", she smiled back; "Roselyn". They stood there for a little while, ignoring the world that surrounded them, but they both returned to reality after a couple of seconds. "Well, I was supposed to be meeting a friend, so I better get going! But here's my number," he wrote something down on a piece of paper, gave it to her and then blinked at her. Her head span around; what had just happened? 

Grace 
"Roselyn, you're blushing!", this was quite unusual for her outgoing, witty friend. "I am?" she sounded like she was shocked in some way, which really was surprising. "Roselyn, what happened? Do you know him? WHY HAVEN'T YOU TOLD ME?" Grace knew perfectly well that she didn't, but still; Roselyn usually talked to pretty much anyone she saw (even a deaf person, but that's an entirely different story). In the same dreamy voice, she said; "what?". Grace rolled her eyes at her, and started walking. "Honestly, I can't remember the last time you were that lost when you were talking to a guy- or apart from that guy when you were about 13 or something- you were almost like me and..." she stopped, she couldn't even finish a sentence anymore? What did he do to her? She bit her lip, trying not to think about it. She was over him now, or was she? "Yes, she was", she thought as they walked along the road, to the little cafe they planned to meet Ashley. They were almost there, when she noticed that Roselyn stopped. She had the same blushing appearance like when she met that guy, "Roselyn, it's not my fault that we're getting late today! I'm so telling Ashley,". She expected something like; "Yeah, well I'm not a child am I? I'm actually older than both of you, by more than four months", but instead she said something that she couldn't really hear, but she took as a "SHUTUPGRACEITSHIM,"-- it was one of the things that Roselyn"said" the most during their teenage years. She turned around to find the same man approach them. "oh my god, he is very very handsome, but he looks familiar... where have I seen him before?" His eyes were commonly blue, almost like a sunny day. Roselyn made a weird sound; was she really giggling? "Hi! Are you stalking me or something?" Grace rolled her eyes again, and as they had a conversation she didn't even care to listen to, her eyes focused on a man in the mass of people passing her. "Jack?" she breathed. The man she once had shared everything with, came across the street-- to them. "HOW DOES HE EVEN DARE?" she thought, and felt someones hand holding her own. "Hi, Jack!" the man with the blue eyes, apparently knew him. She finally dared to look up at Roselyn, who looked infuriated. It seemed as she was supposed to say something, but the man said; "Hi, this is Jack-- Jack this is Roselyn and....." "Grace" he finished his sentence, but avoided her as much as she avoided him. The man looked surprised, but didn't ask any questions. "Hey, guys! You're late," It was Ashley's voice. It was starting to get blurry, and the next thing she knew; she walked with both Roselyn and Ashley back to the cafe, with a strange numbness in her fingers. 

Kimberly 
"Who the hell are you?" The man standing in the door was certainly not Jonathan; he was the opposite of Jonathan. Really; Jon's hair was always perfectly combed, and blonde. This man?s hair was a mess, and brown. Jonathan was always perfectly dressed, often in suits. This man wore a shirt and pants (probably something he had owned forever), but of course; he was not ugly-- pretty hot, actually. He grinned, and put a bag down on the floor, "Well, yeah... Jonathan hasn't told you, has he?" She felt a rage boil inside her, how could he even think that Jonathan would keep anything from her? He LOVED her. "No, he has not," she said, and as his grin kept getting bigger each second, she noticed that it was something familiar with him. "No need to be grumpy, miss. I'm Matthew, Jonathan's brother.?  Brother? Jonathan never mentioned his brother? She met his parents ONCE, and that was just a couple of minutes (and not a couple of pleasant minutes). "ALBERIC! Come up! It's safe" he shouted to the elevator. She was even more confused, and he most have noticed, since he added; "Well, another surprise for you; he has two brothers; Alberic and myself," His eyes was sparkling, like light blue diamonds, and she automatically tried to fix herself a bit (but she already looked amazing, so what did it even matter?). "Hey, no one has ever called me Alberic since I was christened,23 years ago!" she noticed a tall man with light brown hair, and the same eyes as Matt (Matthew, Mark or Marcus? Who cares, he was too hot for her to care, anyway), and yeah.. As Jonathan as well. "How do I know that you're not some crazy stalkers or something?" They looked at each other, rolling their eyes at the same time. "Sorry miss, but we're sadly not stalkers; would you let us in now?" That Albert or Allie-guy said, and looked at her with a confident smile. She grinned, and let them in; she might as well have a little fun?

