29-08-2003

A bit of a run through the apartment, of people having a look around towards renting the place. Seems by a mild stroke of good luck one agreeable lady, Miriam, was interviewed for the evenings news on the pros and cons of living in Malmoe; after that she received many a call from friends and others, in need of help moving over. And she saw my add on the Internet, and is now directing potential clients in my direction. Hope one of them takes to it; would rather like to have this thing resolved the sooner the better. For my own part received the rental agreement for the apartment on Frederiksberg, signed and it’s on its way. Will need to advance a hefty twenty-six thousand towards it; wherefore I most certainly hope my own end of it, Malmoe, has been resolved by the time of the move. ~~~ Getting darker in the evenings and mornings. For some absurd reason walked to the Station this morning and thought of Christmas, even though it’s not even remotely near half the cold temperature seen near that season of the year. Must’ve been the lighting, then. Feel silly to think of Christmas when the Autumn hasn’t even commenced, but attribute it to the romantic in me, and get away by that. ~~~ Out running with Thor this other night, actually a sequel to an outing two days before that. Mild in the weather and good company makes for nice trips round to the beach and back via the old railway tracks. Should’ve asked him sooner than a month before the move, but didn’t want to slow him down, literally, in his efforts to conquer the Stockholm Marathon; he was quite gung-ho there for a moment, though now slowed down sufficiently so as to allow company. Am thankful of that, and hope to be out there again soon. This late afternoon (writing this in the morning, as a matter of fact, on the commute) am arranging a movie-evening that unfortunately he couldn’t make, but have no doubts we’ll work out something soon. ~~~ Will need his help with the move, by the way, near the end of the month. A little bit less now that I’ve managed to sell the television and the gigantic shelf. Three guys came ’round last night and carried it off, to the kind of physical exercise I’d imaginged that would be – having put it together and taken it apart by my lonesome and felt the weight of the damn thing. Priced it perhaps in the low end of what I should’ve, but I always considered the cost of hiring moving-men as well, and what this would’ve done to the all-included pricetag. This considering, three hundred and fifty seems okay. Four hundred for the tv-set – have not had to withdraw much money this month, given all the cash in hand. Have still some heavy-duty items I’d like to see gone from my sight, preferably but not required a monetary compensation. ~~~ Have adjusted to the fact that we’ll be moving, to the point where I’m granted insight into the advantages of it. Certainly there will be extra time to spend, now that I’ll no longer be in a train two hours every day. This other day, ridiculous story, found myself stuck on the motherfucker for three fucking hours because of a brake-failure that had many others besides myself trapped. Suffice it to say that experience has been a good help in contemplating possible advantages of a move. Am kinda hard-pressed to think of any other. It will be a more costly affair, this for sure. The cost of living in Denmark compared to Sweden will bother me during the first few months. But, to hell with it, we’re two people sharing the rent, and I’m guessing that and the time gained will alleviate the financial strain I’m bound to suffer, erstwhile I’ll rejoice in the grandour of the place. It really is a very nice place indeed, and I’ll soon enough raise the money and pay the man his deposit and first month’s rent. Keep on selling stuff until there’s so little left I won’t have to hire someone to move it – never in this life. ~~~ Have been asked for my adress towards an invitation to a reunion. ‘S right, letter from Lars Brink right in my email-box this other day. Surprised me – threw his card away and had counted on him to do the same. But apparently he held on to it, and he and Peter – God it’s been ages – am planning on doing something for the tenth year anniversary of that class of, what, ninety-three? Nineteen ninety-three. Some ten years ago. May as well be a century instead of a decade. Imagine that. Is this something I would like to attend? I swear a year ago I would’ve deleted his email without even thinking twice about it. But now that year has passed, and brought about so many thoughts I never knew I contained, and I’m am simply unable to work out – at least right now – if I would go, given the invitation. Brings back a lot of memories, this. Most of them good – and I should be clear that this other month I felt like crap, unsure of just about any fucking thing that came my way. Am I concerned that I’ll go and find out that it would’ve been better to stay in Aarhus, stay a free man in odd jobs, stay single, stay hungry? I guess I might be, or at least am able to accept that as a plausible reason towards dubious concerns about a reunion. Or, I could even go better than that: Am I troubled by the lack of knowledge into ‘what would’ve happened if…’, yes, absolutely. If I had stayed around those parts, if I had found some courage sooner in life, if I hadn’t turned away because I was too inexperienced to sense a return of the feelings I knew I was expressing? “Could it be that she’s still single, not really desireable company to her friends and definitely less than so to potential lovers”. Those sort of things. What I’m truly concerned with here, is the notion of regret. I was late in life in discovering those basic desires of a youthful mind, and that made me contribute so much importance to them, to an unattractive degree. And it’s a probability that I’ll find the end of my days still nurishing that concern, of regret; regretting that I was not more convincing in asking for her love, and so laid to waste a path in my life I’ll never find the chance to walk again. And that bothers me, because for a long time when I was my most impressionable self it was near all I could think of. Almost like a damn spell, and I do concern myself with the chance of falling under it again. Now, the greater is the possibility that I’ll learn how that castle is made of sand, and has been for a long time. Still, ‘what if’. I think I may as well adopt an attitude that all may fall where it will. Have lived by this for some time now, anyways, and why the hell interrupt that losing streak. If what I have now is not going to stand up to revisiting a damn pipe dream, then I may as well get over it. In as much have admitted to my attendance. Of course I have. I, all about adding to the sum of my experiences. Hope it will arrange itself around Christmas, this thing, so I’ll save a fare back and forth. ~~~ Talked to Bo, who’s sold his apartment within a month and a half, much to his rejoice. And mine – will see the money he owes me. Good for both him and me, and gives me hope that I’ll be able to sell mine reasonably fast when that time comes around. Won’t be for a couple of months, recouping my investment by subletting the place. Had some people over, and one particular couple seemed very interested – will hear from them Monday, to a hopeful resolution to my concern in that area. Concerns, concerns, concerns. Make it sound like I’m a bundle of worries. Am dealing much better with all that’s going down, thank you very much. Haven’t killed me yet, so I guess I’m the stronger. Lord, the cliche. Have found strength in numbers (won’t think back ten years on that notion). And it helps. So will continue to do so. And, well, again, I’m really a better man for it. More generous, I think. Less cynic. Couldn’t be that bad. ~~~ Tomorrow Saturday. Am hoping for a quiet day.

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