(tea and writing)

I found out about Nanowrimo, so I am currently writing a book. It is quite fun.

I have now gone to my female for the winter. Books are here, the keyboard is here, the recorder, the sword, the Paobooks… The rats and the roaches.


Sunset, and a car.

There are lots of words at the moment, but almost no words for this blog. I am alive. The winter pain is setting in, though. But it is alright. I have words.
I feel as if I am actually doing something.

A chicken made of snow.

A chicken made of snow.

When I returned here, someone had made a chicken on a pedestal, about one and a half meter high, out of snow.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I really love people. Very much.

I brought some books here today. A list will be written at some point.
For now, here are some;
Exquisite Corpse, Dan Anderssons Dikter, Art of War, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, Essentials of Latin Grammar, Usage and Abusage…
There is something very me about that mix. I am slightly proud that it is, and that I can read them all and enjoy them. Except for Shakespeare. We have quite an interesting and somewhat complicated relationship.

But it is winter again, and thus I will give him another chance. And I will lick the frog again, hoping it’s not such a horrible experience as I remember it. (But it will be, won’t it?)

Well, goodnight blog.
I hope to return here soon.

/pao – 10 nov 2010 – 05.24