valentine’s day full of broken roses ** new video **

The title might give you a wee misconception about some bad valentine’s day. That’s not the truth. I don’t much believe in the holidays, especially those that don’t give me a day off from work. ‘Cause that ain’t a damn holiday – then it’s just some sad money grabbing attempt at making people feel lonely, feel set apart and dead inside or make ’em feel like they need to prove they love that cheating bastard on the sofa. Pointless.
Every day is a gift if you got the right fish in the tank, that’s all I’m saying.

Anyway, as I said, that’s not really strictly what this post is about. I’ve strongly been considering getting rid of this blog and my other social media profiles. Not because I don’t enjoy them – I enjoy my blog and I enjoy making videos on YouTube, hell I even like Instagram on occasion. However, it starts to make everything feel pressured. Make life look good, make that angle pretty and taught and for heaven’s sake stop me looking like some old failure in a cape. I think we all become guilty of feeling like our feeds have to look a particular way, shape or form – it has to paint us as these perfect beings without a moment’s thought for broken convictions. And as someone more broken than most – I find that hard to look at, knowing how false it is. People copying one another and only doing certain things to see if their following picks up. It’s damn sad.

Truly I don’t know why I have a blog at all. I’m unfriendly, occasionally guilty of being unfeeling toward others and I’m an incredibly private person. The strange part is – that I like blogging. Why they hell do I like it, do you suppose? The free flow of words that won’t make it into books but have still been said – that’s what I like. For those of you who follow me on Instagram you’ll have noticed and read my stories. I cut the ties to the folks who follow me in hopes of follows back, the accounts that were simply there for numbers sake and so forth. I deleted the negative unreal posts from my feed. The numbers don’t matter, which i knew already, but now the constat itch is gone. Now my feed is of all those good souls sharing the important small moments of their life and being honest when times are hard, when times are sad and when that little glimmer of hope comes to them as if from nowhere. That’s what it’s for. Not all that competition bullshit.

Oh hell, it’s Valentine’s Day. So let’s move on!
Today Jack and I will be getting tattoos. We originally had no plans for Valentine’s Day — not any that were different from any other day. Have dinner together, talk about our day, laugh and comfort each other. Finish the night with Disney films, Miami vice or a good swashbuckling film about pirates and ships. However, we went to get tattoos a few weeks ago – our artist was swamped with appointments and we wanted a few adjustments to our ideas, and so she asked us if we wanted to come back on Valentine’s Day and get them done – so just like that we have plans for today.

And here is a video from our little Valentines day date!

 

** new video! **

Good afternoon everyone! I just posted a new video on youtube. Take a look!
Im hoping to make maybe one video at least every two weeks once i get a consistent system down. And im still working up to making a video from my trip to Denmark.
Anyway, i hope youll go take a look and maybe subscribe. ♡

right now

Right now my website is down again unfortunately. Im not sure what to do about it but with any luck by the time i finish this post it’ll be running.
I’ve spent most of my day so far cooking breakfast and washing our clothes. We took a quick ride to walmart to get some medicine as Jack and i are already sick after being home for 5 days. Can you believe it? I caught something from work because someone doesn’t know how to keep their coughs to themselves — the first week back at work drug out like a son of a bitch, and i’m already dreading Monday. The week was tough. It almost made it feel like my time in Denmark never happened. But as my mum says .. it did happen. And i’m thankful for it.

Sometimes going home is bittersweet. It turns me through loops and confuses me; the whole ordeal of leaving and saying goodbye to my loved ones takes a good 10 years off me every time, and by that logic i should be dead last week. Now that my parents have a homestead there, it was different. It was like “living” in Denmark rather than just having a holiday, and i preferred it that way.  If i were a money deep author i’d live half/half in Denmark & Texas, but alas i’m not. I’m incredibly close to finishing my novel, and i mean very close. I write mostly at work and obviously i’m consistently interrupted so i lose concentration. When i get home in the evenings i’m so mentally exhausted that if i had to bare my soul on the page i’d simply slip away and give in. Theres only so much i can take at once. As you well know, i’m not built for captivity. In an office i’m a wasted resource and i often find myself misplaced, but one must pay for the privilege of living well; and i will never look down my nose at that. Actors and authors must pay their way with jobs no one wants — and as i happen to be both i’m twice as punished.

