A paper town for a paper girl.

For a long time I've been wondering why my adventures in Sweden brought such a change to my life. In my blog post about it I wrote about being a bundle of issues with a vivid discomfort and a sudden feeling of loneliness. It had been a good time there, but when I got back to my hometown, it was absolutely awful. It was as if the evil mirror from the Snow Queen was smashed once again and a little particle of if fell into my eyes. Nothing was as nice as I though it had been, nothing was as real and as good anymore. At first I thought it was because I'd had such a good time away and it was hard to get back to the notsomeness ("Man, I wish there was a photoshop for reality" - John Green). I still wondered at how my perception of what is important and what is rubbish changed after that little trip. But not until four months later did I realize what was it that I realized and that I wasn't the only one to come at such an realization.

Conclusion one: "Here's what's not beautiful about it: from here, you can't see the rust or the cracked paint or whatever, but you can tell what the place really is. You see how fake it all is. It's not even hard enough to be made of plastic. It's a paper town. I mean look at it, Q: look at all those cul-de-sacs, those streets that turn in on themselves, all the houses that were built to fall apart. All those paper people living in their paper houses, burning the future to stay warm. All the paper kids drinking beer some bum bought for them at the paper convenience store. Everyone demented with the mania of owning things. All the things paper-thin and paper-frail. And all the people, too. I've lived here for eighteen years and I have never once in my life come across anyone who cares about anything that matters". "Paper Towns" by John Green, page 57-58

Conclusion two: "The truth is that whenever I went up to the top of the SunTrust Building - including that last time with you- I didn't really look down and think about how everything was made of paper. I looked down and thought about how I was made of paper. I was the flimsy-foldable person, not everyone else. And here's the thing about it. People love the idea of a paper girl. They always have. And the worst thing is that I loved it, too. I cultivated it, you know?

  Because it's kind of great, being an idea that everybody likes.

But I could never be the idea to myself, not all the way. And Agloe is a place where a paper creation became real. A dot on the map became a real place, more real than the people who created the dot could ever have imagined. I thought maybe the paper cutout of a girl could start becoming real here also. And it seemed like a way to tell that paper girl who cared about popularity and clothes and everything else 'You are going to the paper towns. And you are never coming back'". "Paper Towns" by John Green, page 293-294

Here's the deal: maybe you Q, or you John, strove to become the wounded man and decided it was an impossible operation. But you managed. These words struck through me like a lightning bolt, I had to stop reading and hide the book to my purse. And I probably gave out a very bad impression throughout the day. The last time I read Paper Towns I thought it was a good book. This time, I'd say I am the wounded man. And somebody has just been in my head and told me what was wrong with me for the entire time.

Sweden was my SunTrust Building. A place from where you can't see the cracks, rust and every stinking aspect of your world, but you see how fake it all is. Sweden was my SunTrust Building, seeing from that perspective I was able to see the paper town I've been built into here, or rather, that I've built? With the eyes of my imagination I could see a really powerful wind blow blustering against the frail paper walls. My organism told me that Sweden was supposed to be the Ultimate Trip - the one that Margo made to Agloe. Everything inside of me told me that the Ultimate Trip was leaving once for all, the blustering wind that would sweep the paper town from the face of the earth. That it was the end of the paperness. But it was not. And because it was not, it left me with a taste of bitterness in my mouth and a sharpened vision, having been up at the top floor of the SunTrust Building.
Once me and my friend were doing a survey for a magazine. One of the questions was "how do you see your future?". Our other friend responded "In 3D", probably to imply that the question was stupid.
But I never thought how I would like it to be true. I do want to see the future of everything in 3D.

Margo says that living in a paper town is caring about the unimportant things. What strikes me personally is not the fact that I do care about the other life more than the one that I live right now. It is the fact that I am SO insincere on the Internet. I don't mean to rake over every single event in my life and making it significant, because MY EMOTIONS ARE SO-OH IMPORTANT. No. I just don't want to be a paper girl. Because I do give a false impression. And -as illogical as it seems- unconsciously I mean to.

When I started this blog my goal was to make words signify things again. When I started BEDA my goal was to grasp the threat of a failure. As I'm starting the 2012 blogging season, my goal is to make the paper girl leave for paper towns and never come back. If I want a better life, I'm sorry.
 As in every good Internet lifestyle, there is a ridiculous challenge.
IN 2012 I'M GONNA BE BLOGGING DAILY. BAM. THERE YOU HAVE IT.

Song of the day: I'm Happy - Terra Naomi