For a couple of days, there was fog all over he place, and you could see 20 meters in front, and 20 meters back. Going to work was like exploring the map in RPG game, only difference is that your scout does not remember what he saw 10 seconds ago.
And also, you were the scout. But you only remember the things which were not there on the path before you came out this morning. Fog amnesia brings the Hawkeye in you. THERE WAS NEVER A POND HERE, I claim, and look around for serial killers which can be easily be spotted with my newfound Hawkeye-ness.
But you should look for stray deers instead. I saw some on Tuesday. The hunting season started recently, we agree that it is highly possible to die from a stray bullet. But also we agree that “Black and yellow” by Wiz Khalifa is a great rap song, so I wouldn’t really trust our judgement.
Tonight, I went near the seaside, but got lost in the woods.
Found some cool pagan ritual site, surrounded by broken trees. There is less fear to go alone in darkness at night than to go eat dinner among 80 blue-eyed Danes.
There is one bar in Humlebaek, and it is my type of place. It is a place where I should work when I finish with fixing systems. Or building chairs. Building chairs is the new black (and yellow).
After getting lost in the woods, I had big doubts if the house I am going in is the right one. Still not sure, but I will live here now.
From yesterday, I live with the Dude, the Kid, the Fighter Cat, the Giant Cat and the Dog(e). I feel like the emperor of the animal kingdom, when all the doges and grumpy cats gather around to get petted. We chill and chat, we are buddies now. One wall of my room is a glass with view to the yard. Other wall is full of the Kid’s paintings.
They say they got a private beach somewhere, I say all the best things in life come for free. I can illustrate it with example of me living for free in a house which has a private beach somewhere, and all I need to do is to do what I like, which is fixing systems and building chairs.
We agreed that the Kid will teach me Danish, and I will teach him English. I could teach him how to dougie, but 1) I do not know how to dougie, 2) This is not the right lyrics. Real lyrics say “Teach me how to dance”, as we discussed in the morning, going to work, and laughed at the omnipresent, never ending pop hip hip references.
I throw word “love” at anything mildly emotion-inducing, hoping that one day that word will stick and start to actually mean something. I love that tree. I love that song. I love that project we are developing THIS SHIT IS AWESOME WE ARE GENIUSES JESUS REALLY SO GOOD.
But then I say “I kinda might like what is happening in my life now because there is sort of a meaning here, maybe not sure yet but it slightly looks like that”, and that is probably the most emotional thing I ever said about a person, object or situation.