Lang


A penny for your thoughts. Five bucks if they're dirty.


OMBRE

Dagens aktivitet: skaffa ny frill.
Instagram went mad.


Jag har glömt dig en vacker dag


Travel

Jag har mycket att se fram emot det här halvåret.
Nästa fredag åker jag till London över helgen med bästa vännen. Vi ska bo på fint hotell, shoppa, dricka drinkar, se ut som kickerz med för stora kepsar och kedjor, varva med English rose och vackra klänningar och stora lockar. Dricka afternoon tea och dansa tills vi inte kan stå upp längre.
I mars ska jag och den andra bästa vännen till ett varmt och soligt Egypten i en vecka. En vecka fylld med bad, sol, mat, äventyr och utflykter. Färgglada bikinis och jeansshorts kommer att vara dagarnas standardoutfit och alla bekymmer kommer att försvinna.
I april ska jag till Paris med världens finaste pappa över en helg. Njuta av sällskapet och turista oss. Äta croissanter och shoppa för dyra kläder och klämma på Diorväskor.
I juni bär det av till den amerikanska södern tillsammans med min älskade storasyster. Vi ska köra en roadtrip under två veckor och bara leva rock'n'roll-livet jag alltid har drömt om. Vi har kollat rutt, hyrbil, resväg, städer och annat nödvändigt.

Behöver jag ens förklara hur lycklig och taggad på livet jag är? Nej. Jag tror ni hajar.


Childhood

Jag fick ett fint armband av en vän som jag numer använder varje dag. Tycker att det är superfint, och det är för en bra sak dessutom.
Om ni vill se lika tjusiga ut så kan ni gå in här köpa ett eget.
Puss älsklingar.
 
 

A girl who writes

Date a girl who may never wear completely clean clothes, because of coffee stains and ink spills. She’ll have many problems with her closet space, and her laptop is never boring because there are so many words, so many worlds that she’s cluttered amidst the space. Tabs open filled with obscure and popular music. Interesting factoids about Catherine the Great, and the immortality of jellyfish. Laugh it off when she tells you that she forgot to clean her room, that her clothes are lost among the binders so it’ll take her longer to get ready, that her shoes hidden under the mountain of broken Bic pens and the refurbished laptop that she’s saved for ever since she was twelve. 

Kiss her under the lamppost, when it’s raining. Tell her your definition of love.

Find a girl who writes. You’ll know that she has a sense of humor, a sense of empathy and kindness, and that she will dream up worlds, universes for you.She’s the one with the faintest of shadows underneath her eyelids, the one who smells of coffee and Coca-cola and jasmine green tea. You see that girl hunched over a notebook. That’s the writer. With her fingers occasionally smudged with charcoal, with ink that will travel onto your hands when you interlock your fingers with her’s. She will never stop, churning out adventures, of traitors and heroes. Darkness and light. Fear and love. That’s the writer. She can never resist filling a blank page with words, whatever the color of the page is.

She’s the girl reading while waiting for her coffee and tea. She’s the quiet girl with her music turned up loud (or impossibly quiet), separating the two of you by an ocean of crescendos and decrescendos as she’s thinking of the perfect words. If you take a peek at her cup, the tea or coffee’s already cold. She’s already forgotten it.

She’ll give you a chance.

Don’t lie to her. She’ll understand the syntax behind your wordsShe’ll be disappointed by your lies, but a girl who writes will understand. She’ll understand that sometimes even the greatest heroes fail, and that happy endings take time, both in fiction and reality. She’s realistic. A girl who writes isn’t impatient; she will understand your flaws. She will cherish them, because a girl who writes will understand plot. She’ll understand that endings happen for better or for worst.

A girl who writes will not expect perfection from you. Her narratives are rich, her characters are multifaceted because of interesting flaws. She’ll understand that a good book does not have perfect characters; villains and tragic flaws are the salt of books. She’ll understand trouble, because it spices up her story. No author wants an invincible hero; the girl who writes will understand that you are only human.

Be her compatriot, be her darling, her love, her dream, her world.

