Sins of our fathers

I read a book a few years ago. It was called "The law of Success" and was written by Napoleon Hill 100 years ago. He broke the book down on different chapters, talking about determination, having a goal and habits. Developing the right habits was quintessential to him and then maintaining them to reach your goal of personal and financial freedom. We live in a world dominated by capitalism and materialism after all.

My favorite habits were 3. 

The first one was the habit of saving money, because I always had to survive on scraps and my life was much easier if I had to forgo some material items that I did not need, like a high end computer or traveling to Puerto Rico.

The second one was having a clear goal of what I want to become and where I want to go in life. It allowed me to focus on graduating even through the darkest times this year and after that it has been to find a job in a big construction company. I am one step closer to that one.

The third and last one was the habit of giving without expecting to receive back. The whole idea was that if you give something like help, without expecting something in return, one day you would receive back 100 times more. Since 2014 I made it my goal to help people without expecting something in return, but hoping and believing that they would do it in their own free will.

I helped girls that moved to Stockholm having no home and let them sleep in my house until they found something, I helped another one that cried the first day in Sweden because she felt overwhelmed. I showed another one for hours and hours in the city so she gets familiar with things. I did the same for a french couchsurfer that was almost harassed by a Brazilian guy in his house and cried at night. I gave my seat to a pregnant woman and another time to an elderly lady with a lot of bags. I was the best I could be to Anna. I am helping the war-torn areas in Ukraine. I offered a seat in the business dinner for greek consultants to another girl that would have to start looking for a job soon.

I did all those because I wanted to. I answered Nikoleta's questions even at 1-2 in the morning or any time of the day. I slept 4 hours outside my house because Irene had my keys and I was locked out of my house after working for 12 hours. I was nice to people just because I wanted to. Nobody messages me though or thinks about how am I doing anymore. Meh what can you do!

It is understandable. They have their own student lives and friends they make there. I am alone. Officially after that shitty night 1 month ago. It is ok I have finally some form of peace. But I was thinking today. How do you make friends? Not acquaintances. Friends. People you can rely on, talk about issues and stuff. I do have some. Josefine is the only one that frequently enough messages me and tries to teach me swedish. Kostas calls me on the phone and we hang out in swedish class. But I need someone to hang out and meet, not have a relationship through a virtual console and behind a keyboard. Last January I had everything I ever wished for and I tossed it all away. The 17th of January. And I am still paying for it. Σου είπα θα σε αγαπώ για πάντα.

What is our purpose in this world? Is it to pass someones genes and beliefs? Are we bound to what is written into our genetic code or can we break away from it? Are you a slave to your destiny or fate if you believe in it and your desires? But what if you pass away the wrong message? Or who decides what sort of information is right or wrong?

I chose to break free from what was passed away to me when I grew up mostly because I wanted to form my own opinion about things, keep my mind open and grow as a person. I think I have done ok. A lot of people have called me one of the best people they have ever met or the best thing that has happened in their lives. Those are the ones that hurt me the most. They will never write back again.

Soon a week will have passed from my big interview and I am anxiously waiting for the response as I will be saved. I will be saved in ways all of you cannot even fathom. So that is my first priority for now. And when I nail that job I will become something better. I will slowly change the world somehow. And then I will make a family, finally with someone that wants one and has the same goal as me. I will forge my own destiny from blood and bone.

Hej då.

All dogs go to heaven

The rain was slowly falling down on my head as I was walking back home from work. I was in the final stretch at huvudsta, in that beautiful straight long road that is full of winter leaves and yellow colors now. I just wanted to go sleep and escape from the real world once more. Why? As I said fellow babies, I cannot seem to catch a break. But it's going to be alright. If anything, never give up, never surrender.

I was afraid to sleep. The other day after I dropped Nikoleta, who is a friend that just arrived in Stockholm and the poor thing gets stressed so easily, I went to have a beer with Amanda. The moment I was about to get out of the subway a girl around her 27's fell down on the last step of the stairway and her leg broke in an awkward angle. It was horrific. I held her hand while she was crying and left when the paramedics came. The clash of bone and sinew sent shivering chills down my spine.

Be well in doggie heaven...

Wicky died yesterday. Wicky was the most gentle, beautiful Belgian Shepherd dog of all time. She had bone cancer and she went to dog heaven. I learned about it when I was at work and I cried in the subway, I cried in the apartment too. Every time she saw me, she would drag her old 10 year old body towards me, lie down on the floor, lift her back leg up and wait for me to scratch her belly. Every time I was in the kitchen, she would come sit next to me and look with those patient beautiful eyes that sucked you inside to have a piece of cheese. And some other times, she would climb on top of me and hug me like a human being. I would hug her back and love her with everything I had. Goodbye Wicky.

Other than that my dreams are weird as usual. Nightmares or just plain weird. I do not understand them, but I have ceased trying to. I remember an abandoned train stop that was being constructed and me walking with two friends, Yiannis and Kostas. We met a kid and his father who also happened to be Greek. His name was Andreas.

The dream shifted to my car being slowly losing pieces. In the end only the skeleton was left. I went into a Greek place to buy souvlaki and ended up fighting with someone. I shouted so hard he went under the table. I bought a Coke for 50 cents. Bargain I tell you.

Today I ended up speaking to Lionel Messi and being in a massive conference with my cyborg suit. I remember dogs and sadness. In the end I helped a fat guy in an abandoned endless slope and we teleported away. Turns out some guys from Poland wanted to know more about me and my suit. Apparently in my dream I can speak perfect polish too. I woke up. Alone. The rain still hammers the house like a sledgehammer and I am inside, tucked inside my blanket, writing these words, waiting for the next best thing.

Goodbye Wicky. I will see you in dog heaven.