Latest ten days of posting

Weblog | I don't like the word blog, it's ugly. Anyway, new content happens here. (Swedish dito)

About me and the site | Twenty-something male who likes text. Obsessed with things such as books, reality, communication, and one or two tv-shows.

Archives | Things written here since... well, 2001. Some of it is good, some is utter shait.

Books | Books read, not books written. So far I've struggled to maintain unpublished.

Photo | I like my camera and it likes me.

Links | Outwards, away, flee.

e-mail | J. Nicklas Andersson

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2003-07-27

It’s not August just yet, but I felt I had to explain myself a little.

I have run out of relevant things to say. Relevant in the weblog-medium anyway. I feel that things I write here should be true and interesting. Preferably both at the same time. But recently I’ve began to experience that truth can be an obsticle and something that is reactionary. I just take the other path, but if I begin to dabble in fiction here, where does it end? I’m not comfortable with that, Lost Pages isn’t about fiction. Lately, I’ve felt cut of from life. That means that I don’t have words to describe it that good anymore. Add to this that I’ve grown weary of this whole Internet deal, and you’ll understand that I cannot even participate the usual link game. So, all this didn’t come as a shock for me. I saw it coming a long way back.

So, fictional ideas, rambling and diguised truths will be at the root of all things. It is more fun, maybe not for you but definitivly for me. (After all, truth is only stranger than fiction because we believe that fiction doesn’t have any rules to follow. We fail to realise that fiction is truth.)

If you still want to read something, then may I be so bold as direct you to Tim as he has a life (sort of), Natalie as she has pictures, and Kevan as he has silly links.