They say marriage makes people better.

That sharing everything with someone is the measure to true happiness, and that without someone by their side man is only half of what he might be. Or is supposed to be, as my friend says. Well they don’t give you answers, just opinions. This goes to everyone, even your family. Opinions on the other hand just raise more questions. At least that is how I feel. I tried asking some friend of mine about this, but she said that for her, other peoples opinions are just opinions that she respects, but they have no effect what so ever on her life. She’s a bit shallow though, or so I like to think of her. Maybe it’s me being pretentious, but in a naive way I feel that in some circumstances I am a bit superior to all the people around me, this from an outsiders view. Not such a bad thing to say thinking of it, everyone’s good at something, an as they say, there’s always someone who’s better than you, the point is how you take it. And what defines whether you’re good or bad. Well that’s just subjective. I don’t take anything for granted. I guess I’ve grown to it. No wait, perhaps one thing; it’s given that some things are taken for granted. Though it doesn’t make them that way. Frankly though, I’ll restrain from this subject now that my friend is here. He gets a headache from all of it. And I know, useless words don’t really take you anywhere. 
 Makes you wonder why everyone sees small talk as a must within social relationships. I guess we’re all here for the leisure, not the rational suggestion-deduction goal-achievement ideology. Which is probably what keeps us alive, who’s to know... Well, writing this, I have a hunch that I will, and pretty soon. No idea when or where, but it’s like, well, you know those people who have a dream. A dream where they win the lottery. But they’re still suspicious, as they should be. Then the next night they have a dream where they finally see the numbers they are to pick. A proof of something that leaves nothing to question, as long as you have faith. And then they go and write these down on a ticket, wait two days and come home five million times richer.
 Well, I think I had one of those dreams, but not in the concrete form that was the latter dream of my example, but say, three or four times the predicting dream, in a reoccurring sense, and I’m eagerly waiting for the last promise. Well, I suppose acknowledging the issue the way I do is actually disturbing my mind to the point where I find myself imagining the dream to come while waiting for sleep. Lying in my bed in the dark, the time being way past midnight, yet daydreaming. It’s like longing for lust, or rather the desire to be loved, while there’s nothing in sight that would touch you as you would like it to. And then at the time you don't even know what it is that you do want. You’re just waiting for it to happen. So you imagine different shapes and forms in your head, try to make them vivid. You see people you know, faceless, and you ponder the sides on them that would be the key to solve the puzzle, yet not able to get all the information together. Some of us play with sounds. I like to count myself as one of those people. At times when I have ideas while daydreaming, I give up trying to fall asleep and try to combine my ideas and thoughts into a song or just some tune that would later be the key that I’ve been looking for. To develop the short tune into a song following the same lines indicated earlier. But most of the time I can’t. And by this I mean, I believe music is a poem. There’s hardly anyone who could see the whole poem in front of them before writing it down. And while writing, it gives you the time to think of what you’re trying to achieve. For some, trying ruins the experience, and those are the people who don’t write poems. Then the blessed ones that grow richer through the same experience and find ways to resolve their own ideas are the ones that we call poets. It’s not ingeniousness, it’s something deeper that doesn’t dwell in the, what I like to call, surface level, unlike all this concrete that we call genial, physics, maths, the rational side of it.
 Well, as said, the same goes to music. You hear a tune in your head, and immediately after you hear it or analyse it deep within you, you start developing it further, and there you have it, a song. One that tells you your ideas, if you’re happy with it. Well I haven’t been for a while. It’s all just experimenting with ideas, writing down images and words from my daydreams, dwelling in frustration. I’ve also resorted to looking at old photographs, to see if something matches. Not yet, but it’s at the same time driving me mad and getting me all thrilled, on goosebumps. This is one of the things I don’t tell people, not yet anyway. When the time comes, everything will be said, all the ‘I love you’s, ‘I hate you’s, ‘I’m leaving’s and ‘I’m coming home’s.
