Anxious Woolly Bodies

Some books are written for the sole reason of having me read them. I know that no one but me will ever believe this. In fact, I know that the authors would laugh at me for having such a bizarre take on their literary works. But, if you read often enough (and I know you are out there (Mike C., Kelly G., Jen S. and Eva)), you will understand what I mean. Sometimes you read passages of a book and you think to yourself "am I being spied on"; or "wow, I never knew anyone else thought of a bridge the way I do".

I continued reading Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist, a spectacularly spooky, brilliant, and bittersweet book that I can't even begin to explain. While reading it last night there were a few passages that I believe were written for me. Here are excerpts from those passages, [my notes following]:

Passage page 255-

He knew exactly how it was going to go.
In an hour or so the bottle would be empty and Janne would go home.
Then Dad would pace...decide he needed to talk to Oskar.
He would come into Oskar's room and he would no longer be Dad. Just an alcoholic-...

[I think the author must have met my father, or, is it that all alcoholics with young children do this, forcing their children to think that an evil monster is inside their father, taking over Dad's body?]

Passage page 285-

I'm not completely normal.
...organic machines with the brains turned off.

[This is what humans are, organic machines, few would agree with me on this. When we die, our brains are turned off for good. No button to push in order to make them come back on . . . or maybe there really is!]

Passage page 293-

The Traneberg Bridge. When it was unveiled in 1934 it was hailed as a minor miracle of engineering. ... One mighty single arc that soared ... . A life-weary senior, sorrowfully pondering the days when the heavens were brighter, the clouds lighter, and when it was still the longest single-span concrete bridge in the world.

[I do not believe that there are many people in the world that would ever speak on bridges as having a human context. I see a bridge and see its functioning parts, its ragged body, and its desire to be noticed as a bridge instead of some path people take to get from Point A to Point B. Every bridge is significant to me, not only in its purpose as a path, but for its engineering.]

Passage page 297-

Ten minutes later the first patrol car had turned up and the first thing the officers did was check the stables, nervous, their guns out and ready.
The sheep had become restless and before the officers were done combing the building the whole place was a seething mass of anxious woolly bodies, loud bleating, ...

[Uh, yea, sheep. I like sheep. They are cool little dudes. I'm not completely normal. ]

Words of the day:

nowt: Nothing, zero

In use: Can you lend me some money, I haven't been paid yet so I have nowt.

bakeage: Drugs that get you baked.

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