Lite blandad kompott så att säga.

Det är torsdag idag. Sista Mars. Dagen kommer att innehålla jobb, pendelkortssköp och tacos! Har inte ätit tacos på jättelänge så det ska bli riktigt najs måste jag säga! Vi käkade det varje vecka i höstas i stort sett men nu efter det nya året har det blivit lite sämre med den varan, så får ta igen det idag!

Jag har även en jobbnyhet. Jag har fått förlängd arbetstid, så nu jobbar jag 7 timmar om dagen istället för 6 timmar. Detta gör ju 200 dollar mer i månaden i stort sett så det är riktigt najs måste jag faktiskt säga. Det kommer bli lite lättare att spara undan lite pengar på detta sätt! På ett sätt är det ju dock drygt, att behöva vara kvar på jobbet en timma extra men det går rätt fort! Och jag är oftast ändå kvar på jobbet efter jag har slutat så kan ju lika gärna jobba lite mer ;).

Med tanke på att det är torsdag idag så är det en vilodag från träningen, inte fel det inte! Får se hur jag ska lägga upp träningen sen när Ultimatesäsongen drar igång. Fick frågan igår om jag var intresserad och det måste jag ju säga att jag är. Även om jag kommer vara urusel så kan man ju alltid vara med och träna i alla fall! Jag har inte utövat någon lagsport sedan högstadiet, och det var ju ett tag sedan, så det ska bli riktigt intressant! 🙂

På fredag ska jag gå på biluställning också så det ska bli trevligt! Får hoppas det finns med lite fina bilar så jag får användning av kameran! Vet dock inte hur häftiga bilar det är, tror mest det är standardbilar som ställs ut men det kan vara trevligt å titta på det också! Helgen kommer bli rätt lugn tror jag. Förra helgen var jag iväg på ett hejdåkalas för en kompis som ska tillbaka till tjeckien. Så det var ju både kul å trist på samma gång. Tog mig faktiskt ut å sprang två gånger förra helgen också, men det blir nog bara en runda nu till helgen, fast kanske tar en liten längre sväng istället 🙂

Vanor… igen och självbild.

Dessa vanor vanor vanor. Min plan fungerade inte, den hade nästan motsatt effekt. Denna vecka har jag spenderat mer pengar på McDonalds än vad Carl-Philip spenderar på hårprodukter under en vecka. Så nu är det slut på alla fejkade försök att få ordning i mitt liv. Det är självdiciplin som gäller. Helgernas matintag måste regleras och det med järnhand! TAMEFAN.

Som tur är så påverkades inte träningen av vanetänkandet, jag höll uppe träningen som vanligt och igår så sprang jag faktiskt 10.3km, det längsta jag sprungit här på andra sidan Atlanten. Har träningsvärk i benen än så det lär ju ha tagit! Fick dessutom en jätteblåsa på hälen så antagligen måste jag köpa nya skor. Det är ju 700 spänn jag gärna lagt på annat, men jaja, sånt är livet, ska se om jag hittar några bra sätt att försöka motverka det istället så jag slipper lägga 700 spänn!

Sedan har vi detta med självbild. Det är en konstig sak måste jag nog säga, och det gäller ju inte bara bilden man har av sig själv utan bilden man har utav andra också. Man är mycket blindare än vad man tror man är kan jag nog säga utan att ljuga så värst mycket. Jag upptäckte detta för ett par år sedan när min far fyllde 60 år. Han säger hela tiden att han börjar bli gammal och oj vad gammal han är ååh han är så gammal. Men jag har aldrig riktigt sett han åldras. Någonstans när jag var i 8-10årsåldern så etsades bilden av mor och far sig fast på min näthinna och det är i den åldern jag ser dom när jag tänker på mor och far. När de är runt 40. Detta bryts till viss del när man börjar tänka på det och man ser hur verkligheten är. Men det sitter fortfarande fast där, för om jag blundar och tänker på mina föräldrar så ser jag dom inte som dom ser ut nu, jag ser dom som de såg ut för 20 år sen.