(insert rant here for good measure)
Unfortunately, much to my great regret, i had to cancel my class that was going to start on the 27th of January. I did everything within my power to make it work and jumped through every hoop thrown at me by the university. I got stressed out with the people i had to deal with as very little information was available and for the longest time they didn’t even know how to sign me up for said class. I was told to contact a hundred different people, each other passing me off to someone else who had no idea how to wash themselves let alone how to help me utilise my benefits.  I asked what was required of me through admissions in October — and they were still making up new rules as of this week. I was so tired of running around for them and knowing they still would fuck something else up, that i simply cashed it in. I went to get shots just to be able to be a student (I work at the university so this really made NO sense), i put in all my paperwork and everything. Then this week i received a bill for the first month of the class for $1000. And i about lost my fucking rag. Literally.
“Hell fucking no.”
And i contacted anyone i could about it. “Oh those are hidden fees for the class. You have to pay iff your class is more than 6 credit hours.”
The class i chose was merely 4. Almost the entire experience was retarded. I kept on with it because i desperately wanted to give myself the class as a gift, but at that the cost of the stress and whatever else? Fuck that shit. Not to mention the class is supposed to be free for employees. Needless to say — universities still aren’t for me. Jesus christ. Blasphemy and what not.
I hate that it seems like i complain a lot lately but i don’t see the point in painting life to be some flower with full petals, when it simply isn’t. Going to university was NEVER the right decision for me; i would feel very very trapped. I only took this class because it would be 5 months of my life and it was in a subject i felt passionately about and always wanted to try, but for some reason this university doesn’t function very well — i hate to say it but truly.
So i went ahead and tried to cancel my class, only to find out a new hold had been put on my account so i couldn’t access it. Apparently i hadn’t had my Immunisations yet. But i had them sorted out in November and i provided proof of my other ones from England & Denmark… i went into the student health office specifically (they originally messed up my payment and charged me $85 instead $5 dollars which i eventually got back) and they had zero record of me having ever been there. I mean.. At this point you couldn’t make this shit up. Not to mention i had this issue once already, which led me to go and get the shots done in the first place and they took the hold off in December.

But fear not — its not all gone to shit. Yet. I immediately signed up for the Farrier School that same day. I’m just waiting to hear back from them whether or not i get in; fingers crossed. I believe it will take a few weeks to hear back. That is the one thing i truly care about and is very important to me; if it goes well and i like it well enough, i plan to attend a full 8 week class in Texas when i save up the money. Though if i don’t get in — so be it. Then i suppose its not meant to be and i’ll stick to the acting, writing and whatever the hell else it is i do.
Today i started working out again and i feel so much better afterwards, that and writing is the best and most effective therapy to date.
My spirit is not broken and all is not lost. The future comes whether we ask her to or not. Thank goodness for that.
I hope you have a happy weekend.

Country house
The house in Denmark
People by a lake
My mum showing us around the grounds, and thats there is the dude sitting his coffee by the lake and abiding.
Wilting flowers
Danish mornings are the most promising
Prettiest Kitty
My cat Daisy contemplating whether to talk to me or not since i’ve been gone so long. My parents called her Izabella in the beginning because she wouldn’t share food and acted like a feline version of me. This never changed. While i was there it was constantly “Bel — nej Daisy!” “Daisy?” “øh, jeg hedder altså Izabella men ok.”
handsome cat
My sweet Charlie. I truly love my cats and though they live happily with my parents, a day doesn’t go by where i don’t miss them terribly. They are the most wonderful creatures. If i could have them and Basil with me for the rest of my life; why i’d be so lucky.

