Birthday or Christmas?

I'm not really sure how I feel about Christmas. I just think the food is interesting. Fried duck - that's good.

But all this with gifts and stuff - that seems - in my mind - to have reached absurd proportions. Just a lot of gift swapping back and forth. It is nice however to meet with the family and eat together.

But why are we suddenly all children just because it's Christmas? - What are we celebrating? Jesus birthday? - Why do we celebrate the birthday of someone who has been dead for 2,000 years? - As if anyone would celebrate my birthday in 2,000 years? - Think about this: Is there anyone who knows who I am in - say - 100 years? - The name of my great-grandfather on my fathers side is unknown to me, so how can I expect that my great-grandchildren should know MY name? Or keep my birthday alive for that matter? - Incidentally, it is an idiotic discussion, because I don't even celebrate my birthday. Just think it is hogwash.

And who says that Jesus think it is great to be celebrated, when we celebrate his day by swapping gifts? - It was the love for your fellow people he preached. Is your fellow people to ruin themselves for other people to love them for 10 minutes once a year?


The true teachning

Read that only 14% are smoking in Sweden. That I can understand considering how damn difficult life as a smoker has become. Inhaling and buying is almost impossible. I know that smoking is dangerous, however deep down inside I feel, that I as an adult have my constitutional right to choose how I want to ruin my health.

I've been smoking for so many years that I forgot to count. - Is it worth upsetting myself because of that? - This is my only bad habbit in this life. Some people drink alcohol in large quantities, others stuff themselves with candy and sweets. Others eat a lot of medicine. I smoke. So what?!?

I feel discriminated.

- Now take this smoking thing. It has become more than difficult to buy ones little package of Prince with skull artifact and absurd threat texts.

For instans, most shops now have a system where one only can get ones hands on the beloved package if you are taller than 5.57ft. And I am - as you all know only 4.88ft. So what can I do? If you are my size it's just your bad luck.

In other shops, we must direct an electronic pawn forward, pay for it at the desk, and then look for the cigarette machine usually standing somewhere outside the shopping area. Just finding the electronic pawns is a task for Sherlock Holmes.

Moreover, it outrages me how they, for my money by the way, fills the goddamn packages with ridiculous threats, as for example that the men sperm quality deteriorates by smoking. - Or that smokers run a greater risk of continuing a genetic disease than non-smokers. The most disingenuous crap! Absolutely no scientific evidence for the allegations. But apparently smokers must swallow all sorts of idiotic lies.

Imagine if we began to warn about the harm alcohol may cause to your health on wine labels or liqour bottles.

- Would never work. There would be a revolution. 99% of the population drinks alcohol. And alcohol is party and colors, isn't it?


Get home safely

My penultimate day in Stockholm. Last night I circled at red line in the metro. Lots of people.

Back at the hotel appr. 7 pm I went outside for a smoke. - Smoking is getting harder and harder. If I need to cover my addiction for nicotine, I have to stand outside in the rain.

Anyway. Out of the hotel came 3 persons, 1 lady and 2 gentlemen - or whatever you should call them. - The female part of the company was not quite finished with his wine, so from her pocket in her jacket she drew upp a wine glass filled with red wine, bottomed the content, and placed the glass at the sidewalk.

The smallest of the gentlemen had made sure to drink upp indoors - in such a rush that he had to use the entire road width to walk straight - if you get my point-:).

- Anyway. - The 3 of them entered their transportation vehicle - a big red Volvo S80. - It is of course important to get as safe a ride home as possible............. And anyway, it's always a good idea with a glass or 2 before putting yourself on wheel. I mean - Traffic is deadly isn't it!?!

I need a break now, because I've got to have a smoke before class starts...........


Metro syndrome

It's raining cats and dogs in Stockholm. - Did the 500 meters from the hotel to the metro station this morning, and it just stood down in bars.

So I could have ignored the hair styling routine this morning. A complete waste of my time! - And now at 4 pm it's still raining. Completely unbelievable in December.

I'm thinking about shopping today. Perhaps visit Indiska to see if I can find something. Or skip it and just go back to the hotel and pop into bed early.

My hotel is just 4 stops by the metro away from the office that I'm visiting this week. Simple and flexible. I like the metro - during daytime. During nighttime it's creepy and scarry. Lots of weird and unpleasant individuals individer coming out of their holes after 9 pm. Not that they look weird or strange, but they behave creepy. As if the metro sucks anyone with the need of getting rid of their aggressions into its deep. - The guards are no better - on the contrary. I'm actually afraid of them. Seriously!

I'm not scarred of people who feel bad for some reason. I just feel sorry for them. But people who needs to show me how powerful they are makes me real scarred.

These are the kind of people who are able to provoke me. - Perhaps I should feel sorry for the guards as well. Because they are not mentally well either. If they were, they wouldn't need to behave like they do. But I have to neglect that feeling. I am unable to pitty them. They get paid to manage conflicts. Instead they create conflicts. They should never have been hired as guards. They are small people. Low people. Un-important people. The same sort of people you can meet in the nightclub door........


How smart du you think you are?

Sometimes it puzzles me what actually's going on inside my head.

Here I am, kind enough to think of the companys costs in connection with my travels. So I thought that the nighttrain home from Gothenburg would be a brilliant idea. It costs only half of a hotel, and it'll bring me home a day earlier than expected.

And now that the tickets are booked I see that I (God damn it!) must leave the train at 5 am Wednesday morning when arriving the railway station up in Ånge (right in the middle of nowhere) - in order to switch to another train that will take me down to my final destination. Which is 111 km (68.81 miles) away.

So - well conceived, Asta! You have, as always, showed a bright ability to make it so difficult for yourself as possible!