Detta gäller även min självbild. Jag har ju, som många av er vet, jobbat med att gå ner i vikt under de senaste åren. Jag nådde min toppvikt runt April 2007 tror jag. Jag har inte hittat någon jättebra bild som ser liknande ut som de gjorde från de andra åren men jag hittade en snarlik som jag lade till i samlingen med bilder från 2007 och framåt över hur min figur har ändrats.

2007, 2008, 2009, 2010

2007, 2008, 2009, 2010

Som ni ser här så har det ju faktiskt hänt en hel del på de år jag hållit på. Jämför man 2007 och 2010 så är det ju en rätt stor skillnad. Sedan så döljer väl de större tröjorna lite bättre än vad den där skjortan gör men jag tycker väl man ser rätt mycket på ansiktet. MEN det underliga är att när jag ser mig själv i spegeln i dagsläget så ser jag allt som oftast mig själv från 2007. Det verkar vara jättesvårt att få in sin nya bild i huvudet. Inte för att det gör jättemycket att jag går omkring med bilden av 2007 i mitt huvud men det stör mig ändå, vi får hoppas att jag kommer i fas med min självbild helt enkelt. Jag har ett par kilon kvar att tappa och det får ta den tid det tar. Tog det mig 25 år att gå upp alla kilon så får det väl ta 4 år för mig att gå ner dom, det är ju inte så lång tid ändå :).

Vanor… Bra och dåliga samt FRINGE

Det är underligt det där med vanor ändå, ibland så kommer man in i ett sorts flow som gör att man gör samma saker om och om igen, ibland är det svårt att bryta sig ur dom. Konstigt att “dåliga” vanor är är lätta att få men svåra att bli av med medan “goda” vanor är svåra att få och lätta att bli av med.

Kanske är det så att vi borde omstrukturera hela sättet att tänka på vanor. Det kanske är lättare att hålla en vana om man tror att den är dålig? Det är väl inte så lätt att inse att något är bra för en och sedan försöka glömma bort det och intala sig att det är en dålig vana… Är det ett sätt att hålla en “god, ond” vana på rätt väg? Jag har löst allt! Fy fan vad bra jag är, nu är det ju bara att tillämpa det!

Alla vet vi ju att äta hamburgare titt som tätt är jättebra för kroppen, så det är ju en jättegod vana att göra det ett par gånger i veckan minst. Speciellt när McDonalds ligger två kvarter från lägenheten, då är det det perfekta sättet att spendera pengar. Gå dit och köpa lite mat och sedan gå hem. Perfekt. Detta är en jättegod vana som jag tänker fortsätta med så länge jag bara kan. Så är det!

En otroligt dålig sak som jag har börjat med är att träna, sådär 3, 4 gånger i veckan. Jättedåligt är det, det sliter på kroppen och bara jobbar med att öka förslitningsskadorna på min otroligt ömtåliga kropp. Bäst att jag slutar med denna ovana! USCH.

Iofs det vore ju sjukt jobbigt om detta gjorde att det blev någon form av omvänd omvänd psykologi så jag slutar med allt istället… Det vill vi ju inte. Fan. Det är inte lätt detta med livet, val, val, val, val 🙂

Jag har börjat titta på Fringe. Jag har hört mycket gott om Fringe bland folk som pratat om Fringe… Fringe spelas in i Vancouver och Fringe är en Arkiv-X-liknande serie. Jag vet inte vad jag tycker om Fringe faktiskt, Det är en ganska underlig serie med stundtals otroligt dåligt skådespeleri och relativt tråkiga sekvenser. Men jag ska väl ge den ett par avsnitt till för att bestämma mig om detta är något för mig eller inte. Den är smått komisk då och då men jag vet inte om det väger upp det dåliga…

Homeless filth – Short story

The thing about living in a larger metropolitan city is that you need to shield yourself from the pain and misery of other people. You don’t really understand what they are going through and at the same time you don’t care and just want them to leave you alone. Some people “help” these poor souls by giving them change, food or anything else that they might have use for. But why, does it really help or does it only prolong their suffering?

This is a story about how I killed a homeless man.

The thought began to grow in me one day when I was walking past a group of beggars. I was eating a hamburger at the time and one of them cried out “Oh come on man, I know you can’t eat that whole burger by yourself!”. As usual I didn’t even give them a glance. I just walked passed and ignored all of them with my cool indifference that I have practiced for so long.

