#seventyfirst post

[maxinlife]

Seventyfirst post

A while ago, I wrote piece about my time in Luft. 

Jag halkade in i valberedningen som sammankallande

Under flera år åkte jag på arrangemanget som jag senare kom att ta över, Tåpar. Men jag hade aldrig varit på myslägret, aldrig varit på ett Luftating. Flera i mitt roverlag coRleoneS åkte tidigare varit på några ting, jag backade alltid ur.

Mitt första Luftating som jag närvarade på blev 2010 års ting Fäst(t)ing. Det blev ett så kallat startskott. Jag halkade in i valberedningen som sammankallande.

Året därpå åkte jag på myslägret, lurades med på Luftabussen upp till Stockholm på Rikstinget. Jag skapade Luftakanalen för att publicera videor från arrangemang. Samtidigt hjälpte jag till att hålla ordning på Luftashoppen. Mitt roverlag stod för delar av underhållningen på 2011 års Luftating TINGaling.

Jag valdes in i Luftakommittén .

Luft var då fortfarande en del av KFUM. Jag skulle ta hand om infoposten med Airnews och vår dåvarande hemsida som mitt huvudsakliga arbete.

Jag kandiderade alltså en tredje gång

2012 hade Luft mycket med lägret Wild Wild West Tjugotolv att göra. Det fanns en stor del av luftascouter som hade hand om UtRo-delen. Jag var PR/Info-ledare. Det började ske förändringar i scoutsverige. Förbunden skulle gå samman till ett. Vi visste att KFUM Scout skulle avvecklas och jobbade på en lösning, Luft stod vid ett vägskäl. Vi valde det självklara, att fortsätta med roverscouting.

Inför 2013 stod vi på svajiga fötter. Vi hade brutit med det gamla och påbörjade vårt arbete kring att bli en rovergrupp i Skåneregionen. Jag hade själv bestämt mig för att kandidera till LK en period till för att säkra Lufts existens och verka för rovers. Detta året tog jag även på mig rollen som Vice Ordförande, en roll som jag haft sedan dess.

Under 2014 hade vi kontakt med distrikten, vi började arbetet för hur Luft skulle fungera.

Förra året, det vill säga 2015, var jag nästan nöjd med min insats. Men några frågetecken stod fortfarande böjda och jag ville räta ut dem. Jag kandiderade alltså en tredje gång.

Tiden är nu inne, Luft har etablerat sig i den nya organisationen och det är dags att lämna vidare till andra som kan göra Luft och Luftakommittén ännu bättre i framtiden.

Det gäller att vända fikadöden, till fikaglöden Max Björkegren, oktober 2016

[original post]

[ramblingsofafool]

Waiting

At the ripe old age of 15, I had started losing hope of finding love (a bit early, but I had always tended towards overanalyzing and overreacting). I feared that I simply had not the capability to feel love. No girl made my heart skip a beat. Nor guy for that matter. I was so desperate for love because I thought that my significant other would be able to heal the hole in my heart left by familial bickering and other disputes that day after day threw my happiness piece by piece out the window. No matter what academic achievement or momentary joy I obtained, one thing or another would lead further down a downward spiral of pain. From being yelled at for not doing something right to the threat of divorce ringing through my bedroom’s walls, there was always something obstructing my path to being even the tiniest bit happy. But then I met you. At first we just merely had a few classes together and had never really gone beyond acquaintances, but these few classes together brought us to friends. I thought we were just friends and that we spent a lot of time together due to the fact that neither of us knew any of the others in the class. It wasn’t until that one day after something as simple as a 3 day weekend that I realized. When I saw you walk into the school my face just burned. I hadn’t seen you for a couple of days and that feeling of reuniting with you made me feel something—something foreign and unfamiliar, but so pleasant. I wanted to feel it again. And that I did. For the few following months, your smile, your friend derived teasing, your compliments for me. All would make me burn red and speed up my heartbeat. Every day, I more and more believed that I was just absolutely in love with you. That summer was a long one. I talked a bit with you here and there, but no further. The year after on the first day of school, my emotions that had almost burned out over the long period of separation, resurfaced within a split second. Throughout the year, we were just inseparable. I made it my effort to talk to you as much as I can without coming off as weird or annoying. To stay with you for anything and anywhere I could without coming off as a clingy friend. Whenever you weren’t there, whether due to sickness or some extracurricular you were in that I was not, my heart ached of loneliness and trembled of anticipation of the next day. Tomorrow when you would hopefully come back. Every day, I resolutely held onto my facade as a friend (which I was proud of being), but my willpower was slowing weathering away as I felt the desire to be more building up. As much as I wanted to be more than just friends, I feared that I would lose you. That moment when I would confess. I ran through possible outcomes. That look of surprise. Of pity. Of disgust. Of disdain. Of awkwardness. Of reciprocation. I could only consider the pessimistic options. I could nkt stand the idea of not seeing you. Of not talking to you. Of having you avoid me because of dislike. That would shatter what little bit of heart I had left, so I bottled myself up and hoped that I would get a sign that you liked me back. And even now at the age of 17 , I still wait in my bottle for that one day that may never come where you tell me of your love or where I build up enough courage or fear another taking you enough to reveal the truth. I’m prepared to wait indefinitely, as long as my heart can take it.