So yeah I'm sitting here wondering why I'm alone, listening to stupid sad songs, a bit of wine and more beer waiting for me. 26 this year, each passing day reminds me of how dear life is. I just want to quit everything and go pick apples in a place where they grow them. New Zealand, maybe. Maybe I watch too many movies, maybe I read too many books, on one hand I am comfortable where I am, and on the other I feel that life is too short for trivialities.

I could pick apples for half a year, then move to another country and be a fisherman for another half a year. Somehow, I don't know which movie or book it was (could have been the one that starred Julianne Moore, Shipping News or something, I'm too lazy to google it), I've always wanted to be a fisherman in Newfoundland or Norway.

And I'm thinking to myself, 2011 started off with such a bang, all that travelling, why the sudden let go of steam? Fucking hormones.