Whenever you miss someone,
are you sure it’s truly the person you are missing?
Not how you felt that time,
long ago,
not the way this person makes you laugh,
nor the way this person makes you feel?
Maybe longing for people is not such a self-sacrifice,
after all?
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When a man starts a film, claiming you will not like him, that he does not want you to like him, what can you really expect?
As ever, I am the last one on earth to watch every movie ever made, also in this case. So, why do I sill choose to write about it? - [...]
- Å dæ va Olaf Åknesonen som sovi hæve så længje -
En gang for lenge siden, var det en mann; Olaf Åsneson ble han kalt. Da julekvelden kom, skulle han bare legge seg nedpå og hvile litt. Ingen ante da at han ikke kom til å våkne før trettede dagen.
Dette er rammen for [...]
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I think souls twirl together and get struck up on a knot. Farther you go, the two souls are like a rope, they stretch, and stretch. What you miss is not pointed at you, or the person you miss. But simply the merge of the two, the knot probably.
You miss the hug of the souls.