i used google translation tool, this is what i got:
Nebuchad go to the grave
I've just gone up from my bed because I could not sleep. I hate it when it's that way. It tries and tries but the tanks can not stop spinning. I think I sleep better when I'm totally exhausted but it does perhaps all? Anyway, I decided to finally get to shoot and write my farewell blog. I've thought about it long. I have not exactly updated on which of the good old days (years ago) but I have always had the ambition to keep alive on. But I simply have not had ork. Imagine that you have to ork just to write a bit ... Another reason why I put a blog is that everyone has blogs now and if I'm struggling with a mediocre blog, I get only one in the crowd, even the worst in the crowd. What I really hate more than being unable to fall asleep. Vain, right? Vanity in spite of so I decided to go out and spend a little time on the last blog. I feel I owe both you and myself there. It will be a closure.
I also hereby directed to stop playing poker. The fire and passion I had for poker is now completed. It's like a bonfire that burned all night and now and far into hiss in the morning. Goes there and pokes at it, it can perhaps temporarily flare up to life again, but there is no nourishment to the fire anymore. There are only ashes remain.
It has taken time for myself to recognize it. I have been in almost two years and persuaded me that I should start playing seriously again, but I have always found excuses to put off the whole thing. Excuses is spelled in many different ways, "begins when I moved," "should begin as soon as I arrived in order", "summer is sacred" "Now, I travel a bit," "vacation," "Sailing" and poker tournaments ( which is really an excuse of an apology when the correct name was something completely different for me), and so on. It is really uninteresting except that excuses all the time been a lie. Fixed a lie that I do not really know how to relate to me because it has given me a life. A rich life.
When compared to earlier when I really burned on poker and I was drumming in anticipation of sluggish Windows operating systems would start running so I could play. We would all have been there and experienced this with almost childlike enthusiasm. That excitement and thirst that could only temporarily allayed once we had double-clicked the icon, Ladbrokes and put us at a table. At last action we thought. Some months did we do nothing but sit and play as the days and nights on end when sömmnen became too difficult to mots as we crawled to the sofa / bed, depending on how tired we were, so we continued our party in the dream and took at where we left off!
I have mentioned, or rather "hints" that I should stop playing for my friends and they've told me to go down to lower levels and continue to play but there are two reasons that keeps me away from this. Secondly, it would not change my financial situation more closely. I should not have to work harder in my life, if I play my cards right (the cliché did you get before even I did it!). The second reason why I stop playing is a shame. Going from top to bottom anywhere on the table half and the risk of going out is too much for my vanity psyche. Without exaggerating, I would find it hard to look people in the eye (which I last semester has begun to notice that I have). Here I expect a little laughter from those who read and any sneering comments but there is such I am and I can not hide it. I would not hide it.
Now the blog will continue with little stories. Someone will be to describe my psyche, but most will be about memories.
I played soccer until I was 16 and was considered quite talented when I was 13-14 years. I remember that I was the worst on the team when I started at 9 years old and had fought me up short. Once I was there it happened that happened with the poker. The glow disappeared and I trained less and less and less. in autumn, so I'm not trained at all but only played match. The glow disappeared probably not, but rather focused on the girls instead, and to be as cool as possible, so that smoke, skateboard and go to parties and be wasted. The last game I played so I stole a penalty kick a la Zlatan but missed against archrival Hunnebostrand. I changed shortly thereafter, and blamed an injury and ran into the toilet and crying uncontrollably. I saw the end of my football career (lol). I had seriously believed, so that perhaps most people do when you are young soccer kid, that I would play in the big leagues. I well remember how my friend Emil told me in ninth grade that I had to start exercising more and not just play the game but I told him that I will still be able to play in the headlines and he did reluctantly. LOL! I stopped playing football after the match but began playing again when I was around 20 years. Football is interesting and I wondered for a long time to start walking the steps necessary to become a trainer. A future hobby perhaps?
point of histroien is to show how my vanity psyche works. Maybe I should start playing poker again in 3-4 years and then, without ambition, who knows?
