Mary and me, Part 15

Not good enough

Having one of those nights again. Woke up at midnight and could not get to sleep anymore. Needed another start in writing.

This time I ripped all the written pages of my note book and wrote it all again. How stupid one can get – to cut his fingernails too short or do my fingers ache because of the writing, I do not know.

Was not satisfied. It did get little bit better, but not good enough. I do not think it ever will be. Well, now it is half past seven in the morning. Been writing, smoking and drinking coffee from midnight.

Yesterday I said about these texts that I feel like I'm dancing on a thin ice, which does not even exist. Will the imaginary ice break soon? Luckily Mary likes swimming, but do I? Am I too shy? Will the water down there be too cold? I maybe yellow. She likes yellow, the color I mean. Good for her...

Yesterday I was irritated. But not because of Mary. It was one of those days, when you feel in advance that something will go wrong. You just do not know what it is and then you start to wait for it.

We had agreed with Mary that she will spend the night with me at my place. When I started to feel that something will go wrong I called her to ask if I could get to hers instead.

She said we can talk about it later. Meanwhile I went for my writing course just to find out it was canceled. I called her again to say that she is welcome to mine. She did not feel too good about this going back and forth and I had started to feel irritated as well. We decided not to stay together that night.

Mary and me, Part 14

What life is about

Half past four in the morning. I have not slept a bit. Feel better now. Desperate Mr. Melancholy is gone, but not for good. Just for the time being.

Put Groove FM on. Groovy music. Sitting naked on Mary's chair and writing to you in candle light. Stupid commercials. Now a good version of Proud Mary. Great music. Another channel, Eric Clapton from a soundtrack. I do not recognize the movie. Classical on again.

By the way I heard Mary playing Bach. It was great. Her instrument, the flute, is a beauty. In the beginning her voice was shivering, but she bravely played it through. Well, she is a professional. Right now maybe not in such a good shape. But she will get better, if she wants to. We all do, if we want to...

That is what life is about: getting better at different things. Then something might take it back and then we get better again. Life needs to be lived. That is what I hope I can say as my last words. Life needs to be lived. Neither worried, nor stayed in a closet. Live a life, I say.

Mary and me, Part 13

In or out?

I do not mind if none of this will be published. By writing I have had some clearer thoughts and it has been really good company for me. Some of my friends have liked these texts too. I do not know if it is because they know me and that they almost every time have some interest in what I do. Sometimes writing is good, other time not so good. I think this is the last one. Starts to sound desperate in a way.

Well, Mr. Melancholy is my friend. In this country I have had a license to be sad. It is easy to get depressed, but difficult to get out of there. I think it is no use to get as crazy as the world around you. But if you do not fit well enough, you are out. Who wants to be in?

An anarchist, Mary said, I am. Does she want me to fit in? If so, I do too. But in my own way. It makes a big difference for me. "Have you ever had a feeling that the world has left you behind? Have you ever had a feeling that the world has left you behind? Have you ever had a feeling that you are losing your mind?", Sting was singing in a movie called Leaving Las Vegas.

Mary and me, Part 12

Advice

Some time ago I took a sleeping pill, but I still can not sleep. These texts go round and round in my head. It is 03.03. The time, not the day. Reminded me of Mary´s birthday. It will be on the 9th of March. I asked Mary, if I may save money and buy her a silver cross she likes. She said no. I may have to use some blackmailing, bribing and threatening before she says yes.

I also asked if I may get a picture of us framed for her, but she refused. Anyway it is good, one can say her opinion. And I do not want to hurt her in any way. But maybe we can discuss some things a bit more in the future. Might it be a different present and a different picture? I think I will try it later on.

I am writing this in candle light and my eyes seem to get a bit blurry, maybe because of the pill. It is half past 3 in the morning. Can not even see the letters too well. Well tomorrow I will be writing these texts again and again. I am not sure if it makes them better, but I think it makes me better. I am still just studying writing and I hope I never will be ready.

There was a young lad who wrote a lot. His father gave him an advice: 'Do not publish anything before the age of fifty.' The young lad never became a writer.

Mary and me, Part 11

Funny thing or not

I have written ten of these short stories so far. This one is the eleventh. On radio they are singing that love hurts. Has not hurt me yet. I have had a great time all the time so far.

In the next song there is a verse: ' I beg your pardon. I never promised you a rose garden.' Too tautological - changed for classical again. There was Jean Sibelius on the air.

Funny thing between Mary and me. Mary does not laugh at my jokes. I feel it is funny. She does not. But in one thing we agree and that is that I really am crazy.

Yes, yes... my favorite is on. Mozart. The one I call a genius. Probably the best there ever was. She likes Bach. We are different, but we have a lot in common too, I think. Mary and me, I mean. She thinks I have a nice bottom, I agree. I do not just agree, but I also think she has a great one too. One example to mention.

It is almost 2 am. Changed the radio channel again. Some Finnish pop now. Eppu Normaali: Uraani halkeaa. I am writing at her place in candle light while she is asleep. Had a look at her. She is a real beauty. Exactly my taste. Yes, she tastes good too.

Mary and me, Part 10

The way we are

On the air a dj is having a flu. Sexy voice I would say but he is a man. Norppa. He put a record on where they sing: 'At the age of eight I knew that the world will be destroyed in a duel of super powers.' Freelancers do not get sick, he said. Would it be a good reason to become a freelancer?

Norppa is putting on bands whose names start with letter U. Now it is time for U2. I hope everyone will find what they are looking for. Except the ones who just want to have a look. I had a look at the bed. Mary is sleeping on it. I think I have found what I have been looking for.

Rarely do I envy other people. But there was a friend of mine, Jorge, who saw U2 in a club in Dublin before they were huge. Another who I envy is Sean Connery, not because of the looks, but because of the voice. I have heard he has a tattoo Scotland forever, but is married to a Spanish lady and lives in Spain on an island.

Lit a red candle, which I have brought to Mary's. Mary wears red beautifully. But now she is naked under a red blanket. She has a two times larger bed than I do.

Last time when we were at mine, I slept on the floor, because I didn't wanna wake her up, when I came to sleep. In the morning she left without waking me up, because she knew I needed some more sleep. That is the way we are.