Är nere i Vassemåla nu, strax utanför Vimmerby. Inväntar morgondagen. Det kommer bli sjukt kul. Har svårt att minnas att det någonsin känts såhär bra. Skönt det.

Imorgon blir en transportdag. På lördag smäller det.

Thär are much that is fan in de wörld. For example läsing your blågg in da Google Transläjt. Här commes a låt åf fun quotes fråm previos inlägg.

It is rather a meditation state. A place to draw strength from. A löprunda by touch. A löprunda over hills, lawns, woods, stairs, trampolines and all what the hell you can now find.

For me it was 25 minutes in Koping, Twilight-style (in the twilight of dusk, not in a shitty piece of shit film fanatic, hormone-fueled teenage girls. I could just have written twilight but this way I get more visitors in the statistics as sit and google Twilight every four minutes. Type Amanda, age, 14, employment; send blood-soaked love letter to Robert Pattinson. But this was only a small parenthesis).

The remote looks a relevant goddamn mountain. Holy shit what is relevant. It's so damn appropriate that it is ... It's fucking definition of relevance. How relevant is it. Troubled relevant.

Relevant.

Mostly because I simply have not dried, just as I write-dried exercise diary. Filled anyway in the häromsisten one month's training. Over. But something is still pulling is to scan all these fucking maps. And then QR: a them.

SM approaching very soon and I can say as much as like this - I hit bottom. Damn far from the bottom up. From Mariana Trench up to Mount Everest.