But as I was hurrying towards the train I kept thinking of what I should have done and how that might have affected the people who were shouting at me. The first thing that came to my mind was one of those silly things that I must have seen in some movie. The perfect response to a question like that.

“I know you can’t eat that whole burger by yourself”… What if I had stopped right there in my tracks, turned to the man, looked him straight in the eyes and said “Sure I can!” And then jammed the entire thing into my mouth, smearing it all over my face and then just spat it out on the ground saying “oh I guess you were right, what a shame” and just continue to walk away.

What reaction would that incite in a homeless person? Anger? Sadness? Joy? I have no idea and I never will because the day I become homeless is the day that I die. I, Owen Windsor will NEVER become homeless. And if I do may God strike me down! And when God fails doing that, someone please just kill me.

So I decided to kill a man. That very moment when he gave me that shout I decided that I want to kill someone. Kill a man that is a leech on society. What gives him the right to just wander about all day asking people around him for help? It really was time for it to stop.

A society where people are homeless is really a society that has failed. Failed to accept everyone as equals and failed to take care of the people who fell through the safety nets of society. If there ever were any nets to begin with, but that doesn’t mean that they have the right to stop contributing to our society.

I live in a house in one of the suburbs where I lead a normal and laid back life. It’s just me and my dog Barney. I have some projects going on like retiling the roof, building a new patio and a lot of garden work. My neighbors like me, we all get together every now and then for barbeques and what not. We also do the day to day over-the-hedge-talk.

I was walking around downtown one day and happened to see a man standing in a corner begging for money. When I got closer he turned to me and asked if I had any spare change to give him. I said “No” of course… But as I passed him I stopped and turned around, looked him from head to toe and the wheels in my head started turning. What if…

“How old are you?” I asked him
“34”
“34… Are you healthy?”
“Depends on what you call healthy I guess, can I have some change or what?”
“I said no already. But I might have something better to offer you” I said
He really looked dumbstruck.
“Follow me and I’ll show you”

What was he supposed to do? He didn’t have any choice so he followed me home.
His name was Aaron, he had been homeless for about 5 years, ever since the factory he worked at shut down and his wife left him. He was from one of the smaller towns out in the country but decided that it would be a greater chance of him getting a job in the city than anywhere else. So he took his belongings and left for a new glorious life in the big city. Much good that did him.

The thing one must understand about Aaron is that he really got into that factory all those years ago on a fluke. It was a stroke of luck that made him the man he was. A man without any ambition what so ever, he would not lift a finger to do something with his life. Miraculously enough he made that one choice to go to the city, but when he arrived he didn’t look for any work. He was waiting for something to show up with the attitude “Everything will be alright; it always turns out well in the end”. And there he was 5 years later without a job, begging for food, pestering good hearted people with his presence. But now finally he thought that everything would change. Everything would turn out for the better, what a lucky day when a stranger comes up and offer him a job.

I made him work hard and only paid him in food. I did not want any drugs in my house and if I didn’t give him any money he would not be able to buy any. I gave him a bunk bed in my tool shed and there he stayed, took care of the garden fixed my fence, painted my house, worked on my patio. He cleaned up real good. Even my neighbors took a liking to the filthy beast. He might fool them into believing he was human and not a waste of space. But I knew better, the slightest touch and he would fall off the wagon and into begging again. No will power what so ever, only a basic sense of survival.

About 6 months later when my neighbor was going away for a 2 week vacation they asked him to house sit. HIM. What the hell were they thinking? They’d let that filthy animal into their home and have him watch it for them. This would not do, according to me a man is still homeless if he lives in a shed. But if he stays in a house he is not homeless, he is with house. My real work had to begin.