old bow leg

Well, as you can see I found a home in Wyoming. A place that is enough to possibly persuade me to stop running one day. If Wyoming were an ocean I would spend my life trying to drink it, whether the salt would burn and poison me would be trivial. Though even New England where the sea was close — I found myself missing the sea because it was so cramp and full of tourists. It was never like those cold nights alone on Sand Bay beach. Thousands of miles from me now and years of memories past.
Here there is no ocean or tall ships, there is only waves and waves of empty prairie. And for now I shall have to get my oceanic fix when I fly home to Denmark or you know.. if I ever get lucky enough to take a holiday to Saint Vincent where the sea is blue and the sand is whiter than I am.

I could never choose what I loved most or what I wanted to do. And so I told the world to go fuck itself.
I’ll do it all.
And I have.

I’ve sailed with pirates and commodores. Ive ridden horses on the Texas front and I’ve been the clown I was born to be. These days I find myself in a strange state of mind. A happiness wrapped in dark melancholy that is oddly comforting.
I have a job that pays me and will fund every dream from now. I have the west and I find my dreams coming true even weekly. But when you are a part of so many things that make your heart pump a million, there is always something missing.
Today is not a day that I will sail. Nor is tomorrow. But there will be a day when I see the sea and we’ll kiss like we always do.

I don’t know what kind of believer I am, but I know things do happen. And one thing that happened most recently, something that shook me to my core, was that I met a horse.. a horse that captured me like a sail from a mast holding the wind. An old man whom I call Old Bowleg. Im sure local photographers have an actual name for him, but I gave him this one.
A majestic horse that has seen war with half his ear chewed from its cartilage and a leg bent all out of shape. Yet still he stands as tall as the trees at the bottom of a valley. Still he knows the favorable wind and it flows through his mane. If there was a god — he walks this earth with a bowleg. Now that is something I can believe in.
He was a painting. He was an old chieftain without his tribe. I believe that he had been run off from his mares by a younger suitor. So out there on top of the mountain I found him. Between the reeds and the straw. This beautiful animal, stronger than any man I’ve ever seen, and his faith never wavered in all his years regardless of the fact that his leg struggled beneath him. It didn’t matter because he could fly.


If I had had the time to sit and talk with him a while I would have, but alas it was not be this time. If he Is still alive when the summer comes I shall look for him and maybe I am destined to look for him for an eternity. If that is the way, so be it. But how grateful I am to have seen him even for a moment, it seemed but a second. He was what I always dreamed a true American mustang must be. What America was and can be again. Thats unfair. America is a wonderful place, but the politics — the never fucking ending political bullshit is nonsense. And so I don’t think about it. I think about what I see and what I feel.

And that horse, that day — he took something from me and since I saw him I haven’t been able to stop feeling like I wanted to run back. I don’t relate to people. Thats not my business. Animals, its always the animals. They have me in a vice. Bowleg gave me something… a vision. I will remember him as my spirit horse — the one who taught me that though I have been pained and wounded it doesn’t have to stop me. It doesn’t have to define me. As long as I remember.
Remember. Remember. Remember.
To as true to you as you can be.
It doesn’t matter what Agatha did or what Johnson said. Riley can go fuck himself. What matters today and tomorrow is what you are.

No one can take that from me. And no one can take it from you.
Wopila!

all trails lead to laramie

Its been a few months since we found out we were moving.
We’d been waiting so long it felt like it was never going to happen. The sun and moon set a million times too many, but finally the sun rose to her peak and we were given the news.  It was between two places originally, but all our trails are leading us to the truest west the USA could offer.  To the land where Calamity Jane has  been seen flouncing around from bar to bar and riding from town to town. Where the railroad towns were built, and stand there still amidst the windy plains the little hells on wheels. The Cowboy State of America and where there isn’t an abundance of people to bother us.
All our trails are leading us to Laramie, Wyoming. The land of the wild mustang, buffalo (bison to you sticklers for accuracy) and the notorious grizzly bear, who isn’t too scary to an angry mother moose.