 I like to speculate. Maybe it comes from what I already mentioned. The simple everyday things that my friends take as ultimate truths are somewhat less familiar to me. My friend wants to get married too, just like her mother and father did two years before she was born. That’s 21 and a half years ago. She thinks life for them is like dancing on roses. I don’t know. I’m having a hard time believing in it. Oh, don’t take me as a pessimist, of course I want everyone to be happy, and I wish them all the best. But seeing as how I’ve never ever known anyone who would seem happier with someone on their side, or anyone who’d be happily married as it is. My own parents never divorced. In fact they were never married. But I never wondered why. I never saw a reason why they should be. Maybe because neither of them did, so I never grew up to think of it. To me the situation is natural, and a thing you see everyday, in the media, on the streets, on silly tv shows and bad b-class movies. So it must be everyday life, don’t people always act the way others do, to not seem too different and therefore be noted as a freak and get discriminated? I’ve also seen couples forming around me, my friends “finding” each other. I put that word under quotation marks because it’s not a word I would use but people do, so I suppose you will too. Well, some find each other for two months, then it all ends in misery. Some are together for longer, and the longer they are, the more it hurts in the end. Not momentarily, but in a long run. The deepest wounds take longer to heal. It’s like sliding a sword into your stomach little by little and then quickly drawing it out.
  No, I’ve seen my friend’s parents upset and mad at each other. Sure, they might be in love, but what is love after 20 years? Yeah, it is a blessing, if you believe in these kinds of things. I called it getting used to someone else's presence. And that’s what makes me wonder. If you can coexist with someone because you are used to them, why not do that alone, seeing as a lonesome soul has 50 percent less things to worry about. So you grow into someone and realise you want a child together. You want something to either save your love, something to make it stronger, or as the final signature into the agreement of all that is your love. Or sure it may be just the biological clock ticking in your head that makes you want to reproduce while you still can, and bring another mouth to feed. It’s a lovely thing to do really, but somehow it all seems so distant when I really think of it. I don’t wish it was, it’s not like being as I am makes me happier than what they are. It’s not for me to say who’s happy.
 As I draw back a bit and take a deep breath I realise my friend is expecting a reply to his question. He still sits there in front of me, playing random notes on my guitar, just out of curiosity. Well, he can’t play, but he can think, we all can. And they say everyone knows music, they just need to be shown how to. I had a friend once, who according to his own words didn’t listen to music. I was astonished. It’s become a common thing to do, listening to music. It’s like, “how often do you eat?” is comparable with the question “what music do you listen to?”. Well he didn’t. But I do think he does enjoy some music and loathe some other, as we all do. Just like our dog won’t eat carrots but likes a juicy lamb chop. Same goes to lot of men too. The thought makes me smile.
 Well my friend here is pretty normal, and believe it or not, he’s got some girl he needs to talk about. When we were in school it was easy to have a crush on someone, of course, we were in touch on a daily basis. So everyone grew a relationship with each other, found things to fancy in the other one, sometimes so many that he or she stood up from the crowd. But nowadays you hardly ever meet people. It is said that 20 percent of couples are formed in bars or nightclubs. The next biggest is through friends, work, university. Well there you have it; a shallow one and a circumstantial one. Some consider themselves more lucky than others, who knows. Anyway, the forming or such relationships has changed its course. Now it’s this old friend of his he met at a party. All I can say is go for it, I’m quite sure he won’t, that’s how he is, rather shy, and never gets anything done with girls.