Another time as I reported myself to the class elite in Stromstad-race, which is an annual contest at distance one mil. I think, frankly, not that I can describe in words what a fool / I am a dreamer. I can combine the words and ask the Swedish Academy to add the word "drama" in Swedish. The definition reads: "A person who has too high opinion of himself and becomes hopelessly disappointed if he does not succeed." Without the least spice of history so I started with a bunch of 8-9 Kenyans who had calves that my forearms. The others (thousands?) Had to stand behind a rope that blocked the exercise pen from elite fold. When the cap gun sounded, so did the bang and we were off. The first two kilometers so I hung in and got some new power when I was påhejad of any streets in Stromstad but then died, so I completely. I started walking and when I met two girls who had been at my school so they said laughing, "you go?!". I tried to say something funny back but I did not get to meet their eyes. The shame that flared up in me made me at least temporarily to get me up and I still finished in 41.58. A Kenyan came in at a high 28-time. But I'm still at the moment when sitting as an honorary member of the "lame and the sick feel-sorry-about-to-self-association." Needles to say it was my last race.
Okay, that was the last moaning / självömkandet in the blog. Now, just fun and funny reading. Sorry, I can not bring the most delicious popular pieces from my pokerliv because I know both parents, girlfriend, mother in law and div. others I do not want to be seen in a bad light for reading the few times I write. I'll have to save them for my memoirs which I write in the west wing of my mansion when the oak leaves in the lane up to the fountain has started to get that golden color as they get in at around mid-autumn. When one is so old, it feels good as if you have all the time in the world for just that. But it really is the opposite.
Damn it. Now that you mention it, I will only at those juicy stories. There is much we are proud of the solid yet not if you know what I mean? Okay, changing thrust of the "Best Poker memories".
First place must be of course a pot with high P v Patrik Antonius come. It was the third largest pot in online history for a while and for some time, the third largest NL pot before the games began 500-1000.
I raise with 10c-9c from the button on the turns and I call. We play deep in 165k $ 200-400 HU, ie over 400 bb. The flop is 8-6-7, therefore absolute nuts and money go incredibly in on the flop. I can probably only describe the feeling I had in poker possible, imagine you have aa really deep against a good player. You raise, he raises, you raise, he raises, you raise money again and go in preflop. You think it's almost unreal that he also must have AA and begins to almost get mad to the deck make fun of you. You had wanted to see a vision rather than that of the last raise because you know that would be difficult to release their KK well on a low flop and you do not believe that he set so much with second nuts pre. Something like that, I felt.
I'm up against 8h-9h unless memory fails me. I think he just has a backdoor full house that arena, he is basically drawing dead. 3 outs to a split. Better, I have probably never received it on the flop so deeply ever. We played nine or ten hours or so. He got it in a 200k pot with K-9 off in a enkelraisad pot where I just called with J-10 on board 9-QK. It was only $ 1400 in the pot on the flop and the money went into. Was unfortunately drawn on a river 9 and also prolonged in another 200k pot against a flush draw. He was running good in the session, not me! In addition, my life's bluff on him! Have many great memories to take with me from the days when this was the highest gametes that were on the network except 300-600. A certain hamburger would stubbornly staking me for my superstitions did not want to play Ladbrokes other than where I had not set up a single cent. 40k to 847k in 10 days is the only rocket I made in my life. Otherwise, the gate of course dominated by the small 5 dollar sit and go upwards. That's where I come from, so to speak; gate.
I could draw a lot of other poker pots I played, but do not think you would be interested because it just really is for me it's fun. But I remember them in detail and I remember what I felt.
"The worst poker memory" is probably a fun category, and where I have plenty.
Those who perhaps stands out most is probably well-Scandinavian Poker Awards, where I won a prize for the best online players, and for those of you who have not seen or know about it as it may sound like a good poker memory, but not. When I heard my name be called out by Magnus Persson, I knew only that something would go wrong. It was well Nostradamus ghost who blew a gust of wind on my head. This feeling made me so nervous. In retrospect, this is well to add that it might not be accustomed to the outside world just yet. Well, those who know me know I do not have much pain in me and they are the ones I care about, although I must admit that it was a bit cold to see a full-length picture of himself stuck with Hitler's face, instead of their own at 2 +2. So it can go. I like to think that I have become older and wiser, but the ability to sometimes shoot myself in the back when I open your mouth, I have not quite managed to get rid of. Things sounds a certain way in the head and another when speaking them aloud.
Another bad poker memory is when I lost $ 500 000 in four days. It was of 50-100 and just when I started to play loud. I felt so bad during those four days. Only a 24-hour sitting and then I collapsed on Sovana without having neither eaten, drunk water or gone to the bathroom. The second day, he lost again but this time with water and toilet. After another collapse on the sofa so it was like the third day I get a warm garlic bread and coffee. It did not help much and the fourth day there was a short sitting, and I confessed my defeat. I have probably not felt so bad in my life then I think. Not that I can remember. In retrospect, I wonder what the hell it was I was doing.