The beginning.

We all know i’m terrible at blogging. Not a secret and no point beating around the red-bush about it.  It’s just not my kind of writing and thats why i keep trying. I never could keep a damn diary either, i always ended up doodling naked ladies, making notes for plays/stories and writing poetry. I did desperately want to though however, because pretty girls on telly kept diaries. Normal people kept diaries. That was never supposed to me. I was a short little thing with pigtails (before i cut them off), scraped knees, big front teeth and freckles all over my nose. I couldn’t keep a diary because i was too fucking busy fighting the royal navy on the beach, burying treasure, climbing trees to see how far away my house was and digging till i reached China. And for that reason and many others, i haven’t been writing things down as i meant too. Nevertheless i’m doing it now whether or not i ever reach that great wall of China.

Pimples, periods and packing. The three p’s that don’t fucking mix.

I don’t know how i got through the last few weeks of New England, it might just be me but when i know i’m leaving i just want to get up and go. So staying at my job for as long as i did after i found out there was a light at the end of the tunnel — was an utter nightmare. The job was hard enough to go to everyday as it was haha, but when freedom came waving her skirts i could barely sit still. Im glad that job was over. Hot damn it was hell. IF you’ve ever been the most intelligent and normal human being at a job you know what i mean. Being surrounded by rich scientists who think they are somebody because they spend a sugar tone of money and name drop like popping pimples, the worst. And you’d think they had some form of common sense. But i digress.

Bennett Way and her bright lights.

The closer we came to leaving the more sleepless nights i had, so i’d wake up and watch the sunrise and pack the last few bits and bobs in the apartment, all the while dreaming and planning and thinking how different things will be. I really hoped that i would be re-inspired once i got to Wyoming and find a place that i felt i could stay in. New Hampshire was just hard. Jack was lucky enough to be surrounded by some great guys at work whereas for me, as per usual, i managed to find every crazy person from every rock that had something to say. And they were all my bosses and what a fucking joke. In truth i am a nice person i suppose, but i just don’t deal with bullshit well, in fact i choose not to deal with it and just disappear. Once i’m done with something — im absolutely done and we were done with New England a couple of years ago. I will say though, that the last few months of my job i spent 8 to 5 writing and writing and writing and writing. And i took the money like someone kind of sneaky whore with an STI.
Ask me if i have any regrets.
I would love to write for a living. How do i make that happen?

Our little apartment is almost packed.
Where we loaded our trailer that would go on to Wyoming without us.
Almost dead after two days of loading Uhauls and trailers in 123901283901283 degree heat and humidity.
A welcome break from packing, loading, cleaning and so forth.

On August 14 we moved everything from our Uhaul to our ABF trailer that we rented for the trip. Originally we thought about just getting a Uhaul van with a trailer for the car, but we wanted to travel in luxury this time. When we moved from Texas to New Hampshire we had to blast right through every state faster than a scared dog. So this time, we did it differently. We loaded a Uhaul with all our belongings, drove them down to Massachusetts and loaded them onto the trailer, because the trailer couldn’t make it into our badly set up apartment parking. The trailer was then moved for us and arrived here in Wyoming a few days ago. Easy as taking a shit after a curry and only yesterday morning did they come and pick it up without a fuss. It was well worth it in my opinion. All we had to worry about was the car and ourselves on the way. So we could stop wherever and whenever we wanted to. And we did! That is another blog post entirely and that’ll be coming up in the next week or so.
All that loading though — kicked my ass. I’m glad i was actively working out every day and working weights or i never would’ve been able to move our things as we did. But now i need to get back on to that without the free gym at the apartment complex. Booooooo.

Something strange is afoot on our last trip to our local circle K in Newmarket.
When we first moved into the apartment and Basil loved to supervise the workmen outside and watch cars go by.

