My Dream

Linus and Jaana are my siblings, we all are orphans. I hear them cry from around the corner, I run looking for them. As I get there, I face one of my childhood sights: a couple of nuns are herding a bunch of uniformed girls from the Catholic school (they looked at us, wild working class children, as evil beings to be avoided; even as children we were very aware of that). They are at the entrance of a dark, square shaped tunnel. Linus and Jaana are inside crying after trying to run away from the nuns, while them, nuns, try to block the exit perhaps involuntarily forcing them further inside.

Tonight's bed story: Batman

Once upon a time there was a man who owned lots of stores and companies. Thanks to them, he earned loads of money every day, and with it, he bought pretty things with which he filled his home because he thought that the more pretty things he had, the happier he will be. Since it was so much money that he earned, it was impossible for him to spend it all everyday, so, at sunset, he deposited all the remaining cash in a bank.

After a year, he had sooo much money saved in the bank that he thought he really should do something with it. What shall I do with so much money? -he asked himself one day looking at the rain outside behind one of the big windows of his silent house. Since he didn't know what to do, instead of paying more money to the people in the stores that made him get so much money, he decided to rather spend a bloody lot of money in a very expensive custom so that he could go around dressed like a bat...

Summer Scenes

My son watches me with interest as I go mad gesticulating in the air, with furious assassin fever, clenching my teeth and ranting about long winters and fucking insects of hell.

Then I recover. I remember that I always tell him that hurting other beings is wrong. I put on my patient and lovingful father voice, and I think of Saint Thomas Aquina.

They say that Saint Thomas Aquinas loved every single living thing, he loved everyone and everything, including telemarketing sellers and mosquitoes.

Well, I don't doubt his saintliness, but from all things in the world, I am sure of one: Mister Aquinas didn't ever live in Finland.

Family Theatre

Linus is having a bath, and plays with his plastic fishes in the water.
(Juanmi enters)

Juanmi: Linus, I think you need to wash your hair, it has been a long time since you last did.

Linus: No, my head no... nooo.

J: Yes, I know you don't like to get your head wet, but I really think you have to. Your hair is getting all tangled and you are getting rastas, see? All messed up.

L: Nooooooo...

J: OK, what do you think of this: you go on playing for a while and then we come back and wash your hair very carefully?

L: Yes, yes.

(Juanmi knows, but leaves)

(5 minutes later, Juanmi enters)

Eastern Breaks

I am aware that the unwritten rules of bloggers specifically forbid not writing for long periods neglecting your readership.

I'm sorry, I was abroad and, you know, it was not my intention.

Besides, except for you and myself, there is no such readership here either. It's hard to really care.

Just bear with me, OK? I have this childhood trauma that makes me afraid of not being loved anymore if I don't keep myself performing up to the expectations.

The paralyzing fear that, precisely and preciously, prevents me from performing up to the expectations.

Aaah, *inhales deeply* the wonderful aroma of everlasting childhood traumas.

A Happy Birthday

More often than not, when any special date arrives, I end being tagged as a killjoy with unresolved childhood issues. Which is true. But, mind you, today, parishioners, listen to the untold story, listen to:

Birthdays according to Kymmenen's Gospel.