Norge, verdas rikaste land, tenkte eg, å gå til grunne her er som å drukne i ein søledam. Eg prøvde å le, men eg fekk det ikkje til. Det var for sant, det var akkurat slik eg følte det, som om eg drukna i ein søledam.

For biologisk sett er vi omtrent det same dyret vi var for hundre tusen år sidan, den gongen vi levde i små flokkar på den afrikanske savannen. Hjernane våre er strukturerte og fungerer slik dei gjorde den gongen, vi forheld oss til og handlar i verda som om vi var ein flokk jegerar og samlarar på evig leiting etter mat og tryggleik til oss sjølve og våre nærmaste, og sjølv om det ikkje går ein dag utan at vi hører og les om klimakrisa og alt ho fører med seg, er vi ikkje i stand til å ta krisa innover oss, ikkje før det er for seint, tenkte eg.

Lyset der var bedre enn noe annet sted, det kom fra himmelen, havet, isbreen, det var som om hun var badet i lys året rundt, og når lyset var i øynene og sjelen hennes, kunne ingen skygger nå henne.

Det er også en bevegelse i meg. En liten glød, som venter på å komme til live. Det er ikke de store begivenhetene som forandrer verden, men hverdagslige ting og usagte ord.

Egentlig er jeg en sånn person som har ris, mel og tørre bønner i gjennomsiktige oppbevaringsbokser i skapet. Egentlig liker jeg brettekanter. Tidligere forstod jeg ikke hvordan det kunne bli så rotete hos andre, jeg tolket det som svak karakter eller dårlig prioriteringsevne. Men etter at jeg kom til Skien har jeg ikke klart å holde orden.

Det deilige med senteret er at jeg ikke trenger å tenke på hvordan de jeg omgir meg med har det. Jeg kan være sammen med dem uten å ta problemene deres innover meg, gi råd eller endre noe i mitt eget liv.

For livet kom fra mørket og våkner i mørket.
Og livet brenner der, i det mørket, skrumper og vokser på samme tid, mens en slange av ild freser seg vei mot en innerste sirkel, en siste utpost, det er bare utenfor kroppen man snakker om ild, men hun kjenner den der, i seg.

I hovedsak forsømmer en livet slik livet disponerer en for å gjøre, og sliter tiden ned slik den i sin tur sliter en selv ned, helt til en til slutt ikke får med seg noe av det som skjer - det som ankommer eller passerer - og rett og slett utgår fra hele strømmen. Og at dette koster lidelse, det er det mulig å forstå, at lidelse må til. For at livet skal være noe som helst.

Men idet toget tungt og langsomt setter seg i bevegelse igjen, ser hun det så tydelig, at også et landskap er et sted som reiser. Ingen steder er ment å bli værende. Alt vil et annet sted. Alt har et annet sted i seg.

The sun is jumping ship and evening's coming. But this country needs a good disco.

A cancer is a rebellion, a cell gone rogue against the body with turncoats turning the other way and seducing parts of you to do the same. I will divide your parts and conquer. I will shut down your limbs one by one, and spill poison in your bones because look, there is nothing in me but blackness.

Can people do that? Can people want to be with someone all the time, okay most of the time, and yet also wish they were alone? And not in little compartments but at once? At the same time? All the time? I want to be alone but I need to not be.

I want to say sorry, I'm too busy thinking about how women in 1976 either get herself fucked or fucked over by a man but instead I say,
- Excuse me?

You want to scream stop the fucking car and take the fucking pussy and be done with it, because that sounds tough, like it's almost touch enough to scare them a little, but you know words like that could never come from a mouth like yours.

It's the slowness that gets you, the feeling that there is still time to do something, to get out, to run, to close your eyes and thing of Treasure Beach. You have all the time in the world. Because when this happens it's your fault. Why didn't you get out? Why didn't you leave? The policeman hears my mind and stomps the gas, raising the stakes. Why don't you get out? Why don't you leave? If you open the door and jump out, just grab your knees and roll until you stop.

In the ghetto there is no such thing as peace. There is only this fact. Your power to kill me can only be stop by my power to kill you.

Time travel is real, Daniel said. We do it all the time. Moment to moment, minute to minute.

Always be reading something, he said. Even when we're not physically reading. How else will we read the world? Think of it as a constant.

All across the country, people felt it was the wrong thing. All across the country, people felt it was the right thing. All across the country, people felt they'd really lost. All across the country, people felt they'd really won. All across the country, people felt they'd done the right thing and other people had done the wrong thing. All across the country, people looked up Google: what is EU? All across the country, people looked up Google: move to Scotland. All across the country, people looked up Google: Irish Passport Applications. All across the country, people called each other cunts. All across the country, people felt unsafe. All across the country, people were laughing their heads off. All across the country, people felt legitimized. All across the country, people felt bereaved and shocked. All across the country, people felt righteous. All across the country, people felt sick. All across the country, people felt history at their shoulder. All across the country, people felt history meant nothing. All across the country, people felt like they counted for nothing. All across the country, people had pinned their hopes on it. All across the country, people waved flags in the rain. All across the country, people drew swastika graffiti. All across the country, people threatened other people. All across the country, people told people to leave. All across the country, the media was insane. All across the country, politicians lied. All across the country, politicians fell apart. All across the country, politicians vanished. All across the country, promises vanished. All across the country, social media did the job. All across the country, things got nasty. All across the country, nobody spoke about it. All across the country, nobody spoke about anything else. All across the country, racist bile was general. All across the country, people said it wasn't that they didn't like immigrants. All across the country, people said it was about control. All across the country, everything changed overnight. All across the country, the haves and the have nots stayed the same. All across the country, the usual tiny per cent of the people made their money out of the usual huge per cent of the people. All across the country, money money money money. All across the country, no money no money no money no money.

The pauses are a precise language, more a language than actual language is, Elisabeth thinks.