If you find a girl who writes, keep her close. If you find her at 2 am, typing furiously, the neon gaze of the light illuminating her furrowed forehead, place a blanket gently on her so that she does not catch a chill. Make her a pot of tea, and sit with her. You may lose her to her world for a few moments, but she will come back to you, brimming with treasure. You will believe in her every single time, the two of you illuminated only by the computer screen, but invincible in the darkness.

She is your Shahrazad. When you are afraid of the dark, she will guide you, her words turning into lanterns, turning into lights and stars and candles that will guide you through your darkest times. She’ll be the one to save you.

You will propose to her. Maybe on a boat in the ocean, maybe in a little cottage in the Appalachian Mountains. Maybe in New York City. Maybe Chicago. Baltimore. Maybe outside her publisher’s office. Because she’s radiant, wherever she goes. Maybe even outside of a cinema where the two of you kiss in the rain. She’ll say that it is overused and clichéd, but the glint in her eyes will tell you that she appreciates it all the same.

You will smile hard as she talks a mile a second, and your heart will skip a beat when she holds your hand and she will write stories of your lives together. She’ll hold you close and whisper secrets into your ears. She’s lovely, remember that. She’s self made and she’s brilliant. Her names for the children might be terrible, but you’ll be okay with that. A girl who writes will tell your children fantastical stories.

A girl who writes will understand reality. She’ll be infuriating at times, and maybe sometimes you will hate her. Sometimes she will hate you too. But a girl who writes understands human nature, and she will understand that you are weak. She will not leave the first moment that things go sour. She will understand that real life isn’t like a story, because while she works in stories, she lives in reality.

Because that is the best part about a girl who writes. She has imagination and she has courage, and it will be enough. She’s wittyempathetic, enigmatic at times and she’s lovely. She’s got the most colorful life that there are so many sensations that you will be left breathless by a girl who writes. 

Date a girl who writes because you deserve it. Date a girl who writes because a girl who writes reads. Date a girl who writes because there is no one better then a girl who writes.


Jag älskar dig så mycket men jag vet inte om jag tycker om dig längre men jag kommer att älska dig för alltid ändå


NEWYEARSEVE/BW


2013

hej bloggen

nytt år. man blir alltid så jävla sentimental och nostalgisk på nyår. fast det hör ändå till. att tänka tillbaka på det som varit och därefter reflektera över huruvida man borde göra det bättre eller på ett helt annat sätt nästa gång.
för min del har 2012 inte varit ett särskilt bra år. i alla fall inte större delen av det. det mesta minns jag inte ens. inte på grund av alkohorelaterade minnesluckor, utan mer för att det inte finns så mycket att minnas.
dom flesta minnena jag har har jag tillsammans med dig. dom minnena vill jag helst av allt inte minnas just nu. dom minnena kan jag plocka fram igen om sisådär två tre år när detta år inte spelar någon roll längre. då kan jag minnas oss.
nu vill jag inte minnas oss för då kommer jag bli kär i minnen och och förbannad på personen och det blir liksom inte så bra. du är arkiverad, med allt vad det innebär.

år 2012 har jag väntat. väntat på någonting som tillfälligt och diffust kom, men som därefter slets ifrån mig, och som senare gick sönder totalt. jag gick sönder.
det är det jag har spenderat årets sista månader med: att pussla ihop mig själv igen. och vet ni? jag har lyckats jävligt fint med det. känns som om det blev ett bättre ihoppusslande denna gång än vad det blev 2011. det tror jag beror på att jag pusslade ihop mig på egen hand denna gång, jämfört med förut när jag ibland låtit någon annan göra det åt mig. det är så lätt att det blir fel då.
2012, jag tackar dig för att du lärde mig så många läxor. det måste man också göra här i livet.
tack för att du påminde mig om att man måste vara sin egen bästa vän.
tack för att du påminde mig om vad ett hjärta är värt.
tack för att du lärde mig hur långt man kan gå för kärlek.
tack för att du bekräftade regeln att man måste älska sig själv mer än någon annan för annars så faller allt liksom samman.
tack för att du gav mig ett bättre slut än början.

när 2012 startade låg jag hemma och grät ögonen ur mig och hatade allting.
när 2012 slutade stod jag tillsammans med människorna jag älskar så djupt och skrattade mot himlen. jag fick fem nyårskyssar från olika personer, och kände en brinnande längtan efter äventyr i hjärtat. det var länge sedan jag kände den glöden.

tack för allt 2012. come at me 2013.