 I don’t really see what’s there to be afraid of. I think the idea of approaching a friend is a bit challenging, socially, seeing as you have a safe solid status as a good mate or so, and wanting something more could in worst case shatter the floor under the current relationship or bring the two to a new level. You never know, but people seem to be more afraid of the loss than what they want from the win. I think it’s sensible, to a certain degree, but what’s really mysterious is the thing with complete strangers. Most people find it utterly challenging to approach an attractive stranger, even though the loss would only extend to never seeing her again as they never did before. Suppose it’s a self-esteem issue. Being turned down by people isn’t good. Well I think it is, makes people less afraid of it, and hey, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. But social acceptance is what everyone is after. I explained this earlier, right? Well the same thing applies to the earlier example of coupling up with your friend or someone you know. A solid social status is reached after a lot of work so it’s not something that you want to lose.
 I decided I’ll help my friend when it comes to planning of proportions of his actions and I’ll be there to support him what ever he chooses to do. So I encouraged him to do as he wishes to, and pointed out that it can’t really get worse.
 “You’ve seen all the tv shows where a person is miserable just because he loves this girl that is his best friend, and can’t get peace of mind unless she’s told how he feels. And how they knowing you did something for it, even though she didn’t feel the same way about you.

So it’s been a week now

since I last spoke to you like this. Nothing has really happened. You see, it really is just weekends that have something in a persons life that is worth mentioning. From Monday to Friday you’re just casual. Wake up in the morning, eat, work, eat, go jogging if that’s how you want it, disengage your mind from the day’s stressful happenings by watching tv and then relax the rest of the evening with a cup of tea in your hand, waiting for it to cool down a bit so you could easily drink it sip by sip, but not too cool so that the taste would make it impossible to swallow. I drink a lot of tea. It’s one of the few things that seem minor when mentioned but is in fact crucial to my self-caused need of well-being. I feel relaxed when I have my cup of tea with me. Preferably some bread or crackers to go, but not after eleven o’clock in the night.
 It’s also something that keeps my mind flowing, see, with a cup of tea in my hand I find it a lot easier to concentrate, no matter on what. I know most of this is not true. It’s like saying you need to have your lucky shoes on to be able to get good results in a running test. But however rational I like to think myself, I must admit, every now and then, that I’m also subject to human feelings and emotions, also the fragility of an independent mind. No-one really is an übermensch, as to speak.
 There are things that you carry around you at all times, things that you might think of as characteristic only for you. Well, it seems at the moment, that my insomnia is one of those that isn’t s easy to get rid of. And I’m afraid my placebo tea-addiction isn’t helping, after all, it does have some waking effects. Also, I find myself having the need to go to the toilet more often, now that I drink a lot. Well, at the moment I’m up again, and it’s 4:36 in the morning. Basically it makes no sense, but you can’t always choose how to act.
 I woke up, or more likely never fell asleep, but gave up after two hours of spinning around in my bed. I took my phone and played some games on it. If that doesn’t do it for me I usually give up, as I did today. But as mentioned, I often concentrate on music once I realise that sleeping is no option at that time. today however I’m not writing any music, I’m listening to it. Good music has a soothing effect on me. There are some songs I’d usually not listen to, but sometimes they help me at times like this. Oh well, it’s all part of the feeling. Anyway, it’s Sunday, or should I say Monday at this hour already. The weekend was nothing unusual, nor was my week. I mentioned earlier this recurring dream that I have and yet don’t. Well, as far as I see it, there’s nothing new on those aspects. I’d love to tell you I’ve gotten over it, but frankly it is the reason to my insomnia. Or that’s my interpretation. People don’t know, so they just tell me to drink warm milk or read a book. Some four to five beers seems to be away of forgetting the dreaming and falling asleep pretty well, but it’s not really healthy, especially during weeks that you have to work. Someone even said I should try some pills. I find myself thinking negatively about medication. There is a line between natural sleep and fake one, even though it might be too thin for a man to recognise. possible solution. Sleeping as itself isn’t a problem really after the three hours of trying to fall asleep, it’s the fact that after every short night there’s an early awakening to a new morning, and basically without the rest you need, you’ll be all stressed up, anxious, tired and irritated. I know I am.