Ashley 
Ashley continued to stir in her tea, when the girls, awkwardly, sat quietly at the cafe-- not saying a word. This most have been the first time any of them ever had seen her not being able to say something at all. "That son of a bitch," Roselyn finally broke the awkward silence (as usual), her face turned red as she said; «honestly how COULD he?" Grace looked down in her coffee as if it was the most interesting object in the world, and she noticed herself doing the same thing with her tea. "You guys, let's listen to some music,". Ashley looked at both Roselyn and Grace; this could end very badly-- they both shared that horrible taste in music. As Roselyn took her ipod up, getting ready to play whatever song she was going to "play" (most likely sing), her phone rang "oh my god, I love you, Edwin" she thought, and got away from the singing couple at their table. She almost said "hello", but someone pumped into her, and she saw her precious phone fall down, and break into several black pieces. "OH FUCK! Nonononononono!" she tried to fix it back together, but of course: that didn't work out very well. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she heard a melodic voice talk to her. "You better be, this was my third phone this YEAR... Oh my god," she said, and glanced up at her phone-killer. It didn't take long before she had to look down again. He was gorgeous. "I'm truly sorry, well.. the least I can do is giving you some kind of replacement," she stood up when he said that, and looked at him once more. His blue eyes shined of sadness. "No, honestly, that's okey. You know; perhaps four is my lucky number?" she said, and he laughed a little. "Well, to be honest with you. Phones are just waste of time anyway. I hate them, so perhaps it was just lucky for you that you met me," he blinked at her after he said so. She noticed a sudden heath absorbing her; why? She had talked to attractive guys before, hasn?t she?  Was he flirting with her? "Well, at least; here's my number. If you ever want a phone of course,". He walked away, and she smiled. "Maybe there's a hope for me too?" she thought, and danced back to their table. Grace and Roselyn could play what ever they wanted now. 

-MERETHEEE

Hei! Og nei... Jeg ga kun Roselyn musikksmaken min og øynene mine. Utseendemessig ligner hun mer på moren min...  i hodet mitt i det minste. Og pff. Jeg er ikke så svak?  Jeg tror "Grace" er inspirert av meg..  Hun minner meg mer om et mess, snarere enn Roselyn.  

Dette er en mørkere ting jeg skrev for to måneder siden ca. Jeg liker den ganske godt, men for all del; det kan være at den er beyond elendig.  ehehe, leste igjennom den igjen; dene r virkelig elendig.

Syng søtt, Nattergal.

Hun krøp seg opp i et hjørne for å rense sårene sine. Sårene, der blodet fosset fra alle kanter. Dog hadde blødningen blitt bedre, men tårene var ikke å komme bort i fra; de forfulgte henne for hvert skritt hun tok, og uansett om hun hadde spurtet i en evighet, hjemsøkte de henne, som et spøkelse som verket etter hevn.
 Hun var en krigsskadet kvinne, med u-merkbare sår som pinte henne innenfra og ut. Hun var en kriger, men uten spor av arr. Hun tørket tårene sine, før hun reiste seg opp fra kroken sin, og dro seg mot speilet som stod midt i rommet. Et mørkt hode med myke, brune øyne smilte tilbake til henne; hun virket lykkelig, for det var som om øynene hennes smilte mot verden. Hun trakk et siste åndedrag, før hun bega seg ut på det neste slaget. For hun hadde kanskje vunnet utallige slag, men krigen var langt i fra omme.

Nattergalen gjorde seg klar for sin siste sang; ikke det at det var så mange som ville ense det, for de tok det som en selvfølge at hun hver dag gledet dem med de vakre tonene sine. Hun var langt i fra mett av dager, men hun var utmattet av å måtte prøve å overdøve kråkene, som ikke levde langt unna. Det var en vakker dag; solen skinte, men den ga ingen varme lenger; ingen glede. Nattergalen sukket, før den strakte ut vingene, og fløy ut på sin siste tokt.

Kvinnen trakk jakken rundt seg, før hun subbet bortover gaten. De alt for høye helene holdt henne noen centimeter over alle andre, men samtidig var det som om hun var under dem; en slags tjener som ingen noterte seg. Kvinnen stelte seg mot en mur belagt vegg, før mennene kom glisende mot henne. De var alle sortkledde, med en mine som ikke kunne tolkes som noe annet enn: «hat». 

Hun fløy over skog og hei, og sang på sitt høyeste. «Hennes siste forestilling skulle ikke bli skuffende,» tenkte hun, mens hun danset seg gjennom vinden.  Piruett på piruett tok Nattergalen, før hun fikk øye på en kvartet av sorte fugler som fløy mot henne i en veldig fart. Kråkene skrek seg gjennom luften, og det varte ikke lenge før de stelte seg ved siden av henne. De dyttet henne fra en side til en annen, slik at hun strevde med å holde seg oppreist. Kråkenes skrik, uten mål og mening, tilintetgjorde nattergalens melodi, og da regnet plutselig kom over dem, gjorde det ende på kråkenes hyl. Nattergalen ble stående alene, mens hun vimset fra side til side. Et skudd ble avfyrt, og sakte, men sikkert, dalte nattergalen ned i en evig dans.

