American vs. Swedish

About everywhere I go I drop a comment about how Swedes are so cold. "Cold bastards", is my standard description.
I'm simply not used to people being nice to me. And it's not because I had a shitty childhood where my dad hit me and I had to sleep in the basement without hot water and I became scarred for life thinking no one can ever love me. It's nothing like that. It's just the way I grew up, with this certain national attitude, and I don't know anything else. Until a few months ago when I came in contact with the people I currently value the most outside of my own family.

This is how it was: Strangers are not nice to you.
I was proven otherwise.

It still doesn't make sense to me why various people have given me chances and opportunities without knowing more than my name. I can't think of any reason why they should have, and what I'm left with is the fact that they simply must be genuinely nice. Even to strangers.

During the last half year or so, I've met so many nice people, who constantly amaze me when they do something nice for me. I mean, why? Sure, I'm not gonna make myself smaller than I am and say that I don't deserve it, it just beats me that I got the positivity so fast.

Americans, who I've dealt with, are really nice people. Of course niceness is an individual feature, but they ones I've crossed path with have given me more than I could imagine.
Swedes are not like that. We don't help eachother out. Again, individual, but the attitude is remarkably different from the Americans.

If you've ever been to Sweden I'm sure you'd say that the people are so nice. "What the hell is she talking about?" But I've lived here for my entire life, and when you start seeing glimpses of how it could be, you start to analyze and compare. And the result is that, well, Swedes really are cold bastards.

Kick in the face, soft touch on the cheek

You can't believe what you're hearing.
You don't know if you should laugh or cry.
It's perfect.
Your heart is beating so fast, it's beating out of your chest and onto the ground.
It all makes sense.

I've never found myself crying when hearing a song for the first time. Until today.
Fuck, I shouldn't get this mushy.

Sound and image

Everytime I hear a song for the first time, I think about how it would work in a movie as a soundtrack. Most songs are very appropriate to put in movies, since they deliver so much emotion and that's the whole point with both medias.
I don't bother to close my eyes when I listen to music. To fully appreciate it I need pictures to go with it. Even if it's just trees passing by while riding on the bus (always a good option for soundtracks), the music is amplified in my ears when I can register things with my eyes.

I can imagine with my eyes open, I don't need to close them just to see other images than those that are really there. I imagine better with my eyes open, since I have an open door to inspiration as things pass me by. Inspiration is the real world. Inspiration is everything that happens.

I don't know if it's just because I'm a filmmaker to the bones, as I love the media, or if that's a common thing to do when you hear new music - but sound and picture are best combined.
The sound is never as sweet as when it is with the perfect concrete vision.

Crazy days?

Who am I trying to kid? Normal days.

A girl in my class found it necessary to tell me to shut up. Apparently I'm loud. She did it with a very lady-like manner though, I wasn't offended.
I'm losing hair. It could be because my pup is trying to chew off my scalp. Maybe.
My dear mother threatened to throw a shrimp in my face. Attack the vegan with seafood, why don't you.
Freezed my tits off for nothing. As usual.

Life goes on. With or without eyes open.

Did you know your body cells renew themselves every 7 years?

I've realized that I've changed a lot during these past months. I found myself thinking in different ways than I've done before. I see my future in another light. I can imagine things for myself that I was sure I'd never get into.
Six months ago I was still a kid. What I've experienced during this past fall has made me grow up. Sure, I'll still dance my ass off in my room at night, busting a move to whatever I feel like listening to. But my way of thinking has changed.

Sarah told me that she listened through our first season of Chucow Radio, and she realized how naive and young we sounded. She can see it too. We've grown, both she and I. We've made plans, we've changed our plans, we discovered something new.

I've discovered something new.
It's funny how you can be so young still, and look back and really see how you've changed. If you can do that, I guess it's for real this time.

I have a feeling that this year will be really great. Last year brought hope back to me, and I'll be damned if I won't make the best out of it.
I'll always remember this date.