The happy place

I’m in a car with two dogs strapped to myself in the special dog buckle safety seat thing even though we are at the parking lot in this cool evening, when it’s not clear whether the sun or the moon is shining behind the gray clouds.

Indeed.

The low sound of traffic is the only thing to be heard when the black dog is barking at things he sees.

I went to a pizzeria I’ve not been to for seven years today. It was the same man behind the counter; a fit looking handsome fellow whose thin waistline I think is remarkable for someone in his line of work. He looked exactly the same except now he wore glasses.

Then at the park we met a friend from before, from when we lived here. She looked exactly the same except this time the toddler she was with was a new one, the fifth and not the fourth.

I think if we would’ve lived here still, we would’ve been close friends, but it’s all chance, it’s so random, you know? Who I would’ve been then, because

I feel it clearly that us moving and beginning this new life clearly marks one of these branches which changes the life sufficiently.

I’m still myself inside, but I am not so fit, i don’t even train four to five times a week anymore, I have skills now, can build and fix things

And I’ve not even got the same interests

And I’ve been opening up some of these parts of myself I’m not proud of, and have taken a good look. That’s one of the reasons I think I’ve grown a bit more fat and melancholic. even so, I’m better off.

And there are still too much stuff in mother In law’s apartment, only this time I found it very charming. Almost.

Finally, finally, on seeing me, these people probably think, and would say, that I look the same

But I’ve got glasses now.

Today I have been consistently sweat drenched and I have felt warm and a little bit disgusting in a way like definitely unattractive with messed up hair and these paint speckled crocs, and the point is that I didn’t give a single fuck as I was walking among all of these people with hair looking the way rich people do their hairs and white clothes of silken quality without a single spot I did feel out of place like a bumpkin, but somehow the only emotion in me was something like a mild amusement

Such is the freedom which comes with age, maybe.

Today as I was walking along the waterfront, by the heavily trafficked intersecting street where there is a tram crossing, two men in their thirties dressed in chinos were riding a rental e-bike; the one who wasn’t steering clutched a giant chocolate bar — which he no doubt won at the tivoli — in his armpit as they just crossed the street, ignoring the red lights and the obvious danger as they made it safely against all odds to the other side.

Something about these smartly dressed gentlemen was inspiring in a way,

Of course they weren’t wearing helmets

The moon is full behind a thin veil of clouds, looking almost orange against the late summer night sky’s deep but not dark blue

I’m on vacation at a castle, this month’s salary spent already on halloumi burgers with home made french fries

Here in my room I glimpse it (the moon) through the open window. I hear the blowing fan sounding like the rustling of leaves outside. And sometimes a car in the distance, or someone french sounding carelessly talking to someone right outside.

Upsetting the dogs of course

I thought of my neurotic black dog again today when I ate the burger; he freaks out about things only his keen dog ears can hear, or if there’s unexpected movements at the corner of his eye or if another dog walks by,

I think that there’s no way for him to know that those sounds or dogs aren’t dangerous; in reality there’s no way to know for sure — what if one of these guys with a Sabaton t-shirt hates dogs and tries to kidnap him or worse? It’s by being careful that we as species can survive. At least some specimen of each kind ought to have this vivid imagination for spotting danger

But it’s exhausting to worry about everything, life may pass you by and you might’ve been too worried about what might go wrong to live, and it ends with death even for the most careful

I thought about there was this Norwegian doctor who said something along the line that you extend your life by jogging, but maybe not by more than the time spent doing it, so you better like it. Or something to that effect.

Maybe it’s the same with worrying, that maybe you’ll live longer due to being able to avoid potential dangers, but the price you pay for it is pretty high, so you better enjoy worrying.

I’m having vacation. Received a mug from my colleagues the other day. It was a parting gift. I got it through the mail.

It made me happy, knowing they each thought of me like that.

Small gestures of kindness mean a lot, I think.

Knowing someone cares enough to send a big red mug, when they don’t have to, knowing we probably will never meet again, is very heartwarming.

I think it’s: they add the raisins to the Müsli which would’ve otherwise been just oats.

I dreamt tonight about an old friend I’ve unfortunately lost contact with. I didn’t recognise him, because he wore a new face, but my wife did.

As we were speaking, slowly his face changed back to his old one, except older of course, due I think to there being so many years ago I saw him last.

I think.

Sweating and unsettled I woke up.

my lungs are inhaling great volumes of air, what a miracle!

Yesterday and the day before that, I was having some super allergy with asthma out if not asthma, something in the lungs,

But not today

Today I’m counting down until vacation (1,5 days)

I’m counting down to retirement too, but that is ridiculously far away

Isn’t it strange how I can feel this old and yet have soo many years of work left?

It’s some sort of joke,

Like when I was fixing this cable, the one between the barn and the pump house labelled internet, to replace one which mysteriously broke, I sat on my tenth try with all of these tiny cables trying to get them all into their slots of this RJ45 connector, T568 A style. To clamp down, but my hands are way too big and I don’t see what I’m doing, it felt ridiculously hard, I don’t even see what I’m doing, not even without these tears of frustration and shame!!!

But last time, having broken the clamp tool with my mighty grip, having discarded five connectors, I prayed to God please let this work now

And it did!

I feel the same anticipation about my remaining career!!

It’s called faith?

In searching my brain for something interesting to write, I found it empty! I’ve only a throbbing pain in my skull, but nothing else.

If I close my eyes for an hour or two, when I wake up, maybe it’ll be back

Who knows

A few days back, as I was pouring taco sauce in the high grass fringe, I saw a roe deer up close; he hadn’t seen me and was just as surprised in seeing me as I was in seeing him.

He looked really majestic as he hopped and gracefully ran the other way!

I probably looked just as majestic to him as he did to me.

Wearing crocks this fine day!

today was warm, the elderly suffering, ofttimes there’s no AC, and the fans used instead to cool them are blowing all of the bacteria mucus and viruses straight into their faces. I saw that on the news.

But some other people lay at the beach, sweating like pork chops, then dipping themselves every once in a while in the clear water which is pure enough for all sorts of special fishes.

And on the same planet, even in the same little town, I am too.

Making rhubarb pie. Something about rhubarb is unhealthy I think for the kidneys, but for me — having a tinge of darkness churning deep within — it’s part of the charm.

And I dug the soil and with my bare hands I harvested the potatoes with their tender, demon red skins.

Life, I don’t even pretend to understand what’s going on

Fascinating and frightening like a yin yang