Smack my ass and call me Judy

I was sitting on the roof the hole day. It was raining. In my hand I had a cup of coffee. It was fogy and I couldn´t see the Fernsehturm. It might have been for the best, it´s not that exciting after all. But I saw the roofs closest to me. That was grand, and red. I think there´s nothing better than to sit on a roof for hours. It´s mighty in a way, to be so unreachable and I like the idea of nothing happening. It didn´t have a purpose to go up on the roof- I could have been drinking my coffee inside like I usally do. But I don´t know, it just feelt good there. The picture of myself sitting quite on the roof was breathtaking. However, it wasn´t the same thing like in my head, but things usally isn´t.

And then it suddently feelt like something big was about to happen. A plane catching fire or a bird flying into one of those chimneys. I don´t think that happens alot, they have pretty good sight. But nothing happend. I could hear the cars slowing down to make a turn on the crossroads and some kids playing in a distance. Kids are always out playing in the rain. It was the best time when I was little I remember. Jump in puddles and make castles in the sand that would quickly desolve in the heavy rain. Almost like those munks making complex and great figures in different colors of sand. They work on it for months and months and when they are completly finished they destroy it. Just like that, after all that work they put it in a jar. Just because everything is evanescent. They have something going there those munks. Beeing so determent and hardworking they could be really good at putting up a hotel or starting a new fastfood branch. They could be extremly successful. But instead they make beautiful sand art. It´s very wise of them, I think.

I´m not that wise. I do a lot of stupid things all the time. Like going from work earlier just because I´m finished with everything, but I should acctually stay until the end, the bitter end. Or someone should. That could be me. I know this but at that time I just want to lay down and listen to Nic Jones. He is a great british folksinger and one of his songs is about that he is going to lay down on a field and that there are grass and flowers and other things all around him. It makes me wanna do that too. But then I realise that I´m stuck in a hostel making things shine. It´s alright though, I can lay down on the roof on my free time.

I can´t wait for things to start blossom and get warm again. Then I can sit on the roof longer and I can bring a book with me, or picnic and other people maybe. That´s the problem with the warmth- other people might go up on their roofs aswell. They can do what they want, but it might get crowded. And it wont be the same. Maybe I just go up there when it rains. But eventually I have to go down. I had to move down two floors to make buns. From unreachable to reachable. Buns are somewhat communicative.