February 27th, 2015.

Writing this in the train, on my way to visit mum and dad for the weekend. Waited for the 01.25 train to Jutland at the Soroe Station. Only one there – though there are surprisingly many on board. The lonely platform made me think back to my time in military service, in the air force, where I was in the military police. Not as adventurous as it may sound, hardly, in fact, but it did mean I had to lug a 15-kilo infrared spotter around the vast moor known as Karup. I recall it vividly still, spotting the incoming DC10’s, those local SAS-flights to and fro Copenhagen and Aalborg, with their burning hot engines. That and the mum of distant generators, and the swoosh of constantly circulating radars. And the smell of concrete and oil, and how the air often stood so very still, don’t know why, perhaps because of those huge incoming planes. Funnily enough I don’t recall gleaming towards starry skies, there most have been plenty of nights for that, and I do recall trying to thaw the ice between a new-comer and myself by enquiring into his telescope-project. I do believe, for what it’s worth, that those many nights – 9 months, approximately – with their ample time to think and contemplate deep 19-year old thoughts, offered me a chance to get the know the inside of my head better than I otherwise would have. I’m never now afraid to be alone with just my thoughts for company, and likely won’t ever be. This was before the time of portable music players or smartphones, see, so there wasn’t much to do but play ‘snakes’ on my nokia, and that swiftly grew boring, so… thought, thoughts galore. I’m guessing that many of them was spent planning acts and plotpoints for movie-scripts that I subsequently wrote, alas I hadn’t found my call in the world, programming, or I would’ve been tremendously rich and living in Silicon Valley now. But it couldn’t’ve been a complete waste, either, for having gone without I’m likely to not have ever relocated to Los Angeles and grown tremendously as a person during that time. So in the end it worked out, and who’s to say if it would not have worked out anyway, but in an entirely different manner. Who’s to say and care, not I, not given the life I lead now, that makes me quite happy throughout the days. So there.


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