Wrap-Up

It seems that the two previous post will work as an excellent wrap-up of the first chapter of Suburban Supernova. Accordingly that means that this is a new beginning. With this new beginning a wash-out of all unnecessary distractions and litter has been performed on the spring of creativity that I call my desk. The objects on it has been reduced to the most necessary office/writing equipment, a couple of books, an analog camera, a notepad and something as cheesy as a globe. With these few objects, I believe to have put myself standing on the edge, which could cast me into the realm of minimalism. Though I am a firm believer in the minimalistic way of life, I seem not to have taken the leap into its spartan abyss. I still need a few objects of recreation, inspiration and distraction. My purpose for this blog seems to have faded and I leave myself at a position in which I need to reinvent it or destroy it. No matter I will commence something new, on this page or maybe just in general. My next destination is New York, which means that my next project is doing a semi-plan for that trip. U.S. I look forward to the pleasure of meeting you. Suburban Supernova, see you?

A Brooklyn store front

My Messy Morning Hair-Do

This is how my hair looks when I wake up in the morning.

And photograph it with my webcam.

On my brand new laptop.

Old one's broken.

New one's nice though.

Windows 7 'n' all.

I like technology.

When it's still new.

And functional.

Why does everything break?

New and modern stuff.

That's cause of annoyance.

To me at least.

These days things are only nice when they're new.

Or really old.

That's called vintage.

Vintage is when you've got something old.

Then you justify it, by calling it:

Vintage.

Often though, it's really just old.

Still I like old.

And vintage.

I find it quite nostalgic, I guess.

Nostalgic is a nice word.

The above is what happens when you post-pone studying for your exams.

Clay Pidgeons

We are clay pidgeons, all of us

shot out of guns that do not move

We are clay pidgeons

The people who make us fly

are also the ones who shoot us down

We are all clay pidgeons

send out with dreams of soaring

we all realize that we are not supposed to

Like clay pidgeons

we realize that when we are highest

we will start to go for the low

Are we all clay pidgeons?

Or will some revolt

and create wings

and fly

Y

You

Can I write a poem that rhymes on you?

I guess, because that is what I'll do.

These lines will be forever true,

like you to me, and I to you.

We are one and never two,

come to pass & I'll be blue.

Only this with you, I rue

I do not know you.

You are, who ?

This who

wh i c h

you are

I will

b e,

too

Minimalism

Simple
Beautiful
Uncomplicated
Words

Pure
Direct
Palpable
Words

Meaningful
Fantastic
Unanimous
Words

When
Nothing
But
Words

Words
Are
Better
Words

Inspired by http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hkgFQZWS0zw&feature=player_embedded

Pink tea

Hibi-tea

Almost a day off. Yet still I shall produce.

But I sit, drinking pink tea.
How did that come to be?

Try to set fire to the keyboard the only way I know
by Looking at my fingers, the blue sky and the snow
Borrowed from Regnsky.dk

Listening to the music of a rain cloud on a sunny day
Come today, come what may, come this way

I look for inspiration in what is all around
but My inspiration should not be wasted on words
That are dictated by the government and the danish crown

Tina & Bertel; disciples of the devil, putting shakles on youthful danish minds

Analyze and Interpret!

I'm currently writing a paper. It is a Danish paper. It is a comparative analysis and interpretation of two poems describing the concept of Night. My professors would love for me to say that I'm working in the faculty of humanities, with the hermeneutic spiral as my tool. Lovely, lovely I say.

The assignment tells me that it is of great importance, that I emphasize the modernist and genre specific features in both poems. This genre thingy gets me a bit depressed, because it makes me think of the future of analysis and interpretation. The students to come will be in a great deal of trouble for the World will test them with a new genre. THE BLOG.

Most likely to be considered a relevant form of litterature in a few years future-high schoolers will have the hardest piece of analysis on their hands. Because to solve the mystery will be as hard for future youngsters as it was for ancient greeks to solve the riddles of the sphinx.

The riddles of the sphinx will be considered easy compared to interpreting the meaning of blogs.

Students will be helpless when questioned by the pretending-to-be-smart-teachers ask them, what the "message" or what the "intention" of a post is. Because a blog is really just a runoff for the blogger to spill whatever meaningful/useless soon-to-be-litterature is has bottled up inside.

What I'm trying to say is, that I'm glad I'm up after midnight analyzing poems rather than blogs, because my god is that going to feel like being Sisyphos, though instead of carrying a rock up a hill for all eternity you'll be analyzing something unanalyzable.

So hail to The Blogosphere for supplying work for generations to come.

Riding the rails

A way of living

I wanna be train hopping

I wanna feel the rails under me rocking

I wanna look out at the open

Experience the wilds before they are forever broken

Hoping that when at the end


I will never have passed down what life would send