Hellstrøm’s Dream, No. 214

Screaming. I woke up: screaming. I couldn’t remember a fucking thing. I felt I had dreamt a thousand dreams, but I couldn’t, as usual, remember a damned thing. I was alive, I knew that much. God only knew how, and why, but I was. I even had the funny feeling I was in control, though I was confused.
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Ahhh, then I remembered: I had been cutting my own hair, in the dream. I saw my own face in the mirror, as I snipped and snipped, the hair falling in front of my horrified eyes… suddenly I felt on my head with my hands, with an ugly, dawning feeling of disaster. But no, my hair was still there.
What did that mean, cutting my hair in a dream? What would a dream-interpreter say to that? What would Freud say? Was it sexual?
I laughed out loud and went to take a piss.

Be Thankful

Be thankful that I am not a warrior. Be thankful that I believe in humanitarian ideals. Be thankful that I am, at heart, a peaceable being, in spite of the fire that burns within me. Be thankful that I have not murdered every single fucking person that has done me harm. Be thankful for my reason. Be thankful that the knife in my hand is only good for cutting cheese. Be thankful. This is civilization. Tame the beast within. Had I been raised different, I’d cut you. Cut, cut, cut you.
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Clichés…

make life easier. They are just another way of sticking things in drawers, and sticking things in drawers is what has made homo sapiens so damned successful. Humans are the great organizers, the great classifiers. That is the key to our success, aside from our basic aggressive nature. Violence and organization. Okay, let us leave violence aside for the moment.
So; sticking things in drawers… don’t you do it? Careful how you answer now, think before speaking, as it were. You can’t speak here anyway, it’s a fucking blog, How I hate blogs. I never read the damned things.
I know you do: sticking things in drawers. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. (Do you aliens –I know you are reading this too– feel that way as well?)
The interesting thing is, how fast we stick people in drawers. Fact is, within instants of meeting someone, we have already stuck them in a drawer. Like the drawer „asshole“, for instance. The question is, how flexible are the drawers, or how flexible are we? Can we move people from one drawer to another when our first impression has proved to be erroneous?
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I think people put each other in several drawers, and these drawers are subject to constant evaluation and change. There is not a single drawer, but rather always a mixture of drawers. Sets of drawers, as it were, that fluctuate.
I suppose that means that, when you have landed in my „asshole“ drawer, there are many sub-drawers that influence that decision. If I change my mind about enough of those sub-drawers, you might even land in the „sub-asshole“ drawer. If you lick my ass hard, you might even land in the „neutral“ drawer, assuming you do it subtly enough not to arouse my suspicion. There is nothing more suspect than an ass-licker. Yuck.
Perhaps you are simply not an asshole, and my first impression was completely wrong, for whatever reason. Maybe you had a bad day when I met you… you were hung-over, or pissed off at your lover, or had a nighgmare the night before.
This is the point where I say: toss all clichés overboard! But I know that is not possible, humans being what they are. Damn’ fool big-brain hairless apes. Can’t trust ’em for half a minute.

Your Life, Do You Like it Well?

You like the money? You like the holidays? But when they kick down your front door… well, you probably live in a country where they don’t do that sort of thing, don’t you? Like me. Not your front door. Freedom is something you take for granted. You don’t realize it is a privilege that someone once fought for. A privilege that may have to be fought for again at any time, a privilege that can be taken away, just like that. Lay your life on the line, baby. Better yet, make sure it don’t go that far.
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Subtlety

Isn’t it obvious that one should be subtle? I mean, where would we be without obvious subtlety? Obviously, subtlety is a good thing, ain’t it? There is nothing more obvious than flaunting subtlety. Obviously. Up-front subtlety is the best kind, or? In-your-fucking-face-subtlety. Glitter-subtlety. Bling-subtlety. Christ almighty, subtle subtlety ain’t worth shit: no one notices it, in this day and age. Passé. Subtle subtlety just goes down in the mass. You have to make clear, first of all, that you are being subtle. And once you have people’s attention, then you can proceed. Subtly. Hush, dear, someone is trying to be subtle. Shhhh.