 Anyway, as I predicted, my friend did nothing about his issue. We were out this weekend, Saturday night in fact. Just another night out to at least once a week take your mind out of all the fake important things that you call everyday life. Well as it was to happen, we met our other acquaintances, one of whom was the subject of my friends interest, the girl mentioned before. He did nothing though. I told him this was his chance, but he thought he’d be better postponing it a bit. He seemed to enjoy himself alone just as well that day, so I figured it’d be all right to let him sleep on the decision.
 I’m still pondering my own possibilities. I feel a storm coming. It’s like this feeling in my guts. Something unstable, something arousing and wild. I always get excited when there’s dark clouds above me. It’s something really depressing alongside with something really majestic. People are not meant to like the rain, that’s for sure. I mean, we get wet. Wet clothes are uncomfortable, and I’d be ready to assure you, that no-one would wear clothes in the rain if they really liked the rain or didn’t mind the consequences. Well, that and you get ill. Deep down there’s a tiny hedonist in every one of us. Think of it this way; when it’s warm, you’re allowed to move around without the fear of getting wet or catching a cold. It’s also possible for everyone to wear less clothes, which in a way is a lot more comfortable that dragging heavy arsenal around you just to isolate your body from the surroundings. At the same time it’s basically your inner desire to go back to the nature.
 But a storm is something that actually catches everyone's attention. You see, it’s one of the things we call natures strongest showdowns. An ultimate phenomenon. Some admire it and some are afraid if it. I’m basically somewhere in between the both. I don’t actually know what to expect, I just feel the pressure and the anxiety forming, the tension that carves my nerves and does everything but ease my situation. I’m not sure how to take it. I always thought wind means or represents a change. It’s a change of phases. A current that captures everything on it’s way and brings something new to replace that. There’s a saying, new winds are blowing, as if wind was something that consists of the presence that is us, our lives, even our belongings or our emotional life. After the change the wind settles down as it does every time. But never completely, as we all grow, and we’re always between future and past balancing on the thin line that is the moment we call now. That is the state of the wind that blows all the time. I can feel a new wind blowing, and it does indeed reflect things that can and will be foreseen and yet even more things that people will later on take in as surprises, happy or sad ones, no-one knows, but nevertheless.
 I can’t really find a way of describing the rain. But the storm to me is always the big change in my life. Like the time I went to school, the time I ended it, the day my grandma died. Basically something that needs a lot of rearranging, in several levels. But I’m no gypsy woman who reads the crystal ball. I can’t predict the future so I’ll take the path of waiting for surprises.
 You do need surprises to stay alive. But if you don’t experience any of that, you might just as well not live at all. A life that is completely predictable is useless in my opinion. The way I see it, you grow bored of things as they go, and if nothing new happens, it’s really not worth building your life upon it all if you have nothing to wait for. I mean, sure, people buy houses and start living as a family when they can predict most of the usual things in the world. Everyone knows not to buy a house if the inflation is high. Also everyone can calculate when is the good or bad time to have a baby if they want to. But what they can’t and shouldn’t know is whether it’s a boy or girl, and the whole future of the baby. It would just take the part that makes life worth living. From both the child and the parents.

Just a couple of days back

This thing occurred. I was riding my bike to the centre, just to do some business at the post office and then to buy some groceries at the shop. After that I thought, I’ve got a few coins left in my wallet, so I might just as well go to the library. Now you might wonder, libraries are free, of course. Well I don’t like to borrow. It means you’re more responsible of the artefact you’re borrowing than if it were your own, and you have to return it in, if possible, better shape than it was when you got it. Actually that’s one of the codes, people don’t tell you to do it, they just expect it. Like if you’re staying at one persons guest room for the night, they’ve most likely spent some time cleaning it for you. however, no matter how clean it is, you always feel like you should organise the room a bit the next day you’re leaving. Oh, and then there comes the price with late loans in libraries. Well I once dropped a cd behind my shelf and found it too late. So I had to pay quite a lot.
