Hopp frem til innholdet
Maybe that’s when I feel it. When the blue hood is pulled tight over my head because of the huge scarf around my neck. When the wind kisses the side of my cheek, while my nose is filled with ice. That is when I understand how small I am and how much power I have over my own thoughts. How much power I have over the bad feeling that hits me on on a Monday morning. Maybe I understand how I can use this power on all of these small problems I tend to create in my own head. So bad you can feel by nothing. My shoe is slipping. I did not quite understand what was happening until a numb feeling spreads throughout my head. The pain runs a marathon in there, as if someone have poured a cup of boiling water over me. I lay there for a while. Let my fingertips dance along the thin ice beneath me.
If perfect was a moment, I would define it as now. Here. Cold, wet, left alone, overturned and beaten by the winter. This moment where I realize I’m just me, and how nice that is. In fact, it is absolutely perfect Blue hoods close the world out. Not just the wind. It just gives you one single perspective. I try to grab my hood… Maybe I should concentrate on getting up from the cold ground. Instead, I focus on pulling this hood off. Just so that I can see a little more of the world. Do I live with a hood on? Do I let it shut the world out?