On recent creativity and an evening adventure in the streets of Oslo.

Listening to: Nirvana Unplugged in New York
Thanks to Kafka (and me reading his the Trial) I’ve finally managed to find a stream of focus on my writing. For three days, thanks to my non-existence in the world, I’ve been locked in a bubble writing what I see around me into a weavery of a brilliant story about this girl. Well, I’m not going to share too much details with you, because everytime I do that I loose focus and just put the work in the drawer, waiting for another reason to get bored. Don’t shoot me. All I can say is that the current word count is: 7, 500 words.

There are alot of strange, beautiful people in this city (of Oslo). – God, I love this song. Plateau by the Meatpuppets, performed acoustically by Nirvana. – Where was I? Oh, yes. Well, I was on my way homewards the other evening, I was downtown and few people in the streets. All of a sudden this guy walking towards me, I hadn’t noticed him before in – my own mind as I was, begun shouting waving his hands towards the sky. First I couldn’t figure out wether he was trying to communicate with anyone in particular, me for instance, but after a few seconds I realized that he must be drunk or even on something strong. Whatever it was I barely slipped passed his waving hands, since I was going to cross to the other side of the street, I had to cross his path as well, and I just escaped his grip by jumping to the right the second he grabbed for me. I wasn’t prepared for any confrontation, but this guy was clearly pretty out there or insane, so I don’t think he would represent any possible threat to my health. Just before I turned my back on him, going in the opposite direction, he gave me this crazy stare that just took the air out of my lungs.

Now, I was pretty scared with the guy, I don’t know why. Possibly since he just popped out out of nowhere, surprising me with his rage towards the world or whatever it was. Anyway, I hurried out of there, noticing that the few other people in the streets actually did mind this bastard, meaning that he – after all – was a possible threat. People in Oslo don’t give a good goddamn if you’re lying on the sidewalk coughing up blood, but if there is something that could harm them, they care. I decided to get to the nearest tramstop and wait for a ride home. Now comes the funny part, if you share my sick humour.

I was standing there, hearing this crazy asshole‘s shouting getting closer, waiting for my streetcar to arrive along with this girl. She didn’t mind the shouting, after all she had been standing there on a safe distance and not actually being grabbed for by the sick bastard*. What I came to realize, after a minute there, was that she didn’t mind him at all. No, it was me that she was afraid of. Yes, I was wearing my black leatherjacket, and we were all alone, but give me a break! I don’t look scary, do I? She finally decided to walk away, and this really got me pissed off! Judging me like that, without even giving me a chance to be nice. Not that I was interested or anything, I just gather that people should try getting along in a city as this one. I almost offered her my ticket-roll, where I had one paid ride left, just to convince her to not be so prejudiced, but I somehow got the feeling that this would only make it worse.

As she was hurrying along, having crossed the street to be safe from me, I laughed real hard to speed her up. Couldn’t help it. I mean…! You know me. And that’s it! That’s one of the little adventures I’ve had lately. And more is coming, I guess..

* Now, you might say that I was prejudiced by judging that man, but you should have seen him for yourself before saying that. I mean, it might be that he was completely sane, only drugged or really drunk and pissed off about something (probably being thrown out of a pub or something). I say no more.