Dr · Erik · is · in · Your · Tubes · of · the · Internets.

I passed the knowledge test for the drivers license today!
Weeee!
Only the driving test to do...
Feels weird to do this stuff again, fifteen years after I first got my license.

The man hurries uphill. His hair is long and tangled, his beard dirty and unkempt, his clothes are hanging loosely on his skinny body. His dragging a cart full of garbage bags, bottles, rags, and other junk, and tries to balance a bike with hos other hand. Without looking, he steps out into the busy intersection. The cars breaks and stops silently before him. Letting him pass. He knows no one will run him over. No one will slam their breaks with screaming tires. No one will honk their horn, give him the finger, or look annoyed at him.
No one dares.

It's the only power he has left.
The power to be crazy.
The power to, maybe, just maybe, go mad; throw his bike at anyone who dares provoke him, heave his cart full of junk at the car. Attack you with a syringe full of heroin and AIDS.

So he crosses the road undisturbed, stops as the bike threatens to topple over, grabs for the cart that has started to roll back out into the street. When he's safely up on the opposite sidewalk, the flow of the traffic starts again, as though nothing has happened.

The man disappears behind a corner, and he is gone.

Today I saved a poor kitten (a very beautiful and friendly birman) that was locked out in the hallway.

I was hoping that the owners wouldn't be home. But they were, unfortunately.
But I got to cuddle a little bit, anyway.

I have sorted all my music according to album, and am currently working my way though my complete collection, in order.

It adds up to 8909 tracks, in 1296 albums, by 924 artist. Just short of 28 days playing time.
So far I've listened to 190 songs (currently listening to no 191: Frank Sinatra - I Did It My Way), and I am still listening to the tracks that have no designated album.

Wonder how long I last before I skip a track.

And I just realized who Sarah Jessica Parker looks like...

"It’s clear. It’s a clear autumn day."
Dr Erik looks up from the book he’s been reading. E is huddled up on the floor behind his chair, his legs tightly pressed against his chest. Dr Erik has long since given up trying to get him to sit in the chair.
"Yes, it’s autumn. Do you know what day it is today."
"It’s an autumn day."
"Yes, it’s an autumn day. And it’s Su-."
"It’s an autumn day. A clear autumn day, with small, woolly clouds that slowly drifts across a blue sky. When the sun sets they will be colored red and orange, like the leaves on the trees. I like the autumn. It’s so beautiful, all the colors, all the fallen leaves on the ground. And it’s cold. Cold and clear, so you almost can see people breathing."
E falls silent, puts his chin against his knees, bites his lip. Dr Erik thinks about his other patient, how similar they are. And yet so different. So unique, in their own ways. It’s also a unique opportunity for Dr Erik. Very trying, but also very rewarding.
"I like the autumn. All colors are changing, the leaves fall to the ground, and everything is preparing for the winter. All the birds fly south, and everything dies. I don’t like the autumn. Everything just dies and dies and dies and disappears."
E starts rocking on the floor. His forehead hits the chair every time he leans forward.
"It just rains and rains, gray and lousy weather, windy and everything dies and disappears. But at the same time it’s beautiful, sunny days, pretty colors, everything falls asleep, prepares for the winter, prepares to live again, wake up, come back in the spring. And I don’t like that everything just dies, but it’s so beautiful, so much life."
E talks faster and faster, quieter.
"I don’t like the autumn, everything becomes so pretty, I like the autumn, everything just dies and it’s beautiful and dies and pretty and dies pretty dies beautiful…"
His voice is nearing hysteria, saliva sprays from his mouth, the sound of his forehead hitting the chair reverberates through the room. Dr Erik puts down his book and notes on the little table, takes a deep breath and says in a calm voice,
"Tell me about your mother, E."


- Originally posted in Swedish at helgon.net -
Sunday the 7th of October 2007, 21:27

It is not cheap at IKEA.
But tomorrow I'll have a bed, and won't have to sleep on the floor anymore.

