#per ohlin

[sw33tydr4ws]

Mayhem + Columbine 2.0

They would be great friends

[partytillupvke]

Not true crime related but I like the way this piece I did of Pelle turned out and I need to post it somewhere lolz

[rebster3000]

ok

[spitritualr]

close up pelle

[euronymos]

𝟏𝟎/𝟎𝟖/𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟑 — Ø𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖠𝖺𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗁

𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾.

𝖳𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝗐𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 Ø𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖠𝖺𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗁.

𝖫𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖭𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖾𝗀𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽, Ø𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽. 𝖳𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖬𝖺𝗒𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝖧𝖾𝗅𝗏𝖾𝗍𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖣𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖲𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗎𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒, 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗀𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗉𝖾.

𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗒: 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖾.

𝖲𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀, 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗂𝗅𝗍 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗒, 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗅 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗇. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾. 𝖮𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖠𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍.

Ø𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗌, 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗂𝗀𝗒.

𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍, 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾. 𝖧𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖺𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗌, 𝖺𝗍𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅, 𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇.

𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝖺 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾.

𝖡𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾, Ø𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗎𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗅𝗒 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾.

𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗋𝖺. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇.

𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖾𝖽.

𝖨𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖬𝖺𝗒𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅. 𝖨𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖭𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖾𝗀𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗐 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝖾 Ø𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍.

𝖧𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽.

𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀, 𝗇𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗌𝖾.

Ø𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖠𝖺𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗁 𝖽𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝟤𝟧.

𝖸𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄: 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽, 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝟤𝟧 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌.

𝖯𝖾𝗋𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾. 𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 Ø𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽.

𝖧𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝖿𝖿𝗌, 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄, 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖧𝖾𝗅𝗏𝖾𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖣𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖲𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖬𝖺𝗒𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗅𝗅, 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗌.

𝖳𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖾𝖽. 𝖨𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌. 𝖠 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽. 𝖠 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗉𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼. 𝖠 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗆𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗅𝗒 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 Ø𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖠𝖺𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗁 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍.

𝖡𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝖬𝖺𝗒𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖽, 𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆, 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 Ø𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾.

𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒-𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝖧𝖺𝗂𝗅 Ø𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇. 𝗜 𝗠𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗬𝗼𝘂.

Ø𝖸𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖨𝖭 𝖠𝖠𝖱𝖲𝖤𝖳𝖧 𝟤𝟤/𝟢𝟥/𝟣𝟫𝟨𝟪 𝟣𝟢/𝟢𝟪/𝟣𝟫𝟫𝟥

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴.

[kolanisko]

They're going to fight, I swear

[necrnn]

TW: "pelle0hlinsrealwife"

Genuinely feeling bad for Pelle. What did he do to deserve this. Gross.

Probably not even the worst thing she said, I ain't going to read that ϟhi⸸.

[annika-blin-blinsky]

«I’m older than I wish to be

This town holds no more for me

All my life I try to find another way»

I’ve finally started writing down my life experience and reflecting on how my introduction to Per’s life changed me in the most normal yet sometimes absurd ways.

I’ve been thinking about him a lot, but not in the “internet weird” direction, but as a neighbourhood kid that I didn’t know much about.

In my opinion, our culture has popularised the dehumanisation of media and the conception of life & death itself. Nowadays, “we” look at each other or those millions of people on the internet, and “we” don’t see real human beings.

The Overton Window towards people’s death or suicide has worked. So it’s no longer bothering anybody when, on a daily basis, the internet floods with thousands of “kys” comments.

What does all of that mean if talking about Per? He was a victim of his own time. As Dmitry Medvedev once said: “I can only tell you one thing: no one will ever go back to 2007…” Oh, and that means that even if you could go back to 1991, you couldn’t help or even try to save him. Because of his deep emotional pain, because of the amount of pressure from the religious society of the country he lived in. And also, it was not that common knowledge that his sort of “troubles” were solvable.

Now “we” do have a lot of ways of coping with depression, PTSD, anxiety, and suicidal tendencies. Sertraline became a real thing only after 1991, as it was only then when it was accidentally invented as an SSRI (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor). Nowadays it’s one of the most popular antidepressants.

But back when Per was still living, there was no such common thing as therapy. He was born in a society that practiced castration on mentally disabled people, and it ended only after 1976 (the last registered medical operation was around 1976). The mood amongst people in Sweden was not positive towards mental disorders, and so those who had some sort of disorders were stigmatised because of it.

Oh, and yet I’ve forgotten to mention that Per had an episode of clinical death and bullying, which made him obsessed with death. Suicidomania was one of his character traits. I can’t claim anything for sure, but I firmly believe in his comorbidity.

Per lived already 34 years ago, and as we know, it was intense, like it always is. So it’s extremely difficult to collect all the data from the pre-public internet world. But I’ll try my best to do what I can. The story of how he lived, how he died, and what we have now, 34 years later, has forever changed my way of looking at things.

I’ll try to write more about “that specific photo” of him later and what lesson I’ve learned from it. Don’t blame yourself for maybe owning it; I guess your experience is just right behind next door.

I’m not doing my research to prove anything; I’m just trying to destigmatise people and their pain (myself included) because nobody wants to die, they only want to stop hurting. It’s not funny or even cool if you thought of suicide because of him. It’s not human-like to make fun of someone who felt disconnected and alone that much, so they committed suicide because of Per.

And if you thinking of suicide - he’ll never see your pain and feelings and how edgy your tshirt looks, but those who still breathe will. Be careful with yourself and others.

You will never know what will happen tomorrow <3