He has got a tattoo which looks like Jack Nickholson

He sleeps naked and I think, who the hell is he

Not the prince from my fairytales,

Not the one I´m gonna passionately fall in love with

So I get up quiently, dress up in the staircase.

My mom calls me to say hello and she tells me

how nice it would be if I´d come to see her,

but I know too well, I´d hear the same words again.

I gotta get out of this place,

I gotta get out of here.

I need enough pain so that even the smallest joys in my life appear bigger. I need to see enough rain to appreciate the sun even more. But yes, I do need enough happiness to keep my spirit alive.

"You think blondes do it better... it´s because you´ve never had a redhead."

There is just some magnetic in this colour. But it´s not about the colour - it´s all about the passion.

Got melanocortin 1...? Carrot tops are green, Einstein!

I don´t care what is said and written about me... as long as it isn´t true. Oh well, in a way I´ve started to live in memories, ´cause at the moment there´s nothing happening. I don´t have any money, my work will start in the end of this month, and all my nearbyes are so far away. I can´t study, just because I don´t have the right books. I don´t have enough money to buy them. I just hate this.

Fucking a why can´t I be a little child again? Well okay, I gotta confess I´m counting days till my b-day, ´cos my life may change a bit when I´m grown-up. So, it´s 4 weeks to go now. I guess I have to see if it´ll change something. At least, I´ll get a driving license (I own a car already), and I´ll have better possibilities to get work.

Sometimes I wanna kill, sometimes I wanna die, sometimes I wanna destroy, sometimes I wanna die. Life is hard... And after all it kills you.

In fact I am a dope sick girl. And this dope sick girl gotta rig and ride to New york city... gonna run away, gonna watch it burn in the heart of New york city. Oh yes, I stole his money and spirits, 87 dollars gone... and some whiskey, too. Oh yeah that´s what I did.  Behind every bitch there's a man who made her that way.

Deep inside we all are somebody, no matter what we wanna be. But oh yes, we insist on doing what we wanna do.

I think I should feel something, but yet... I don´t seem to feel anything. Staring at the window feels as entertaining as hanging around with my friends. At the moment nothing matters to me and nothing seems to be worth of fighting. No one I know can seem to help me now.

You gotta fight for me, oh yes you have to do,

´cos I´m too good for you.

Most of my nearbyes already know I´m absolutely insane. No matter how inseparable I am with my friends, I feel in the back of my head that someday they are going to leave me anyway and we´re gonna forget each other in any case. I adore people who are able to speak about their feelings, ´cos no one can read minds and so if no one is going to say what´s wrong, nothing will figure out.

I´ve discovered not every relationships is meant to be a deep connection. Some people are just meant to be your freetime friends, some are meant to be your business friends - not your best friends. Well, ranting about these things doesn´t really get me anywhere but more overwrought.

Most of my friends feel the same hell, we don´t even have ourselves to blame.

I´ve spoken up so many times about one difficult relationship that I don´t have any words left to say about it anymore. I´ve suffered so much because of it by now, that right now the only thing I wanna do is to forget about it. I´ve just had enough of stuff. I quess I just have to wait and see what happens... And don´t forget I´ve just let the things happen.

As if I don´t have enough stressing me out, I have to pay douplerent this month.

Hell, I´m totally addictet to talking about myself.

Sometimes it´s good to have something to do that keeps you busy for so many hours of the day that you don´t have any time to question yourself. I love doing everything that forces to concentrate - and that way forces to forget about everything else.

I never thought this is where I'd be.

I gotta confess I´m pretty fucking tired of extremely secretive relationships. They all have ended up dramatically by now. Now it´s time to think about me, no matter what people around me do - and I quite honestly don´t care what they do as long as it doesn´t hurt me. Well... I would be pleased if some of my nearbyes would learn to think with their heads at all times - not the heart and other body parts.

I said I´m right next door to hell, why don´t you write a letter to me.

Pills, pills, pills... - Insted of making me better they keep making me ill.

In a way I´ve started to hate the person I´ve become. I hate the way I treat my relationships and the way I treat myself. I forgive myself every time I sin. I just can´t bear to see what I´ve let me be, so wicked and worn. Despise all my effort I have made only a little progress until now.

So my eyes seek reality and my fingers seek my veins.

I have established there seems to be a very fine line between loving and hating a person. Crossing that fucking line is so damn easy - and you´re gonna lose anyway. (Well... to hell with all these men, I hope they all die and rot in hell... So I don´t mean only that kind of love relationships). I feel I keep on making the same mistakes again and meeting wrong persons - and there seems to be no ending. A thousand lies have made me colder and these days have made me older.

I´ve heard this life is overrated.

In a case, you are wondering, I am moving from Roihuvuori to Pasila. Pasila is a centralsuburb. It´s a central-northern district, bordering Alppila to the south, Central Park to the west and Vallila to the east. Pasila has got it´s own railway station, which makes the whole place very active. Before the suburb was built, there were only wooden houses in the whole area, so it was called "Wooden Pasila".  Nowadays, only few of those houses still exist. The apartment I´m moving in, is skinnied with red-bricks. Our flat is 96 square meters+balcony. The area is very unigue because of the location - Hartwall Areena, Olympiastadion and Central Park are very near.

I am used to come home to an empty house - or to a house that is too full of everyhting. Like I said to my housemates today; "My home seems to be where I lay my head down". They laughed. But I´ve really had this feeling for over a year already. There are so many mornings, when I just haven´t remembered where I am when I´ve waken up.

What a sad life... but how beautiful kind of way.

...I gotta confess that sometimes I´ve thought I would like to know how it feels when the time gets fast but everything gets slow.

To dream is to risk despair.

To try is to risk a failure.

To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.

=Only a person who risks is free.

(Could you tell me what it´s like to be free?)

It´s been a month and still no word. 

I´m in a car right now... I´m doing 90 on a freeway.

Hey hon´, I drank a fifht of vodka... ya dare me to drive?

Think about it, you ruined it now.

I hope you can´t sleep when you dream about it.

And when you dream I hope you can´t sleep and you scream about it.

I hope your consciuos eats at you and you can´t breathe without me.

Well, gotta go... I´m almost on the bridge now.

Oh shit! I forgot!... How am I supposed to send this shit out?