And someone we couldn’t have survived New England without. Someone we have everything to thank for. Basil, who i will no longer think i see at every corner of the apartment as the apartment now belongs to another. That is the cruelest part of the move for me. Feeling like i left Basil behind even though that dog would have gone anywhere with us in life or in spirit. But that is what i will miss. The comfort of knowing Basil lived here with us and that is something that is missing from the new house. The three Musketeers that are but two. But those of us who have been so lucky to have a dog — we know they never truly leave until we are ready to go with them. And Basil will forever be at my feet, on my lap and in every sundown and dream. Because that was Basil. Leaving New England is in part also a way to force me to move on and stop lingering for him to return.

I’m lucky he was mine and how we love each other, even in death.

I am a man of constant sorrow — it’s true.

We left New England on the 16th of August and arrived on the 21st tired, with a million adventures under our belts already and a positive first impression. I could write about everyday on the road if i wanted, but i’m not that kind of person. If i wouldn’t read it myself i wont write it. Just as i wont post every single picture i took of us just driving, because how dull. What i can tell you is that having someone, who changes everything, to drive two thousands miles with should be on everyones bucket list. We made like Jack Kerouac and made the road our life. We drove through every storm and swore at every traffic jam. I was surprised at the prices of each fucking toll — money grabbers! And we watched every sunset from all the Holiday Inns from Wyoming to New York.

We drove through 2 or 3 tornado warnings, but other than that the weather was perfect the whole way.
Find someone worth travelling thousands of miles with.
The sundown over New York.
Somewhere in Pennsylvania.
Entering Knox County, Illinois.
Winterset, Iowa.

I can’t fully explain in words yet, what it felt like to finally be back in Old West country. When the mass of buildings started to dwindle and cars were replaced by cows and bison. When there were more horses than people. And when a horizon kissed our foreheads for what seemed the first time in 4 years as we drove to our new adventure. Country accents laced with hospitality you just don’t find anywhere else. Attentive service at the local eateries and free beer for a cock up. That’ll take me a month or two to comprehend — to find that this was real.

A view of Omaha Nebraska from our room in Iowa. Below us is the Missouri river.
Almost at our new hell on wheels home. <3 This is Cheyenne, Wyoming where we spent the last night before reaching Laramie.
Rugged country.
Out of focus, but we arrived safely to the Cowboy State!
Our new home!
The first Wyoming sundown.

These aren’t the only pictures i took but as i said, I wont show you everything because some of it is just mine. Maybe in another post later on when the dust has settled. I think this is the furthest i’ve ever been from little Jylland in Denmark. The furtherest from my family i’ll probably ever be and of course this will most likely be where i stay. Thats not a reflection on my family, but for some reason this was just where my heart stopped weeping. A place i didn’t feel my spirit was sore.
We travelled from New Hampshire, Massachesetts, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska and finally found our Wyo. Everything went as planned it.
Some of our things were a little scratched up and worse for wear when the trailer arrived but that was our fault, i can’t fault the service at all. We probably wont do it again though because we wont be doing another cross country move.
I’m sure someone in your life has told you, that everything is a learning curve? You wont get it a hundred percent straight off the bat and if you do, i have to wonder whose paying and whose doing the work for you.

Danish kid back in the country.

And so, here i am. Back in my boots and hat and plaid and new wrangler jeans, and god damn proud of it. Sitting in our backyard no less. Our trip here was a trip of a lifetime, a trip people fly to America to do. We crossed out 4 to 5 things from our bucket-list if not more along the way. The strangest thing for me is that some of these bucket list dreams i dreamt about when America was just a mythical place beyond the water that i never truly wanted to visit, because i didn’t want to fall in love and end up never moving back to Denmark.  Life knew better, didn’t he?

Well, thats it from me for today.  I have a mountain of unpacking to do and some breakfast to make. Soon i’ll have the vlog ready that accompanies this particular post and i’ll probably be working on that today and the rest of this week.

Until then.
Until then.
Until then.
Coming soon to Youtube — All Trails Lead to Laramie Vlog