Compulsion.

Feeling constantly driven to write, I have to do it now again, although I wrote a post during the night that no one has responded to yet. It doesn't matter, I write for myself at this point. It's an exercise in being alive and aware and letting my brain work around the details of my life, small and insignificant as they are. Let's face it, I certainly don't live a life of high drama and adventure. I only have high drama when things don't go well and I hit one of my low points and extensively write about it. Adventure never happens in my life anymore, that's a thing of the past, when I was younger and more daring and didn't give a hoot about the consequences. The most adventurous thing I do nowadays is cross four lanes of busy traffic on my bicycle, or ride over cobblestoned streets at high speed because I just came off the incline of the bridge, Yes, I do have to squeeze the hand brakes a little bit then to not hit those absentminded pedestrians that wander into the street.

So anyway, high adventure there is not, but I can write about anything under the sun and make a story out of it. I can dramatize the lives of my dog and cats, if I want. I just took the dog out and I noticed that he is actually a bit of a shy dog, because he saw a window washer and watched him from afar and gave him a wide berth. I don't know how much the glaucoma is influencing his vision, and what he actually sees, but he doesn't like to be surprised and shies away from people who suddenly show up in his immediate surroundings. Of course, he doesn't hear them, which is something people don't understand, and they can make the nicest sounds in the world, but he doesn't know what in the world they are talking about and can only tell by body language what their intentions are. He's not much interested in other people or dogs when we are outside. He really doesn't care very much. It's different if they come into the apartment. He likes visitors and will make sure he gets a lot of attention, and so do the cats, so anybody who comes here has to like animals very much.They will be besieged by them.

Gandhi just escaped into the stairwell and went for a roam around to the very top. I left the front door open on a crack, because rather than chase her, I've found out that she comes back of her own accord and it really doesn't take her that long, because she is afraid that she will miss out on something here. Like when the dog will get his food. I just have to make sure that Toby also doesn't disappear in the meantime, but he will come back too, only he hasn't figured out how to push open the door to come back in and sits there on the doormat meowing mournfully. Sometimes they escape through the outside door, but they know how to make their way around the block into the little patio and back into the apartment through the cat flap. They do it in no time at all. Cats actually are pretty smart animals and have a great homing instinct.

Well, that's what I've got too. You should see me on the way back home from downtown. It's like I'm pulled by magnetic forces toward the apartment. I peddle that bike so quickly, even though I go slightly uphill the whole way. All I can think about is to be home again with Jesker and the cats and to be in my own cozy surroundings where I can do what I will and sit and smoke and drink coffee and be absolutely decadent and anti social, Not that I don't enjoy it to be in good company, but I always look forward to my alone time. I'm just the lonesome cowboy type. Yes, me and a campfire and a pot of coffee, I can picture it now. And my horse Trigger tied up to a tree.

I've got to go to the tobacconist. I'm down to my last crumbs of tobacco. I very rarely let my supply dwindle that low. I suppose I like to live dangerously every once in a while. I'm smoking my second to last cigarette and then all the tobacco will be gone. It takes me three minutes to ride my bike over to the tobacco shop and I have to remember to buy stamps as well, because I have to mail a birthday card to my daughter.

I'm off then. I'm going to ride my bike into the crispy afternoon in which the sun is shining. Have your selfs a nice day and I will do the same.

Ciao,
Nora