Well, I've been here for a while now. The trip went well. A limousine was waiting to drive me home at the airport. Moved in. Started work. I've even got my own office!

Some pictures can be seen in my photo gallery.
Click click!

But not near good enough.
Did not manage to leave Sweden last week. Making a new attempt tomorrow, at 6:45. Arriving Friday noon (12:05). Professor Plotkin has arranged for me to be picked up. Nice!
Probably I'll crash on Chris' couch for the night. Not sure he's really aware of that... Well, you will be, won't you, Chris?
Some other time I'll write more.
See you soon, kids!

/Dr E. Abrahamsson

Now there you can see some pictures from when I nail my doctoral thesis in my photo gallery. And don't forget my dissertation next Tuesday! I'm serving lunch afterwards, and everyone's welcome. Even you!

Soon I'll post some pictures of my snow men, as well. Until then, click here!

Now the thesis is printed.
200 copies are sitting in boxes on the floor behind me here in the office.
Cool.

I've added some photos to my photo gallery from when Bejij, G-son, Jimmy and me went to Absynth for a night out.
I've never been to the club (well, it was it's second night), nor to the venue, Röda Sten, which is in an old factory building. It was a fun night!

Last night I had my first nightmare about my dissertation
Is that normal?


They say it is, apparently.

A.E. 4 is soon to be released, for those who are interested.

And for those who don't have a choice.

Perhaps tomorrow I can build a snow man?

My friends Laura and Jonas came down from Stockholm to visit me and hall, and to attend the concert by Laibach, who also were nice enough to visit us.

Of course we did lots of other things that weekend. All those things were documented, and can be seen if you click here.

Clicky!

( Merry Christmas! )

"It’s sunny."
Dr Erik had barely entered the room. He was still standing in the doorway; E was in the room in front of him, the not completely deserted hallway was behind him.
"How does that make you feel, E?"
Dr Erik let the door slide shut behind him; the silence in the corridor outside was exchanged for another kind of silence in the small room.
"I don’t always like the sun."
"What makes you feel that way?"
"I just don’t always like the sun."
The room had a light yellow colour today. Sun-yellow, perhaps. Dr Erik wasn’t sure about how to name colours, really. Sun-yellow seemed as a suitable word, considering E’s comment. Maybe the colour had affected him. But it had been sunny, the last time Dr Erik had looked outside. A blue sky with a few thin, white veils high above, and small, woolly clouds at the horizon.
"Why do you feel like that, E?"
"I sleep during the day when it’s sunny. And I’m awake at night, when the sun is gone. I sleep under the table. I put a mattress on the floor, to make it soft. Pile pillows, and hang blankets, so that the sun can’t see. It becomes rather cosy. Then I sleep there during the day. Sometimes. When the sun is watching."
E tried to move his hands, as if to illustrate how his little fortress would look like. It didn’t really work; he didn’t seem to be aware of the nylon straps tying him to the chair. Dr Erik remembered the pillow-castles of his childhood. Or if it was something he had seen in a movie sometime? He couldn’t really remember, but he knew what they should look like. He studied E, followed the restricted movements of his hands. The straps on his legs looked rather tight, actually. And he could see that E was sweating on his forehead, under the gray strap. It really did not seem comfortable.
"And I sit there, in the, darkness, waiting. Under the table."
"What are you waiting for?"
"For it to be light again."
"For it to be light again?"
"So I can sleep. When the sun comes up."
"So you sit under the table, even though the sun isn’t out?"
Dr Erik didn’t really understand what E was talking about. Should he have built pillow-castles? When? Was that also something he had read about, or seen in a movie? But how? Sometimes Dr Erik wished he knew more about E.
"Tell me about your mother, E."