But I learned something and came down to earth a bit. Sometimes you need it and a lesson that is hard remains in memory, the longer. There was at least something like I tried to console myself with that moment when I was the next three days and watched the Simpsons and ate the rest of my garlic baguette, a little bit every day. I remember we had some kind of hushjälpsflicka who came to clean up on Sunday and when she saw me on the couch so she said I looked too damned out. Maybe not what I wanted to hear but it was probably what I needed to hear.
She forced me into the shower and told me to shave. I obeyed and then I went out for the first time in a 6-7 days. Do not know if you have tried to sit inside a week without daylight (we had blackout curtains in the living room for the projector's sake) but it's like a whole new world when you step outside the door. You hear sounds that they forget that they exist. People talking, birds, urban sounds, someone who sweep the streets. All these sounds are to OBSERVE about when you were alone in a dark apartment in a week and listening to them as if it was the first time you heard them. A little further down the street so I felt a sudden breeze that chilled my hair that were not completely dry. The smell and atmosphere of our crowded suddenly when I saw some scantily clad girls who went and laughed, or rather twittered (Swedish is not enough). I said aloud, "Fantastic!". Then I began to smile and laugh all the way back. The joy was relieved by a river. Born again, one can say. When I opened the door to the apartment again, I regret that I had activated the smell of the glorious vårdofterna. The poker sweat that trickled out from the living room had been contaminated by itself and was not the welcome I expected. When I went into the living room had met me a wave which made me wonder about a homeless crept into my apartment and died in a corner. The contrast was so powerful that I got sick. I am somewhat sick just by memory but, I offer.
Now, I was actually a bit sick of typing when I lived myself in the past so vividly (dryer to write you know). The last bad memories I have from my "(poker) life", I take a bit fast.
I had just written a bit more here about my accident with a Ferrari but then I deleted it because I discovered just how stupid I would be seen. The ability to shoot himself in the back came in and, well, I learn, apparently. Anyway, it was not mostly my fault though I drove a bit further and I insist that I was wrongly convicted in the subsequent trial. Would appreciate that I was liable to a maximum of 35-40% and this time I was flush against me.
Last was well accident in Thailand. In short, kitesurfing, concussions, brain hemorrhage, broken bones, screws, fly home with the help of SOS. Maybe I was permanently damaged inside the skull but it is difficult to notice the difference if you have already been funny before, or if it has become more weird after. Maybe poker suffered from it, who knows.
Some other events that may be considered as another type of accident (which only affects me, myself and I) have made me a bit paranoid.
Some poker journalists in touch with me and still want to do interviews, but I think it's really hard though I find it hard to say when no, especially since every single person I've met in poker has been very nice and pleasant. I actually count them all as friends, especially of the terrible Turk! There is probably not someone who, when I've met them personally, have not responded to me in a very good way. I'm surprised myself that I never met anyone in poker that I have anything against or who have something against me!?
I was warned early on that they could be the rear part of the media but I have not perceived any back from a poker journalist's side. On the other hand, there is a downside for people who want to be seen, but I can not go into detail on such negative things. Gives you enter the game you get the game stand.
I feel really ready to poker and all the baggage that it meant to be a successful pokerspelare.men I am obviously not happy with everything I've done. It's like after a long poker session and we won but still thinking of some hands that you could have played better. Invested more in one hand or put themselves in the second. But that's just silly to cry over old snuff, and when all is around, it's mostly just snapshots of your life and it is difficult to know how a decision affecting one another. Parallel universes and all that.
I will probably start with something else. What it is I do not know. Perhaps it will be submitting anything, but I have some plans and ideas that I spend time to investigate. I do not want to retire already but I have to be vigilant with my investment because the mistakes I make in the future will be harder to repair than my past mistakes. How can time be both telling and judge whether or print.
P.S. Now when I read my farewell blog so I do not know why I pulled up everything that I wrote when I really just wanted to say that I end up poker, blog, etc. and that I will draw me back completely from everything associated with poker to make. I guess I wanted you to understand me a bit I think. What I was trying to say was short, I'm sick of poker.
When you read this Andrew so I apologize that I have not notified you earlier but I had an impulse to write farewell blog and I did not want to stop the momentum. It is not entirely correct to you at Ladbrokes but that's what has been a bit of my hallmark, just that I do not always completely accurate.
Thanks to me,
Over and out for good.
..
) so he will become a talented amateur. Sounds like a plan if he is happy.