 What I do is, I go to the library, and find my way to the removed books section, you know, the ones that are for sale now. At times I’m lucky enough to get a lot of books for free, but usually they’re something, 50c each. Not too much in my opinion, and sometimes you find even good ones, like this Norwegian book I got and read at least 3 times so far.
 Anyway, that very day was, as said, very rainy, and I thought it might end if I waited inside the library building. This would have been possible since the weather did settle down a bit when I was in the shop. Well sadly the trend changed and I got wet on my way home.
 Leaving the library I bumped into a situation. A boy, must have been some, ten years old came inside the newspaper lobby and asked the woman working there if she could help him, that some boys weren’t letting his friend come in to the library. Doesn’t really make sense to me, but it did bring me an awkward feeling. See, the moment the librarian stepped out I was going to do so as well. Well, she was asking the boys what the problem was at the doorway just the second I was going to go through. But I was eager to know what they replied. Well, one of the kids, presumably one of the bad ones told her it’s none of her business. Imagine the kids these days. I politely excused myself and asked if I could step out.
 So the lady replied, that it is her business, in a strict, public worker kind of manner, and that she wanted to know what the problem was. The kids didn’t seem to care for her, or showed no respect for their elder. Well my bicycle was just there, so I opened the lock on it and was going to cycle away as I heard those two statements. So I straightened my back and glanced at those kids. It was three boys, one of whom was not of native origin, or so I assumed. Then there were two kids closer to the door, the other with a bicycle and the other obviously not on his since he had been inside and everything. The three kids turned away and said it was nothing that the lady should mind. She told them to come back and explain, but the boy with the bicycle, the subject to bullying I believe told her it was nothing also. The librarian seemed satisfied, the boys went in and I left my own way.
 I can understand the librarian shouting after the boys. We all feel an occasional duty to protect the weaker. However, we’d rather not take the responsibility. So sure, something must be done, and we know it’s not really any use telling someone not to do something if you don’t know why they’re doing it, or if they should continue it afterwards. So I started contemplating the concept of bullying. I personally would have wanted to go there and give the guys a real lecture. But then again, it’s not my life, so who am I to interfere. And most of all, would I want someone to interfere my life. It’s a Christian rule, don’t know how it’s written, but the point is, what you want the others to do to you, do it to them. Basically the whole act is an echo. If you shout in the woods, you’ll only get one reply that is your own. Well I don’t want people interfering my life, to a certain point.
 You see, thinking here I noticed, there have been a lot of interfering going on in the past, which never really bugged me. My grandma buying me something, my dad paying so that I could do sports, my mum talking to another mom to stop someone from bullying me. But these are all interfering in a good way, in ways we usually see as positive. Though that usually depends on the outcome. I’m happy I did sports throughout my childhood. I look good because of it, I have a stable body and a basic physical shape. I’m also limber and easily motivated to doing things like jogging and such. I also mentioned someone bullying me when I was in primary school. It’s a fun story actually, and what makes it more interesting is, that I myself never realised I was bullied.
 If I think of myself and my relationships in retrospect and as an objective beholder, I can see how it all started from kinder garden. I think I’ve always been an upright outgoing person even if I didn’t want to. I’m not saying I didn’t, just that I don’t think I had a choice. All my friends find it easy to rely on me, and they also did back then. In fact, I had two best friends back in the day. I can always remember one scene; in the afternoon the kids would go out, and since we were the biggest, we’d always tie our shoelaces faster and be there to reserve the swings for ourselves. Well, we were the swing triplets as to say, I remember spending a lot of time in these swings. This once however I was the first to reach the swing, and my two friends were arguing who could go with me first and who had to wait. It usually went like this, they didn’t want to do it together so that I would be waiting. I actually just realise it now, those two were never really together unless it was the three of us playing. At least I don’t recall such a thing.
