DOG ATE

Just ended the book in the bathroom with the water running. We did not talk about the bloody and black t-shirts of bugs, the white horse not stepping on Neals head not in a dream, the dog eating the ending and the ending being what it was, meaning age and limitations. Here I am sitting in the white bright computer room, covered in white paint, even on wedding ring, opening mail, writing emails, missing objects for shelves - used water container, dirty pale coloured taights (for man), scull and shot gun, fish bowl with bubbles, ski mask (crime hat), marihuana pin (white), Danish pantelapp (Ronni, could you get me one?). And looking for 15 more of those relevant memories. No time for thinking and reflecting yet, maybe later. I have stopped drinking, but plan to start again big time and for real when soul is in need and that needs to be soon. Writing two texts at once (and this and that other one). The big one about everything and the smaller true fiction story that might make the character angry (but it`s not like we are going to talk about it until the weather is too hot for problems /talking anyway). Many conversations needs to happen while driving. This is an important point when writing in mentalbleed today. We need to drive more soon. And we will never go to Mexico, right? I am missing lovers in London and missing time and missing the time that is needed to do whatever is wanted whenever I want it. But that is not relevant because we are learning that someone knows time. This was it for now, even though it does not seem to be stuck in the words like I imagined. It is also like I never want to read another book again and also every book in existence. Just enough sleep and sugar. I think of Stine Omar Midtsæter, I think of Stine Omar Midtsæter.