I just had to spend half of the week at my parents’ house. Last night I finally got home. People kept asking me at the end of the week why I was being so rude. I wasn’t being rude; I was just feeling thoroughly miserable. The second I cross the threshold of that house I become fifteen again (and start behaving the same way, too), and that’s certainly not what I want to be ever again.
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The first thing I did when I got to my hometown was to go to Combat (it’s a gym class). God it felt good. Ever since from Thursday I counted hours to the moment when I could hear the warm-up songs again (the other one being Nirvana, by the way).
She was there too. She’s there almost every Sunday. Not the reason why I go there, just for the record. Actually it was a coincidence she goes there as well. I joined the gym before I had even met Her.
The definition of stalking can, by the way, be checked from www.laki24.fi; I’m not, fortunately, qualified to the district of restraining order.
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I found Roxette again last night. If someone had seen me they would have thought I had escaped a mental institution. I was arranging my room dancing and singing Roxette (“Don’t bore us, get to the chorus!”) while wearing a Children of Bodom -shirt. Talking about the ability to contradict (can you spell Nietzsche?). At this moment I have The Look playing in my inner jukebox. If I cared what some people think I would be embarrassed.
“What does it matter what anybody thinks? Most people don’t think.”
(Grady Tripp, Wonderboys)
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I have a small snake fixation, hence the picture. This has nothing to do with Potters, though I may be slightly Slytherin-ish. I'm very fond of my Kalevala snake ring. I got Her initials carved inside it last spring. A little memory of Her (as if I needed anything to remind me...).