 Later we grew up and went to school, where I was placed on the same class as those two friends again, or at least one of them, I can’t quite remember it now, but after two years the classes were combined anyway, so we ended up on the same. Apparently one of the friends would have been placed in a different school because of the part of the city he lived in, but he wanted to be where we were and the school board thought it was OK. The other friend who was on my class was the one that was my bully. I assume he had it harder to make new friends, and he got jealous. I hear he tried to catch me at times, but that’s all I remember.
 I remember running around with him, he was big and clumsy, I was small and quick, though in a long run he was faster. Later on I’ve been told that our moms had a long discussion related to this what I recall as having fun. And finally, as my mother said, it ended to an agreement. I’m not sure of my thoughts on this. Was the game worse for me, who was just trying to explore and extend my private space and not engaging myself to him and thusly closing the surroundings, or for him, having only one friend who eventually seemed to enjoy not being with him. And as children go, I know it’s not all rational. Why else would he have chased me? And why did I run? Kids just don’t talk about these things like adults do. If they feel jealous, they stick close to someone, if they want more space, they run away. and they can be cruel, usually they are.
 Might all come down to not being hurt yet. The first time someone really hurts you inside, you’ll remember how it feels. And you most probably don’t want to do that to another person, unless you really loathe them. But that’s rare. As I thought, it’s not for me to go solving the cases between the bullies and the bullied, but I realise it can really make someone’s life a real hell, if nothing is done. That’s why I’m totally pro hiring and training social workers and qualified people, psychologists and everything. Not just librarians.

There are times when

you feel really calm inside. It might strike as a soft wave of warmth, out of the blue, like the times when you see a great movie or even when you’re sitting on the toilet. Or it could be a feeling you have on you since morning. For some reason you wake up happy, not tired at all, and start expecting the happenings of a perfectly normal day with a smile on your face. Not excited though, that’s quite the opposite of calmness, but you know perfectly well what I mean. Days when you see the sun shining, perhaps not brighter, but warmer than usually. Basically warmth tends to bring a calm feeling, calm and drowsy.
 Then at times you find yourself tense for no specific reason. I’ll use tension as the antithesis to calmness here because these are the two feelings I met today. Tension builds up suddenly as well as silently, just like calmness. You realise something isn’t the way it should be just when you least expect it, and that makes you wait for the coming in an excited way. You see a dog barking at you with an angry look on your face, and you realise it’s not tied up. So you feel frightened, luckily this time nothing happens. Or, you wake up, as last time, but this time tight all around, possibly even with a hurting neck. So you had nightmares and feel bad when waking up, and you unconsciously expect for something to happen, something you either know of or just fear.
 I’ve been to work for some time now. Shit jobs as some say, nothing stable, nothing long-lasting, just what ever I can find. they said it’s the dream of the youth today to not get too committed to only one profession. That way the employers have an excuse for low paid rubbish work that keeps you busy for two days. All that action includes my current position as a junior real-estate care assistant. In English that means that I wipe the sand off the pavement. Yeah, the kind of stuff you see in comic books. I bet you never thought someone would actually do that. They usually use cars for it, but not in gardens that have only pavements for walking and so.
 I can’t feel calm doing it. OK, so 8 hours of dusting. Luckily it wasn’t rainy or windy today, so I was able to just mind my own business. While standing there, swaying the brush, you really have time to think of things. Observe passers-by and speculate on their positions and goals, where they’re headed, what do they do, where do they come from. At times someone comes to you and cuts your train of thought. Usually it’s an early morning dog walker just before moving into the park. It’s mostly just good morning, or nice weather or such. Small talk as to say. I’ve said I don’t like it. People have a need to let me know that my work is appreciated though. I’d be glad if they really did, but with my salary, I find it hard to believe. Well, I reply as I should; it indeed is sir, or good morning to you too, have a nice one, or something of the kind. I wish to prevent the looks the next morning when I haven’t replied. They’ll be observing me thinking if they should try again, or if this guy, me, is some unsocial bastard that just doesn’t want to be approached. And that’s a thing that would make even me feel awkward. No, I’ll just live along, day by day, after all, being nice doesn’t really kill anyone. In fact, it might loosen the tension between your ears, and at best cases make you calm. See how I approached the subject here again.