Folket undret seg over hvorfor nattergalen ikke hadde sunget så vakkert for dem dagen før. Kanskje det var den fryktelige stormen som kom midt på dagen? Kanskje det var de forferdelige skuddene som hørstest midt på dagen? Nei, de fant det ikke ut: «det gir jo ikke mening!» sa de mellom seg, før de fortsatte sine hverdagslige gjøremål. I den travle hverdagen sin, la de ikke merke til en vakker, ung dame som lå sammenkrøpet i et hjørne. Håret var sort som ibenholt, og øynene milde og brune. Det så ut som om hun smilte til verden. Hun hadde nydelig, elfenbenshvit hud, men det folk ikke visste, var at den bak fasaden, var arrete og kassabel. Hun hadde fått to nye arr dagen i forveien; det ene var ikke synlig for det blotte øyet, men det andre hadde laget et hull i kroppen hennes. Kroppen hennes, som aldri mer ville synge, og hvis de hadde sett ekstra godt etter, hadde de sett nattergalen ligge sovende i hånden hennes, og den --den vil aldri synge mer, den heller.

-Merethe

Hei! Jeg tror få av dere vet dette om meg, men jeg skriver quite a bit. Og siden egoet og oppmerksomhetsbehovet mitt er overdrevent stort, så skal jeg istedenfor å blogge om de emo tankene mine, POSTE HISTORIENE MINE. 

Denne er en del av... noe som begynner å ligne en roman... som jeg skrev litt av i høst. Jeg synes den er ganske bra skrevet selv . Og siden jeg er azm (egooo), skrev jeg på Engelsk! Woho. Jeg håper virkelig at dere tar dere tiden til å lese den, for jeg .. Som sagt; liker den svæært godt. Og nei; den er ikke spessielt dyp. Ganske overfladisk. Chic-lit. Enjoy. OG JA: JEG LIKER Å GI HOVEDPERSONENE MINE GOD MUSIKK-SMAK.

LESTE DEN NETTOPP IGJEN; DEN SUGER NOE INNI HELVETE. KOS DERE!

I saw him standing there.

Roselyn

Roselyn eyed herself in the mirror, and several times she was sure that she was going to cry. She couldn't believe that anyone could even look at her and not vomit, and how her mother even could call her beautiful, was a mystery to her. Okey, yeah; She had a "pretty" face; heart shaped, high cheekbones, deep, green eyes, rosy cheeks and a red lips, and her wavy, blonde hair was flowing down her back. She felt a tear pressuring to come to the surface, and panicked. "Please, not today! I promised myself not to cry today!" was the thought that rushed into her head, while she ran to her cd's- the only thing that could save her from herself. Perfectly organised, "the only thing that is organised with her," her father used to say. God, how much she missed him. That was perhaps what she missed the most about leaving home; family. She ran her fingers from the 50's music to her more modern indie-rock. Her finger stopped at a beatles-cd; sgt. pepper. She smiled, as she danced around her apartment to "when I'm 64", Grace could wait a few minutes couldn't she? 

Grace 
"nonononono, I most be on time today! Honestly, I haven't been on time since I was eight" Her mind went to Roselyn at that moment. Poor Roselyn, had always been sitting in a chair, waiting for her, in the morning on their way to school. Her attention suddenly changed, "wait, what? WHAT HAPPENED TO MY HAIR?" she noticed that it stood in several directions. She grabbed the comb, and attempted to get her hair to stay calm--- or at least not as fuzzy. As she brushed her hair, he came to her mind. He had always loved her hair, even when it was as fuzzy as it was at the moment. "my little bear", he had called her. She shook her head. She had promised herself not to think of him--the way he kissed her neck, and arms and lips and ... "NO, GRACE. NO!". She had to think of something else, FAST! She grabbed her clock-- to think of the time, had saved her the last couple of weeks, why wouldn't it now? "OH, SH* T!" she cursed (which was unusual for her saint-like personality), and ran out of the door. Nothing had changed. 

