My son wakes me up anyway so I go running very early.
I prefer to go running this early, because I don’t want to meet any people while I am running.
That way the world is almost a beautiful place.
There is just me and the deserted streets, the air, the clouds above, no annoying sounds.
The triumphant feeling of exercising while the rest of the shit eaters are still in bed.
30 percent of Slovaks will soon get up to suppress their fear of death in a Church with its predictable rituals that give a false sense of security. The other 70 percent are in bed. A small number is staggering out of a night club where they only went to fruitlessly look for sex and in the process lost money and countless hours of productivity.
But you are running.
It’s like you own the city now.
You are using this Sunday to do stuff, while others are only using it to recover from a week spent at a mind numbing job in the world of corporate slavery.
It’s not happiness.
But it’s a hint of happiness. A whiff of it.
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