 You see, today morning, I was indeed greeted by sunlight though the curtains. yeah, it’s still light on mornings, though autumn is coming closer all the time. Every day I look outside the window realising it’s dark, and then I take my watch and realise it’s again 5 minutes earlier than last time. The darkest season of the year. I used to think that was gibberish when I was a kid. Everyone knows that nights are longer in the winter and shorter in the summer. But if you really think of it, you’ll realise, that the occasional snow covering the ground like a sugar frosting tends to do its best in reflecting all of what claims to be the last light source in the dim darkness. Though nowadays all of this is stolen from us with street lights. Basically the only place to run from light is the woods or some totally deserted place. But due to ever light, everyone is so used to it, they’re too afraid to go to the darkness. Makes me smile thinking of the teenagers imagining everything black as if they longed for some resting for the eyes after all the artificial glow around them. And it’s true, people seem to be more busy now that days extend to 16, maybe 20 hours with force. I keep the lights on in the evening too, who wouldn’t. Couldn’t sleep anyway after getting used to staying up and doing something meaningful.
 Sometimes the air is moist. It kind of makes you exhausted, it is indeed a bit heavier than usually, but that’s just part of autumn again. I don’t mind. Though what I miss is the singing of birds. In fact, I only realised that today. They sing, but not so much as they would a month back. The voices of nature are one of the only things that beat good music in calming my nerves. But enough of that. So as I said, I was really tense this morning. having staid up late again due to my sleeplessness and knowing there’d be an awful day ahead, I really had no motivation to go about anything. That led to me skipping breakfast, which I later regretted, especially I missed my morning tea.
 A man walked by me nodding as a gesture of good will. I nodded back not bothering to smile, since it takes a lot of effort when you lack rest and are tense. I carried on my work as it was. Then I felt a bit brightened up seeing someone struggle to keep their dog in order. It was a young German shepherd. You know how eager puppies can be, and this one isn’t really a small one either. It didn’t bark, but jumped around and almost pulled the owner down on her knees as it spinned. I actually had a laugh at it whilst they were walking my way. Feeling a bit amused I paused my work to see the dog when it came closer. It was a boy, don’t remember the name, but it immediately showed a lot of interest in me. I was thinking of getting on one knee to give it a pat, but then, the owner might not want that. The dog was pulling her at me and she was pulling the dog away from me.
 So she quickly apologised the dogs behaviour. I of course told her it was all right, that I once had a puppy of my own, and this one is just trying to get new friends. She smiled and and said that it would be good to have one that was under control anyway. I asked her if the dog was young because it really did seem like it was out in the park for the first time. The dog was sniffing my legs at the moment and I gave it a good pat on the neck, which made it turn its head and smell my hand and lick it a bit, to get familiar with my scent. She said she had just gotten the puppy, and that it was her first one, not even a year old. I just wondered aloud how she made such a chose, to get such a huge dog to be her first one. Apparently this was her own dog, but before moving out, her family had had several dogs.
 I realised she was my age, or so and so. Just moved out to live on her own and she also had a dog. She said she wished we were in the country so that she could let the dog run free and not lock it up in the jail that was her flat on third floor. A few pulls and the dog lost all interest in me. That’s how they are, little ones. It was already heading forth, pulling the girl with it like they were in a real hurry. I told her to have a nice time in the park as it was such a lovely weather and all. she thanked and said bye, gave me a smile and went on. I didn’t look after, nor did she I think, the dog didn’t, that certain. But somehow that dog and the nice owner made me calm that very morning. Talking about something real for once actually brightened my thoughts and I realised, that my thoughts that day were focused things less sad as work and boredom. They were focused on the birds as I just said, on the kids running to school and the revolting business people driving in their cars all busy and important-looking. Basically on the lively side of the world, not the sleeping side of it.