Kimberly 
She shouldn't have taken that last drink last night, she shouldn't. She felt like that time, she and Roselyn had taken too many drinks, and she ended up with one of Roselyn black pumps in her ear. Like a circus was doing a show in her head. "Auuuchhh". She really hoped Jonathan would hear her, so he, as usual, would come to pamper her with a latte (non-fat, double) and a chocolate biscuit (non-fat, and preferably two). "og," she groaned, louder this time, but still; no Jonathan. She sat up, pouting, but realized by doing that, that the circus turned into an screaming metal-concert instead, and let her head fall down on the pillow again. The silk felt comforting to her skin, like her own personal spa in her beadroom. That was not a bad idea! Perhaps she could talk to Jonathan about that? She smiled, and pretended to cry (she hadn't cried since she was eight, and Jonathan knew that perfectly well, but he would always come running to her if she pretended). Still no Jonathan. Now she was really irritated! She stood up, ignored the circus and stormed into the bathroom. She was shocked when she saw herself in the mirror. Her eye-makeup was not only on her eyes- but on her entire face as well. "Oh my god" she started to laugh, and rinsed her face, and when her face was free from all the black shit-like spots; she admired her perfectly tanned skin and shining blue eyes. She was really good-looking! She was not classical pretty, but there was something about her; that made her get more attention that the other girls. Even though she sometimes envied Roselyns? beauty- she couldn't even imagine living her life. First of all; Grace. She was a nice girl, but how could a Roselyn even find a friend like that? Her apartment was the size of her bathroom and her hair always frizzy, and second; her horrible taste in music! She had tried, but no- it didn't work, even though Roselyn was partying with her friends and herself (and they, if she could say so herself, were at all the best places. Always), she listened to things that sounded like the noise she had in her head. And another thing; she wouldn't trade the diamond, which was at the size of a small strawberry, she had on her finger. She grinned when she looked at it, but she couldn't admire it for too long, because she heard the doorbell ring, and as she went to get it; she made herself as poorly as she could-- she wanted to give Jonathan the worst guilt in the world for not being here. 

Ashley 

She looked down in her tea, trying to catch her reflection. A pair of green eyes looked back at her. "Where ARE they?" she thought, when she looked at the time, and another thought hit her:"Grace". She shook her head, and smiled a little when she thought of her; Grace had always control, the brightest student in their class and the one who always organised everything, but time was an area that Grace couldn't handle, but she promised to be better with time since.. him. She checked her phone, to make sure they hadn't come in some kind of trouble, but the only missed calls were "Jacob-Edwin-Jacob-Edwin-Jacob...", she deleted them all. Why couldn't they leave her alone? Couldn't they take a HINT? In the beginning, it had been a little fun; getting roses randomly and someone who could drive her wherever she wanted, but now... it was getting a little stalker-ish. She almost threw the phone at the table, but stopped herself; this was her third new phone this year. She sighed and looked down in her tea again. Apart from her eyes, her hair was the second thing she noticed. The hair she used an hour everyday straightening, then she made big waves, that looked a little like her natural hair-type (she had curly hair). She stirred her tea, that made her reflection fade, and she started to think instead. Where should she get a job? No, that was too professional for the weekend. Why couldn't she find a real man? A man who wasn't a complete idiot, with SOME social skills and an average intelligence and looks? Why did she always end up with such losers? Why couldn't she get one like Grace did? Okey, so that hadn't worked out that well... She looked down at her clock again. "Okey, I'm starting to get a little worried, this is certainly like Grace, but NOT Roselyn!". When she had thought that thought, she saw a blonde and brunette walking arm in arm, but ---- no! Trouble!

Jeg så tilbake på bloggen min i dag, og la merke til at jeg har hatt en i snart to år. Altså, to år med nonsens. 

Da jeg startet denne bloggen, hadde jeg et oppmerksomhetsbehov som ikke ble dekket, jeg hatet meg selv og omverdenen. Det er ikke måte på hva som gikk gjennom hodet mitt på den tiden..

Jeg føler at jeg har vokst på en måte... og jeg har en svært stressende hverdag fortiden, noen som gjør livet generelt  vanskelig.

Jeg har en følelse av at jeg må forandre meg.. og det skal jeg... Jeg vil bare ikke dele livet mitt på innternett lenger. Dette er et helt permanent "hadet". Jeg tror jeg kommer til å savne det, men jeg orker ikke dette mer. Vurderer til og med og slette facebook.

hadet bra
-Merethe

I dag er jeg syk, og siden jeg vil blogge, og ikke har blogget om annet enn at jeg er en taper uten kjæreste de siste 3-4 innleggene, skal jeg gjøre no helt nytt. Noe jeg aldri har blogget om. Nemlig; fotoshoooot.

...

Nå har jeg en liten innrømmelse å komme med... For jeg hadde en liten fotoshoot med meg selv (og jeg er klar over at det er like kult som å drikke med seg selv) for to uker siden... Ehm. HERE YOU GO (ps. Beware: jeg ser ut som en dopa ku på 90% bildene)

-Merethe