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Jeg kom for et par dager siden over Pogo’s nyeste album, og forelsket meg straks i denne herligheten. Pogo lager rett og slett musikk bare av masse ulike lyder fra forskjellige Disney, Pixar og andre gamle filmer. Jeg synes det er utrolig spesielt, men også veldig vakkert, drømmende og magisk. Jeg har lagt ut et innlegg med Pogo-favoritter tidligere her, og de er også verdt å sjekke ut. Jeg synes det er så fint å se på videoene som inneholder masse små klipp fra filmene han lager låtene utifra, og det gir meg en skikkelig bra og nostalgisk følelse. De gode minnene og følelsene overskygger for de dårlige i møte med Disney for min del, og det er ingenting som fungerer bedre på mine dårlige dager enn å sette på låter som dette. Ellers håper jeg dere har hatt en fin helg og at uken som kommer blir enda finere.

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De fleste av dere følger kanskje Humans of New York enten på Facebook eller gjennom nettsiden allerede, men jeg har uansett lyst til å dele noen av de små historiene som på en eller annen måte har gjort inntrykk på meg. Jeg elsker å lese om andre menneskeliv, og spesielt på denne måten. Her blir det samlet inn sitater og historier samt tatt bilder av tilfeldige forbipasserende i én av verdens største byer, og resultatet er slående vakkert. Det er sterkt, tankevekkende, vondt, fint, trist, fascinerende og øyeåpnende på en og samme tid, og alle burde følge dette fantastiske prosjektet.

Bare se for deg alle de enorme skyskraperne og alt som foregår inni dem. Alle kjøpesentrene. Alle hjemmene. Alle parkene. I de mange bakgatene. Overalt. Jeg tenker av og til over hvor mange ansikt og menneskeliv jeg aldri vil få se eller vite noe som helst om, men gjennom Humans of New York får jeg i hvert fall et lite innblikk i tilfeldige og veldig ulike liv som blir stoppet opp rundt omkring i denne enorme storbyen. Så utrolig fint, sårt, vakkert og ekte.

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1. We were twenty-five and twenty-eight, but we acted like fifteen year olds. Fighting over little things, storming off, breaking up for a week and then getting back together. But developmentally, we were fifteen year olds. We’d been in the closet our whole lives, so we didn’t have any practice with relationships. He still hadn’t come out to his family and a lot of his friends. We were on one of our ‘little breaks’ when he died suddenly from a seizure. And nobody in his family or circle knew I existed. It took me four months to find out that he died. I thought he’d just decided never to talk to me again. His family never found out about me. Or him, for that matter.

2. «What’s the most frightened you’ve ever been?» – I was camping alone one night. And something kept snorting at my tent. It was terrifying. Found out the next morning it was a baby deer.

3. We were lying in my mom’s bedroom watching TV, and she asked me to get up and turn the lights off in the living room. But I wouldn’t do it because I’m lazy. So she got up to do it herself, and she tripped over a Fresh Direct box and broke her arm. She never left the hospital after that, and she died from her cancer a few weeks later.

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4. Her mother and I were going through a dark time when we had her, so we named her Sunshine.

5. I worry about going insane. Ever since I was young, I have periods where my thoughts make no sense and I get very impulsive and I hit things or bang my head against the wall. I just need to feel pain. It’s the only thing that pulls me out of my head and calms me down and gives me something to focus on. I think about the number 110 billion a lot. I think that’s the number of planets in the universe, or cells in the body, or grains of sand, or people who’ve ever lived, or one of those things. It makes me realize how unimportant I am. There have been seven times recently where I’ve had a knife to my wrist and I was trying to get the courage to kill myself.

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6. Don’t tell me what to do, and I won’t tell you what to do. That’s my motto. I have a lot of feelings about the decisions of my family members, but I don’t ever offer my opinion unless I’m asked. And that’s why I’m still invited to parties.

7. He put me in the hospital when I was pregnant with her. The next day he started crying, begging for forgiveness. He said: «I’m so sorry. I was drunk. I need you so much.» So I took him back. The next time it happened, he managed to convince me that it was my fault. He said that he wouldn’t have gotten so angry if I had paid more attention to him. So I started thinking that I could be better. Then it happened again. Honestly, I stayed with him so much longer than I should have because I was afraid of becoming the stereotype of a single black mother.

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8. Someone made an Instagram account that said: «You’re a slut and you should kill yourself.» 
And I was the only person they followed.

9. When I was six years old, I had a vision where I saw everything that was going to happen in my life. Jesus showed me that my life was going to be very tough, but if I stuck with him, and prayed, and cried when I needed to, and ate lots of chocolate, I’d be OK. «Where were you when you had this vision?» – At the feet of my foster mother.
She was kicking me in the stomach.

10. One day you’ll feel eighteen, look sixty, and wonder what happened.

// Inntrykket blir selvsagt sterkere og litt annerledes når man samtidig blir presentert for fotografier av alle disse menneskene, men bildene ble dessverre fryktelig kornete her på bloggen så jeg brukte derfor disse i stedet.

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«Diamonds are held under tons and tons of pressure, extremely high temperatures of fire and shuffled under shifting of tectonic plates for a long, long time. Yet when they come out from there and are put on display for their beauty; Does anybody stop to evaluate the diamond based upon all the shit it’s been through and say: ‘Remember that disgusting hole it used to be in? I bet it was hell in there!’ No, people don’t remember where a diamond has come from; They just see the beauty of it now. But it wouldn’t have become so beautiful, you know, if not for all of that. So why should we look at other people, or at ourselves and evaluate them/ourselves based upon their/our pasts? Shouldn’t we forget that? And only see the beauty that is in front of our eyes? Whatever it was, it made you beautiful! And that is what matters.»