I invited Aaron to my house in order to put up a game plan. How we could make him a free man, a man with a home, a life and a fortune. Aaron knew my neighbor was rich, not filthy rich but rich enough to have nice things inside that house. The bastard even had a pool. So we decided to empty the house, put Aaron into hiding in my uncle’s lodge a couple of hours outside of town and then when everything had cooled down, we would sell everything in an orderly fashion. That way he would get enough money to sustain himself until he could find a proper job. His life spark was lit once more.
We opened up a section of the fence between my neighbor’s yard and mine, when this was done we started to carry out all their furniture and belongings through the back door and into my yard and to a big moving truck I had rented. It took us about four nights to clear the entire house of everything that was not nailed down to any walls or floor. From their house into the truck and then off to an offsite storage unit that was open 24/7. During the days we would move stuff out of my garden just to keep my other neighbors’ curiosity at bay so they wouldn’t wonder why I had a moving truck in my possession without moving anything. And it seemed to work, I only got the usual questions “Clearing out for summer eh?”, “while you are at it why don’t you move some stuff from my yard as well!” and so on, everything with a chuckle quickly following the statement, to let me know it was a joke.

The sixth day came and we entered the now empty house, the only thing that was left, was the curtains, these only kept to try to turn this empty shell of a house into something that was more alive than dead. With curtains you can’t really see what’s inside and thus you don’t know that anything is wrong. I thumped him in the head with a baseball bat; he fell hard on the floor and passed out. It was time.

I brought forth my heavy duty fishing line and tied that around each of his fingers and then attached it to a larger rope that I let hang from one of the beams in the ceiling. The rope was also tied as a noose and wrapped around Aarons neck. It was quite an intricate build actually. I don’t think that it ever had been done before. It was intended as a two step process where first his fingers would be torn off by the sheer weight of his body, and with the fingers gone he would fall down to be hanged the god old fashioned way. Aaron started to wake up as I hoisted him up in the air. He started to scream, or he tried to anyway, the cloth I had put in his mouth really put a stop to that. And actually, it almost looked as the filthy animal was in pain. Excellent.

After about 2 hours he stopped kicking. I guess he realized that it didn’t hurt as much if he was still than if he was flaying about whilst hanging there. This did not really please me and something definitely had to be done. He was not here for leisure. He was here for pain. No pain, no fucking gain! It appeared as if the lines I had used were a lot stronger than I initially had suspected and now it was time to put them to a real test. I took some rope and fastened it to his legs. I anchored it to my chair, but the rope was not long enough to let the chair rest comfortably on the ground. It was tilting about 50 degrees.

Aarons eyes widened when he realized what was about to happen. I looked at him and smiled. He had panic in his eyes. I sat down ever so gently and the muffled sound of his screams, they were like music to my ears. I put a tad more weight on the chair and saw his legs stretch out a bit more and how the now very torn fingers were struggling to hold together at their joints. His feet were right in front of me and if I put up my arms in the air I could reach his knees. I took a knife and did a small cut on the left side of his left knee, trying to sever some of the tendons holding everything together. Aaron passed out so I stopped for the time being, no point continuing when he can’t feel it.

While he was passed out I took a ladder and checked the status of his fingers. A few of them were about to snap, give it a few more hours and he would fall towards his death. How much pain can a man handle before he dies from the pain itself? Can one die from pain alone or does it only drive you mad? This was something I had to explore. But not with Aaron, no Aaron was precious.

When he woke up I started to talk to him, I wanted to let him know why this was happening to him and what he had done to deserve it. So he would understand and not judge me. He must understand that I did this for his benefit. I did a cut on the right side of his left knee, he winced. Interesting, his pain threshold had increased. I sat down on the chair and heard his knee joint make this violent SNAP. He screamed, oh how he screamed, it was like music. Shortly after the fingers gave in, he plummeted to his death. His body twitched violently when the noose around his neck was tightened. Aaron was no more, time of death, Thursday 6am.

I cut him down from the ceiling and put him in the lower floor bathtub for safe keeping whilst I took care of the mess I had created in the living room. And this is where my perfect crime turned out not to be so perfect after all. Apparently my dear neighbor decided to cut the vacation short. So while I was sitting on my knees, on the floor, trying to get all the blood taken care of, they had walked in through the back entrance and straight into the bathroom. That scream was also beautiful but not in the same way as a tormented scream. And I guess I looked a bit odd where I sat in a pool of blood with my cleaning gear around me when they stormed into the living room. Needless to say, I was caught red handed, no pun intended.

One might say that I killed two men that day. Aaron was one, and I also killed myself. Tomorrow, Thursday at 6am the electricity will be turned on and I will be turned off. The world works in silly ways.

I still think he was filthy.