The wave

When I was younger, I anticipated and hoped for something more. I wasn’t sure what that something would be, but I could sense it somehow. It was there, right behind the horizon, and I had to find it. Then, like an ocean wave that has travelled the ocean to reach me, it would hit me and shake me and immerse me, and everything would be different. The ugliness and the pain that had been so heavy to carry would suddenly become light, so light that it would fly away at the first gust of wind.

Whatever it was, the notion would become more tangible during the sleepless, ever-bright summer nights we get here in Sweden. When drunk. When thinking of whoever I was in love with.

At some point the idea faded. It started to wither away when I had lived long enough to realize that everything wouldn’t be different the next year, the next country, the next job. But now, when I look back, I realize things really are different. There just wasn’t ever a powerful wave. It was a slow tide coming in through the fog.

The dark sisters

Stress and Sadness. Fear and Longing. Worry and Sorrow. They go under different names, but we know them well. We know their real names. Anxiety. Melancholia. Like dark sisters that never meet. One is our enemy. One our friend.

They seem similar, but they’re not. Both seem to arise from the same dark, hidden place, but one whispers while the other yells. If it was possible to choose between the two, the choice would be a simple one. But it’s not possible. They come and go as they like.

Anxiety is like a predator. She buries her claws deep into your flesh, feeds on you, and leaves you bruised or worse. You want to flee, but this is not the pre-historic savannah and running will take you nowhere. So you remain on your chair as she screams at you, shouting ugly things. You dont want to listen any more, but it was never a choice in the first place, was it?

Melancholy is a cocoon. She slowly grows around you until you are fully enclosed and divorced from the world. Inside that cocoon is the entire universe, cold and vast. With her near you are alone, on a mountaintop in the faint light of distant stars, feeling the night’s breeze against your naked skin. The world is an ocean embracing you, and you can feel every inch of the never-ending depth’s ice cold water.

It’s the summer sunrise before the others have waken up. The starry night when they’re asleep.

Change is afoot

We’re already well into the second month of the year when I’m writing this, but I still want to spend a few sentences on the notion of changing years. New year’s eve has always been important to me personally, because it’s filled to the brim with an idea of transformation. The idea that everything in your life has the potential to change, and the moment when the past year lies down to die is experienced as the moment when new doors open and old ones are left behind. It means new hope. Refueled dreams.

It is naive, of course, but how can we argue with hope?

New year’s eve no longer carries the importance to me that it once did – perhaps I’m older and more cynical, or perhaps there are fewer aspects of life I want to see changed – but this year will mean a lot of change for me nonetheless. In one way it already has. My girlfriend Lena finished her studies right before Christmas last year, and moved in with me here in Oslo on the 13th of January. I have a better life living with her.

In other ways… Well, I’ll keep you posted.

Rebooting my Unity project

I’ve started playing around with Unity again. The project I have in mind has been on hold since I accidently deleted it (don’t ask) a few months ago, but I’ve now started it all over again, and this time I’m hopefully a bit wiser on how to do it. An example of my newfound wisdom: Don’t delete your project! I’m going to write more about what I’m actually trying to achieve once the project has gotten somewhere. Here’s a screenshot of what I’ve worked on tonight.