Writers Block

I thought if I sat staring at my blog for a while, something I could write about would come to mind. Didn't work. I've never been a good writer. During years 10 and 11 in English class I did no work at all...my teacher came to accept and expect it. "I assume you have nothing for me, Freya?" I don't know what I was thinking (or wasn't thinking). I suppose I didn't want to risk the embarrassment of failing a simple writing task. Also, I was young (I know, I still am) so rebelling was a must. I don't like to write for other people, just for myself. I'm selfish. But if I'm doing it for myself, it's a release as opposed to a task.

I still have trouble writing for myself though.

Article of Interest

-- The elephant in the room when it comes to talking about death is that when people say something like "He's no longer with us." The remaining question is, "Well, where did he go?" It's nice to think there's a heaven, or a system that somehow allows us to see each other in another life, but I wonder deep down if we can truly believe that. The thing I forget is that every day we are alive, living and breathing, we are in heaven.

This life we have on earth, it is heaven. And yes, awful, horrendous things happen and most of the time we complain like we're in hell, but the only proof I've ever had of a God existing has been through my experiences with other people.--

--Lesley Arfin. September/October 2009 issue of Russh

Great Dane

My Grandma got pregnant at a very young age. Back then it was common for the babies to be taken away from the young mums, but her father didn't let that happen. She married a young man and they raised the baby together. The biological father wasn't ready to raise a child, I guess. My Dad grew up thinking that his "Dad" was his real father. I'm not sure at what age he found out, but after his "Dad" died, his mother gave him a contact number to find his real father.Dad finally got in contact with his real father in Denmark and so did his mother. Later that year my Dad travelled to Denmark for his (real) parents wedding.

This means, by blood my last name should be Brun (Brown).

Father away

This fantastic Photo is from 1969, somewhere in Denmark. The Gentlemen on the right holding the cigarette, is my father.

In 2 weeks, we will both be flying to Denmark to celebrate my Bedstefars (Grandpa's) 85th Birthday.

The Anterior Cingulate Cortex

If i could study anything in the world, factoring out the fear of failure and the costs, I would like to study psychology. I want to understand how the mind works.

I think it would be interesting to be a Counsellor.

Lazy Days

The best days are the lazy ones. They got a whole lot more appealing about 7 months ago.

:)