just got home from the regular walk at night. five minutes after me my flat-mate returns home as well. stone-drunk. the european cup is to blame. instead of joking or conversing, what does he do? nit-picking. according to him the smoke wanders out of my room and into the floor outside. so he demanded me to have the door closed. I was like 'alright, boy. I think you forgot to take your pills!' Of course, I said something else and watched him staggering back into his room. Dude, I need to get away from this crazy street with its crazy residents. And I will. Soon.

Anyway, what's really important is ... Michael and me, we were text-messaging for most of the day. I sent him a poem one of my cousins wrote. Really cute and astonishingly wise for an 11-year-old. Then Michi said he'd gonna go out for a walk, reclaiming his energy (he strained his foot at the lake). I knew instantly that I wanted to go for a walk, too. But of course I didn't tell him. I was kind of hoping that - if fate has it - we'd stumble on each other anyway. And of course, I could've told him so we could have met on purpose. Call me crazy, but I think it way more romantic believing in a coincidence that would make us cross our paths some way or another. We did not meet. But still, the walk was good. Refreshing. As is mostly the case when it's soon after it stopped raining. In a way, I think it sort of exciting to have the certainty that there's someone out there. Somewhere. Longing for the exact same thing as you are. Feeling the exact kind of void that needs to be filled. Somehow. Somewhere. Isn't that an uplifting thought? To know that you have the best part still in front of you? I really do think so. And I don't necessarily mean that with regards to Michael. More on a general level. Whoever you are. Wherever you are. We'll meet. Come hell or high water.

By the way, Siobhan Donaghy's 'Overrated' makes for a great walk-on-your-own-at-night-song. The feeling is indescribable.