Alealejandro

I am not particularly fond of Lady Gaga's "Alejandro", in fact, I think it's a pretty bad song. I doesn't speak to me at all, on any level. But I find myself being drawn to the music video that comes with it. It's extremely visually dynamic, dark and I love the androgyny of the characters. And the colors - there are hardly any. It draws me in.

If you haven't checked it out yet (I'm probably the last person to discover it at this point), I suggest that you do:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=niqrrmev4mA

The fairy and the carp

Yesterday I got two new tattoos. One for each calf. A fairy to the left and a carp to the right.

I had five tattoos before the two new ones, so I’ve been in the game for a while and felt pretty confident that the pain wouldn’t be a problem, because it hasn’t been before. I mean, yeah, it hurts pretty badly, but you get such an adrenaline rush out of it, so you don’t really notice the pain.

Well, let me tell you something – yesterday, I damn well noticed it! The calves are apparently one of the most painful places to get tattooed ever. I actually thought I was going to die a couple of times. And I had to look back there to check that she wasn’t cutting me open with a butcher knife, because that’s what it felt like. It felt like someone had taken a giant fucking hook, jabbed it into my leg and started pulling intensely at it.

Ouch, fucking ouch.

The tattoo artist was great though (www.fruduva.se). She was fast and thorough and kept talking to me throughout the whole process. About feminism even! And she gave me a lollipop. 

The actual tattooing part of the process took about an hour and a half, so it wasn’t really that bad time wise. But the pain… I know I’m being repetitive here, but I just need you people reading this to understand the extreme torture that I voluntarily put myself through last night. So, if you’re thinking of getting a tattoo and you don’t have one before – don’t start with your fucking calves! That’s all I’m saying.

But hey, on the other hand, today I’m ecstatic and I absolutely love my new ink. And it was totally worth all the pain. I can just pretty much promise you that the rest of the skin on my calves will remain untouched by ink.

The latest addition to my ink collection. All in simple black.

I'm your greatest fan, I'll follow you until you love me

I read somewhere that Twilight-star Kristen Stewart once compared the paparazzi treatment with being raped. I can totally see the resemblance there, but when fans were upset with this statement she took it all back and apologized.

What a fucking sell-out.

What kind of a person has she become if her damn fans decide what opinions she may or may not have? Who cares if they are upset with something she says? She’s not their property, she’s an individual and is bound to say or do things that the fans don’t always approve of. If she starts apologizing for it, then she really is nothing more than a product.

And it scares the shit out of me to think that there are fans out there who actually believe they have the right to shape and mold her as they see fit.

Aerial

She’s flying.

Her arms are stretched out far to the sides, reaching for nothing but air. She can feel the wind blowing through her hair and giving speed to her whole body. She’s twirling, gliding through time and space like an aerial ballerina. Like a fairy tale creature of some kind. A pixie or an elf. Beyond graceful.

Her left leg is extended far to the back and peaking in a prolonged, straight upwards angle, toes pointed to make her feet like elegant arrows. The right leg is what keeps her attached to the pole. Her entire body hanging free, except from the right knee, hooked and gripping tightly. All that freedom, secured by one tiny bodypart.

She’s flying.