Bokelskere.no

I thought it might be a great thing to be the air.
I could be something and nothing at the same time. I could be necessary and also invisible. Everyone would need me and no one would be able to see me.

Everyone was always becoming someone else.

Another secret of the universe: Sometimes pain was like a storm that came out of nowhere. The clearest summer morning could end in a downpour. Could end in lightning and thunder.

One of the secrets of the universe was that our instincts were sometimes stronger than our minds.

I sometimes think that I don't let myself know what I'm really thinking about. That doesn't make much sense but it makes sense to me. I have this idea that the reason we have dreams is that we're thinking about things that we don't know we're thinking about - and those things, well, they sneak out of us in our dreams. Maybe we're like tires with too much air in them. The air has to leak out. That's what dreams are.

I lay around and thought about things. All the ordinary problems and mysteries of my life that mattered only to me.

First Dante. Then me. And now my mum. Tears all over the damned place. Maybe tears were something you caught. Like the flu.