life becoming a landslide

I'm back in Stockholm again, to see my mother who's visiting from Mozambique & also celebrate the first birthday of Alma, my niece. The original plan was just a quick weekend visit, but now I'm staying until Thursday (so if any friends read this, feel free to give me a call if you want to hang out this week).

The thing is that I managed to break my left leg after just one week in Gothenburg, when the brakes on my bike stopped working & I had to put my feet down to stop. Result: a tibia fracture where the bone got sort of crushed against the knee, the surgeon's description was "try visualizing it like a mortar". I spent one week at the hospital, the leg/knee needed to be operated on & now I'm on crutches until the end of October. The last couple of weeks I've been laying on my couch, popping morphine pills & eating candy, which migh sound great but I promise you, it isn't. I can't even begin to describe how much this sucks.

& like that wasn't enough, the suck-fest continued with the result of the general elections in Sweden last week; four more years of conservative right-wing government & a populist, racist party with it's roots in the neo-nazi movement got 20 seats in parliament.

Because of the pain & the pills & the general lack of enthusiasm I haven't had any energy or strength to do any stitching. I'm just feeling sorry for myself right now & because of that I'm thinking about buying this awsome and fantastic lamp. I think I deserve it.

lazy middle class intellectual

Ok, so I'm not very creative right now. It's the same old lame story; to much to do so nothing gets done. It's sort of my trademark, I venture into projects and ideas just to realize I have no energy or willpower to actually finish them. Right now it's the last essay for the course i'm taking at Uni that is due on friday & I haven't even started writing it... Haven't really done anything when it comes to studies for the last two months or so, a fact that I try to rationalize with excuses like "I can't concentrate on this right now 'cause of the problems at work, the strike & so on, oh poor poor me" but in reality I know that it's just my own fucking fault that I once again started something that I won't finish. the story of my life.

So I've spent the last days on the couch, watching tv, thinking about all the things I should do instead of doing nothing & going back & forth between selfhatred & selfpity. & then I start thinking about all the people in the world that have real problems & what a stupid crybaby I am that only complain & whine over shitty stuff like the fact that I can't pull myself together enough to get this done. & then I cry a little bit more over the fact that the world is such a mess & that it won't get any better even if I actually sit down & write the essay, 'Cause who the fuck cares about my "vision of Africa in 2030"? It just feels so presumptuous to even think about it, like the lifes of millions would get any easier just because a bunch of middle class twenty-somethings from one of the riches countries on earth writes a paper about the future of Africa. Fuck it. Oh Ijust love myself right now!

Sorry for the rant. I'll get back to the crafting when I'm done with my first world anxiety attack. I'm working on a housewarming present that I'm making for my dad (he's moving away from Stockholm at the end of January). Also thinking about learning how to knit, but I'm guessing it won't happen any time soon.