I won't leave you..

.. but I extended my network.
http://dearstarla.tumblr.com/

You


Untitled


To all my girls


Att rensa sin inkorg på gamla kärleksbrev

2011-05-08
 
"Hey love, hope everything's good. I got my tattoo today and it made me miss you even more. Ignore what Albin said it was cuz it's not. It's still from that John Mayer song but it's not what he txtd you. 
I've been thinking though. It's crazy how you actually can feel like you've known someone for years when you've actually only known them for a couple of days. With you, I always feel special. With you, I always want to be. And I know that is crazy talk, and I know that probably will scare you away. I know how you feel about your freedom and the fact that you are so independent (which I love about you).
But you know what? I don't care. I don't care if you think I'm crazy. I don't care if you think I'm moving too fast. All I care about is that I want to be with you. That's all I care about.
And I pray to God that your heart turns warm when you read this, 'cause since I met you, my heart gets warmer for each day. I've never met anyone like you and I'm sorry, but I can't let you go just yet. I have to know if there is something more to this than a couple of days romance.
Just promise me this: let's try, okey? Just try. No pressure, just you and me and our feelings.
'Cause you know, I love everything about you. Your laugh, mostly because you have like 10 different ones, depending on what you're laughing at. I love your cheeky eyes too. That look you get when you look at me and you're up to something. That look makes my knees weaken and my heart pound. It's crazy, but that's what you always do to me. And how can you smell so good all the time? You smell like.. Strawberries. And sunlight. Not that I know how that's possible, but still, you actually do smell like sunshine. And waking up next to you every morning made me feel like the luckiest man on the planet. With all that blone hair coverig the pillow, and that beautiful body (my god). I'm sorry for being such a guy, but when it comes to that bum, I seriously can't help it.
That night when you said "I'm yours" and looked at me with those gorgeous cheeky eyes.. Man, that made me feel special. And I love that about you: the man you make me feel like when I'm with you. You make me feel invincible. I don't know how or what it is that you do to make me feel like that.
But fuck it, I don't care. So baby please, listen to me when I say this: be with me.
Stay with me. Be mine. Let me be yours. Promise me, and I guess I see you soon then.
I miss you every day. You're amazing. I'll always remember you, no matter what.
 
Xx"
 
2011-05-12
 
"Hey bubs! I know you hate it when I call you that but I just had to haha! What was it you said, that it sounds like a nickname for a fat guy in prison? 

Anyway, hope you're alright. You didn't answer my txt earlier so I'm not sure you actually got it. You know my Blackberry is freakin mad sometimes.
I don't really have anything special to say or whatever, butI just wanted to say hi. I hope your job interview went well. They're mad if they don't hire you.
I talked to one of my friends the other day bout you, hope you don't mind. He asked me about you, like who you are and what you look like etc. And you know what, I swear to God that he had to stop me when I had talked about you for 15 minutes straight hahaha! I just recon there's so much for me to say about you.
Man, you know you really got me hooked? Those cheeky eyes.. I can't help it.
I told him about the time we where at Favela and how every guy in the entire room turned around and looked at you when you came through the doors, and then how you perfectly turned around and laughed and grabbed my hand and went like "come on darling, lets go dancing" and I'd be like.. man, is this really my date tonight? You were just perfect, and I know that you hate it when I say that but I really think you are. We don't have girls like you in the UK haha! You just amaze me. All the time.
I miss you all the time. I miss our mornings and our afternoons when we listned to Smash into you and all my weird jazz music on my iPod in our bunkbed. I miss everything with you you know. You.. man, I don't even know. Haha. Just come over here and I'll be the happiest man on the planet okey?

Alright, hope to talk to you soon then. Bye babe, I think abut you all the time.
Yours and only yours
the king of cheese."

If you read this, I'm so sorry for how it all turned out. I never meant to break your heart.


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