Man in the white hat (16 years before)

Being sick by yourself is most stupid things in the world, yes I am having huge pains, doctors cannot say anything, I am living with ibuprofein right now. Well, Jukkap asked, what is wrong, I bet it is just a polyp, which gaves me a pain in my face. It's familiar for me, I feel bad, but I know, its easy to cut them down. Or then the reason is below here.

I've been höveli today. Having stupid face and looking through the walls. I've been listening again and again basicly only one song. REEEEAALLY important one, without what I would not be like I am now. People have always had a feeling, like some songs or melodies are made just about their case, like in this case, my case. This song is sung in Swedish. It's one of the best songs ever (like people in Sweden says: Så jävla underbar låt! Mannen i den vita hatten (16 år senare) är utan tvekan den bästa låten som någonsin har skrivits. So, It's Kent with.

Well I tell you a story: It was a really restless April in Riga, 3yrs ago. I was getting better after getting out from weeks in Hospital. Spring was starting, I was having better days every day after another. I met lots of new people, I had had lots of cries on that spring, just because being alive. I didn't believed it in any change. Meeting all these nice people: Uldis, Arturs, Janis, Maria, Tatjana, Marina and most of all the Finnish girls also: Minna, Taru and Johanna. We spend lots of nice days together strolling the streets along. I bet, it was just before mothers day, Friday evening. I was leaving to Liepaja on Saturday morning and I suddenly met him on a street. We walked through those old buildings, streets and paths: became friends, though we had met some weeks before already. I slept 2 hours on that night.

I cried again on my farewell party two weeks after. He said, on a phone, that tears are most expensive pearls you have (how could he really know, or is it a proverb somewhere?): They cost you. I left Latvia on a day when there was on a news that Muminsh died in car accident. I thought, it would be painful to lose someone in that kind of accident.

I met him every now and then, we talked and walked, he was certainly my friend. Nothing more, or less. I stayed nights with other friends, with this friend, we met daytime or early evenings. He never invited me to his home. I knew, he lived in kind of ghetto of Riga, which is not bad, but I bet, he thought me as a fucking rich girl from FIN, because of my first flat which he visited in Barona iela. It was 60m2 newly restaured stuff, double bed, washing machines, double doors at front door and most of all -- my huge flat was in the centre. I bet, he thought that it would have been passing the borders, if. It was a long journey to find a home.

But I need to say, he was first person with whom, I felt that I am resting, I forgot myself and my stupid little problems. We never were a couple, don't think so, but a soulmates. I am talking in past-sense, because I need to. I haven't been resting after summer 2005. It was the last time when I talked with him. No one talks with him anymore. I think this has grew a wall inside me and I think, I can never rest anymore, it's kind a empty feeling, but still I have my vitality every now and then, but if only. I don't know what to do. Except listen: Men älskling vi ska alla en gång dö. Ja, vi ska alla en gång dö. Ja, vi ska alla en gång dö. Vi ska alla en gång dö... vi ska alla en gång dö... vi ska alla en gång dö.

Edit: Mursvin, ja jos sä luet tätä taas salaa, niin nyt voisit kerrankin älytä pitää pään kiinni, kun sun kommenttia tähän ei todellakaan enää kaivata.