- Originally posted in Swedish at helgon.net -
Tuesday the 1st of May, 18:24

"It’s windy."
It really was. An icy cold spring wind came in from the north. Dr Erik had seen how the trees appeared to try to shake the fresh leaves off their branches as he passed a window in the corridor.
"The wind makes you remember. How easy it is. To lose something. It’s so easily done, to lose. You just turn around. It exists, you have it, and then it’s suddenly gone."
"Have you lost anything, E? Do you want to talk about it?"
"It’s so easy. You just push a button. Or walk away. It was there – so strong, so clear. Suddenly it’s just gone. As though it never existed. You look out the window, and it’s no longer there. Gone. Lost. Forever. As though it never existed. But it has to have been there, hasn’t it? I remember it being there, before it disappeared. If it never existed, how could it have disappeared? So easily."
Dr Erik made no notes of what E said. He had it all written down, word by word, from numerous occasions. Always on windy days.
"Like the wind. It disappears. It doesn’t exist. It blows away."
Silence.
"Have you lost anything, Doctor?"
A question. That was something new. Dr Erik reached for the notepad on the table. The question intrigued him, but also worried him. And about the weather… How does he know…? Dr Erik studied E, met his gaze. For once it was steady, not turning away.
"What do you think about your loss, Doctor? How does it make you feel?"
"Can you tell me what you have lost, E?"
"You’ve lost something, Doctor. Something you thought you had. But without noticing anything, it disappeared. As though it was quick, but it was so very slow. How did that make you feel?"
E still hadn’t looked away. He gazed steadily, without blinking, into Dr Erik’s eyes. He has blue eyes, like me. For some reason Dr Erik felt surprised. He never imagined that E could have an eye color.
"But it’s not me we are here to talk about, is it? We’re here to talk about you, E. Isn’t it so?"
"No."
The voice was determined. Changed tone, soft now.
"Was it hard, that it took such a long time? That it disappeared so slowly, that you could see it, without being able to prevent it? You should have been able to prevent it, shouldn’t you? Don’t you wish that it had disappeared suddenly? As if the wind had caught it, without you being prepared? Or as if you had turned around and left it behind, by your own free will? But you do wish it never had disappeared?"
Dr Erik started to feel uncomfortable. E had never acted like this before. And he was ashamed that E could make him feel like this, see right through him. But he had been unprepared. That’s it. It could have happened to anyone. E could be difficult and unpredictable at times. All he had to do was to convince himself of that, and regain the command.
"Tell me about your mother, E."


(First written Saturday the 31st of March 2007, on flight LH 493 between Vancouver and Frankfurt. Finished Monday the 1st of May 2007, on train 671 from Karlstad to Göteborg, somewhere outside of Åmål.)


- Originally posted in Swedish at helgon.net -
Tuesday the 1st of May, 18:19

Breathe in.
Breathe out.


One breath at a time.
No more.


It goes well.

"It’s been very cold."
E is standing in the corner, facing the wall, with his back to Dr Erik. The words are coming out very cautiously and slowly, as though they are fragile and might break at the slightest movement. Dr Erik closes his eyes, composes himself, and thinks a quiet thank you to himself. It’s the first words E has uttered in two months.
"But it’s warmer now."
He raises his arms, slowly, touches the wall lightly, feels the structure of the wallpaper. You can see the eyes following the movement of the hands, intensively, as though it’s a completely new experience.
"How does it make you feel, E?"
Silence.
Dr Erik dares not to say anything, dares not to move. Perhaps…
"Lonely."
It’s only a whisper. To the wall.
"Why don’t you come and sit here? In the chair?"
Immediately Dr Erik realizes his mistake. E retracts, the eyes grow distance, if nothing is done, quickly, he’ll shut off again, God knows for how long this time. And there is no time for that. Dr Erik needs results. E needs it too, but he knows nothing of that.
There is only one option.
"Tell me about your mother, E."


"I’ve heard that before", she said.
"What?"
"Yes, I’ve heard it before."
A quick laugh.
"What? Heard before? The music?"
"No. That. What you said."
"What? Heard what? I’m not following you."
"Well, yes, I’ve heard it before. What you just said. It’s you. Now."


- Originally posted in Swedish at helgon.net -
Tuesday the 24th of January 2006, 18:56