The happy place

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.