Your anger is a gift

To listen to Rage Against The Machine and The Smiths in the morning is bliss. To look into the busy, lowered face of a person solving sodoku while Zach De La Rocha and Morrissey - respectively - sing of life, love, danger at fares and the death of capitalism.

Few people crowd the open, snow-filled areas of Liljeholmen today and I'm quite happy. I'm running about at work, doing stuff. I'm drowsy. It's quite the ordinary day, except for the drowsiness. It's as though the air is filled with warm shaving-foam and I'm moving through it in slow-motion.

Still. Still. Reminds me in some strange, unconscious way, of Renton's "logic" in the Relapsing-part of "Trainspotting":

Narrated by Renton. Focuses on his "friendship" with Begbie. Renton, Begbie and their girlfriends meet up for a drink before going to a party, but it ends when Begbie throws a glass off a balcony, hitting someone and splitting open their head. After this, Begbie smiles at Renton and proceeds to announce to the party he will find whoever threw that glass before attacking random innocent people in the pub and setting off a huge pub brawl. Renton concludes his thoughts on Begbie saying "He really is a cunt ay the first order. Nae doubt about that. The problem is, he's a mate n aw. What kin ye dae?"

Time to work some more again and try to finish off the Miranda July-book I'm reading now in order to either start with Chuck Palahniuk's "Rant" or Sarah Silverman's "The Bedwetter", two of the books X have bought me this xmas. Sweetest ever.