•November 9, 2013 • 1 Comment

We all die at some point. What really matters is what we do and experience before that. If I died tomorrow, a week from now, a year from now or at some point in the future, what difference would it make how? Maybe I’d die in an accident, get run over by a bus, or die from disease, or get shot. Those last moments would probably be painful, but they’d hardly be the part of my life that mattered. The parts that matter would be everything I went through before that. 

What happens after someone’s dying does tell a story however. When my grandfather died, I was one of the people to carry his coffin and lower it down to the grave. As I was told, tradition dictated the order of the people carrying it, the closest people being on the front side. I was second on the list, right after his son or my uncle. After that it was my father and the father of my cousin, and on the back row the priest or whoever was in charge of the ceremony and an obligatory male of the “audience”.

So what I can extrapolate from that is, I was the second-closest man to him, and there was no contest over the next positions either. And what did I know about him? I thought he was an obnoxious old man who yelled at us for every sound we made as kids, and pretty much ruined the only Christmas I remember we spent there with that. For all my childhood I was afraid of him, and was only glad if he decided not to be around the house when we were visiting.

I don’t really care how I die, because that part of life lasts only a moment compared to the rest of it. I don’t really care what happens afterwards, because I won’t be around to see, hear or experience it. But through this chain of thought, what I know is this:

I don’t want to live a life that results in the kind of death and burial my grandfather had.


Illusion Revealed

•October 6, 2013 • Leave a Comment

At some point I thought I was done with this blog. It was based on the thought that I hadn’t felt like writing anything for a while. However, it didn’t mean things had improved by any standard.

During the spring or start of summer, I had quit my band, and also quit my medication. Because of the latter, I started feeling more emotional and open to a wide variety of thoughts and feelings I had suppressed willingly or unknowingly. The former was something I tried not to think too much about. I quit, I gave a reasoned message why and was prepared to move on.

During the summer I did what I do best – kill time with tv-shows and games, trying to live off of social security while looking for a job that I felt like I could handle. Suddenly, it was July and I hadn’t found one and practically started living the idea that I’d spend another summer leeching off the city of Helsinki. Of course this came to bite me in the ass in August as that social security told me to withdraw my student loan meant for the whole year as a way to pay rent, bills and expenses that month. Even though school didn’t start until almost September.

Somewhere between being a nerve-wreck about the upcoming innovation project course worth half the semester and not having any social contact with my previous ‘bandmates’ and other band-related acquaintances, I had a moment of frustration and decided to cut ties to all people of the past I no longer had any business with. It didn’t take much to notice that had meant most, if not all, of the so-called contacts I had in the first place (excluding family and people I have to see frequently at school at the moment, who might be awkward to ‘delete’).

So what changed? Simply put, I no longer thought I was alone around people I sometimes hanged around with if an event took place where I’d participate. I knew I was alone. After removing meaningless ties to those I never saw, never talked with or never did anything with, there were no people left. And as I had imagined, the moment I quit the band, those people fell into the same category.


•March 3, 2013 • Leave a Comment

One thing I always liked about myself when growing up was that I thought I was smart and good at focusing at things. Nowadays I’ve expressed a feeling that I would prefer not to think or focus so much.

I never thought I’d be having this thought: it seems I quite likely have developed some sort of an attention disorder over the years.

I’m always thinking about the next step in anything I do, because I can’t keep my concentration on the thing I’m doing at the moment. I often find myself unable to enjoy a moment because I’m already moving to the next one in my mind.
I can’t really just sit still and do nothing – at home, at school, on a subway, anywhere. I need to have something to do, to read, to keep my mind occupied. The reason I love my smartphone is that it always gives me something to play with. Even if I’ve already checked my Facebook five times in the last 30 minutes, I can still at least see if there’s anything new (usually not) and spend some time and focus by reading through the old posts.
It feels very hard to stop and get to writing a school work because I’m addicted to all the visual and auditory stimulants I can overflow myself with on my computer. Its difficult to work on a project while watching a tv-show in a smaller window, but it seems even harder if there’s nothing else to “do” at the same time as well.

I could probably name half a dozen more reasons for my doubts, but I won’t since it would require me to sit and focus too long – I want to end and publish this post.

Although the root of these symptoms seems to be the anxiety I try to avoid, I think they’ve gotten to living a life of their own in my mind now, regardless if there’s any anxiety to avoid or not.

Life inside a Fish Tank

•March 3, 2013 • Leave a Comment



That’s the view from my windows. Without the bottom-curtain you’d see more windows and also, the yard in which people can walk parallel to my apartment. I feel like its justified to be paranoid in a place that could make even a sane person paranoid. Or at least make him/her very conscious that if someone wanted to, they could entertain themselves by watching a nervous version of Big Brother starring only one person.

Without becoming a Conservative

•March 2, 2013 • Leave a Comment

What’s the easiest way to lose some intelligence? On the off-chance that becoming dumber would maybe make me easier to become happy. I’m already on meds that take off some of the edge in my thoughts, but seems it isn’t quite enough to make me not think.


•February 28, 2013 • Leave a Comment

If you interpret the body as also the brain, thus also the mind, it gets even more interesting. At least to me.

The god I try to ignore

•February 22, 2013 • Leave a Comment

Since I started posting again, maybe it’s better to write this down as well.

Whenever I do something I worry about something that can be split into three categories: should I feel bad about doing this to myself,  should I feel bad for the other person and should I act perfect in front of the invisible third person. The two first thought are at least somewhat reasonable,  while the third one is a purely theoretical, anxious thought that has no meat around its bones.

The latest thing I’ve learned is to recognise and try to  ignore this third case.