The sky's falling

So I'm in Tampere again. The official reason is that this is one of the places in my ghost book and there's stuff I have to check, and the actual reason is that I just felt an intense urge to leave Helsinki and spend the small hours after midnight sitting on a bus on a road to somewhere. Dark roads, dark roads, dark roads

I arrived last night. So this is the second night. About 28 hours ago I was walking on an unknown side of Helsinki, looking for a bus to take me to the bus station, listening to a song by Justin Bieber ft. Chris Brown: Ooone day, wheen the sky is faaa-lling, I'll by staaan-ding riiight neext to you...

Well, I can promise you that. When the sky is falling, I'll be standing right next to you. Walking, swimming, flying. You can count on me.

A couple of hours ago I was walking on an unknown side of this city, looking like teenage Kevin Spacey, looking up at the huge dark universe above me filled with stars, and I could have thrown up. I've noticed that I look good only when I look indecent and filthy. My mother claims that I don't shower anymore, which is not true, as I do shower early in the morning when the world's asleep.

So apparently, people around you have cool secrets.

So anyway, last night when I arrived and entered this hotel (motel) room, I saw my face in the mirror and realized that I look like Kevin Spacey. Finally I actually look like somebody. I spent an hour staring at my face. The question is: if I really look like Kevin Spacey, then why on Earth was this the first time I noticed it? Probably because I had been unaware of Kevin Spacey's existence up until about, I don't know, 1 month ago.

Today I don't really see it anymore. Last night I was somehow insane anyway.

There are girls who make me think, "Oh my fucking goodness, I love girls." Then there are girls who make me think, "Oh my fucking goodness, I hate girls." Then there are people who make me think, "Oh my fucking goodness, I hate people." Then there are people who make me think, "Oh my fucking goodness, I love people, there's hope in us, hope, hope, hope"

I may be becoming an asshole. It's alright I guess, as long as you don't hurt others.

Hypomania.

Erratic behaviour.

I have Oscar Wilde's sexual orientation.

No I don't. Anyway, Oscar Wilde's boyfriend creeps me out:

Simply because all these pictures were taken in the 19th century. That's just sort of horrible. Disgusting. 19th century. Eerie. Horrible.

Why don't Lorde's official pictures look like the actual Lorde? What's wrong with looking unusual? Unusual is orgasticly wonderful.

Very soon, Lorde has been dead for 114 years. Obviously, I'm still going to be around.

I guess I'm a pretty unusual 19-year-old. I've written 3 books, and I've never had sex with anyone, kissed anyone, partied with anyone, and the last time I actually hung out with someone was about 5 years ago.

What if somebody knocked on the door of this motel room? Would I open it? Would it kill me? Would they kill me?

The world always has the potential to be a wonderful place, never forget that, my young friend.