– C. JoyBell C.

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«There are dark days ahead.”

Yes. The darkest.

You will not be able to light enough candles to push away the encroaching of this night.
The dark has its own heavy weight. There is a night sky obscured by impenetrable clouds.
The stars are as impossible to imagine as if they did not exist.

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But they are there, lover. They are always there. Shining and exploding and fragmenting into pieces too far away to see. The light moves toward us over countless miles, and even in their eventual darkness, they travel toward us still.

Millions of meteors burn, every day, as they enter the atmosphere. Incinerate and turn to dust. Disintegrate into the finest particles. So that every time you breathe you are inhaling the universe.

Right now, this very moment, your lungs are filled with stardust.

So keep breathing in the stars every time you sing. Stretch in asana and exhale divinity. Know that you are made of this universe and this universe was made for you. The very atoms that have made you whole are formed from stardust. Your light? It’s inborn. Been in you since the beginning before the beginning. Will still be here in the end after the end.

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It’s still going to get dark sometimes. The cycle between darkness and light is predictable and necessary and true. We must go deep and explore the murky shadows. We must travel down and dig our fingers into into the earth and discover the root of things. We must dance in the underworld. And we must – and we will and we do – eventually rise again.

But we need to remember, when the shadows lengthen and the nights grow ever longer, that we bring our own light into the darkness. That even when it burns out a star is still a star. And you are still you. And your light is as true and as necessary and as ever present as the North Star that still guides the sailors home.

So do me a favor, love. Know this. No matter how dark the night may get, your light will never burn out.

The incandescence is you. – Jeanette LeBlanc


I natt lytter jeg til avslappende musikk og tenker minst tusen tanker.
Jeg tenker på hvor stor verden er. På at jeg ikke burde la andre mennesker få bestemme hvordan jeg skal føle meg. Om jeg bare er et naivt menneske som prøver å lete etter det gode i absolutt alt. På hvor min plass her i verden er.
Jeg tenker på hvor mange oppsparte tårer det egentlig eksisterer i kjertlene innunder øyelokkene mine. At den rareste følelsen jeg har kjent på er følelsen av et dødt menneskes kalde hud mot min egen. En hud som en gang var varm.
Jeg tenker på at følelser ikke er farlig, men at de likevel kan være helt jævlig. At jeg ofte har villet sove fordi at det gjorde for vondt å være våken. At jeg alltid har et smil om munnen uansett hvor fort hjertet mitt løper.
Jeg tenker på de tusen tankene alle menneskene jeg kjenner bærer med seg i løpet av en hel dag. At jeg aldri vil få vite mer enn kanskje bare én prosent av dem. At det er så mye vi tenker og føler kun for oss selv i det stille.
Jeg tenker på at mennesker automatisk tenker samtidig som de snakker med meg. På at jeg aldri vil få vite eksakt hva andre mennesker egentlig tenker om meg når jeg deler en mening eller en følelse. At det er så mye vi tenker på samtidig som vi fører en samtale med noen. Så mye som foregår inni hodene våre uten at vi uttrykker det.
Jeg tenker på hvor mange hjerteslag det til sammen er som vandrer ved siden av hverandre og rundt hverandre i sentrum en lørdags formiddag. Alle med et liv og en bevissthet. Tanker og følelser. Opplevelser og inntrykk. Familie og venner.
Jeg tenker på at mai er de japanske kirsebærtrærnes måned. At jeg gleder meg som et barn til de blomstrer for fullt og gjør sentrum og gatene i nabolaget mitt rosa og eventyrlig. At de er noe av det vakreste i hele verden.
Jeg tenker at det er på tide å ta opp igjen tapte interesser. Jeg vil fotografere. Jeg vil skrive. Jeg vil tegne. Jeg vil alt.

Jeg tenker på at jeg har hatt fire år med høst i hodet, og at hjernen min endelig føler seg klar for sommeren som kommer.

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1. If you’re reading this: If there’s air in your lungs on this May day, then there is still hope for you. Your story is still going. And maybe some things are true for all of us. Perhaps we all relate to pain. Perhaps we all relate to fear and loss and questions. And perhaps we all deserve to be honest. All deserve whatever help we need. Our stories are all so many things: Heavy and light. Beautiful and difficult. Hopeful and uncertain. But our stories aren’t finished yet. There is still time for things to heal and change and grow. There is still time to be surprised. We are still going, you and I. We are stories still going. – Jamie Tworkowski

2. Most lives are not distinguished by great achievements. They are measured by an infinite number of small ones. Each time you do a kindness for someone or bring a smile to his face, it gives your life meaning. Never doubt your value, little friend. The world would be a dismal place without you in it. – Lisa Kleypas

3. There are a few things in life so beautiful they hurt: Swimming in the ocean while it rains. Reading alone in empty libraries. The sea of stars that appear when you’re miles away from the neon lights of the city. Bars after 2 A.M. Walking in the wilderness. All the phases of the moon. The things we do not know about the universe. And you. – B.T

4. Gossip needn’t be false to be evil. There’s a lot of truth that shouldn’t be passed around. – Frank A. Clark

5. Here is a list of things that feel nice: Bird feathers. The leaves of succulents. A loved one’s hair. Petunia petals. Stones polished smooth by the black depths of the ocean. Very old metal. Very old wood. A one-hundred-year-old book. The knowledge that no one will ever know the terrible things you think on a regular basis. Bumblebees when stroked lightly with your littlefinger. – Author Unknown