 There’s so much that happens around you all the time, it’s natural and completely understandable that you won’t notice it all. There’s the things that you find disgusting and the ones you love, and it’s just a matter of coincidence what catches your eye that day. I know for me there are days when I look at people and I see they’re all different, but everyone, even the prettiest one has something that makes me detest the whole sight of them, and then there are the days when I look at people who I know are ugly, and I see one beautiful thing in them, and that makes me happier. Well, I can’t please myself always, but feeling important is one of the things that make me happy as well, thus my frustration at my work, a work that even a monkey could do, and that’s offensive even to them. I feel useless, and that makes me think everything around me stands for nothing but to fill my feeling of uselessness. But that’s something you can get out of, like, as people say, out of the blue. Like when some creature, in my case today, a dog comes to you and spreads its happiness, how can I refuse to take it in? I can’t, especially when I see its owner sharing its feeling.
 I was hoping to see them again tomorrow. To see if the life of a child truly is a life full of extreme emotions, happiness and sadness, or easier said, crying and laughing, loving and detesting. If the dog, and the girl of course, would be just as happy as it was today, I would be really happy too. and waiting for that I was ready to go to bed that night. Or would have been unless the cruel Mr. destiny hadn’t thrown the wrong number from his dice. Right now I can only feel bad, since I’m quite confident I’m getting ill. My head feels full of something, as if the tension that was around me in the morning had moved up to my head. Also I feel dizzy, like feverish, but not quite. I think I’ll just have a cup of tea, and watch a movie. That’s my favourite way of spending the night now that I can’t even sleep. I’ll skip work tomorrow. I already called my boss, who wasn’t happy, but didn’t mind, since people are lined up for useless jobs nowadays. They don’t want to commit. Well, one good thing in this drowsy feeling; I don’t think I would have been able to write about my tense feeing in the morning if it weren’t for the punch that returned my feet back on the ground. I’ll see how it goes.

In the end

as surprising as it may be, you realise it doesn't really matter at all, what has been. You realise you live in the presence, and can't change the past, and you really can't change the future either. Sometimes this makes you sad, or if not that, at least a bit hollow inside. That's what it did to me at least. After all, future seems to be the initial goal for everyone, but it's so absurd and vague, that it's hard to get a grip of. See, everything you do depends on everything, not just what happens in your life, but what happens in the world and its surroundings. You plant your roots on solid ground and reach up high, but still grow the direction the sun shines. It's natural. And when it really comes to controlling your life, it's actually all in vain.
 A few months ago I stopped writing this story completely. Now I've returned to finish it. Why? Well, I actually realised, that writing about human affairs, I was in fact reaching to more accurate levels than I originally thought. And I had to experience this by myself. You see, reading this through, from the beginning, to my surprise, I notice I was writing about myself. And eventually it would have ended with this someone falling in love, which is a cliché and a used topic. I realised, from the beginning, all these events, I actually came across them just few weeks after writing them down, and this scared me. And just 4 months and 3 weeks ago, I think I made it to the end before the story did. Or perhaps I unconsciously discovered, that the story resembled my life and then wrote it all the time closer and closer to what has happened and was happening to me, who knows. All I know, is that the cynicism that was about at that time was due to the influence of my surroundings rather than what initially was my very soul, or my thoughts. In the end, at this very moment, I find it hard to believe I wrote all this, as it's been a while I read this story.
 As a matter of fact, I am in love, which would have happened in the end of this story. And it would have been in a deep level, the kind I assume the readers of this would have liked. But in the very end, it's a feeling, and unexplainable everywhere but between the two that are concerned. All I can say, what you have said or written before, it doesn't really matter when all that you can write, talk or think about is... well, this.