Free Naïve Super by Erlend Loe

am not ashamed about having thoughts like these. Maybe I should have had them before. I don’t know when people usually think about these kinds of things. Some probably do it as early as age fifteen. I didn’t. But I’m thinking about them now. And I’m not ashamed. The whole point of sitting in this flat is just so that I can have these kinds of thoughts. I hope things will get better when I am finished thinking. As a matter of fact there are quite a lot of things I do appreciate.
    This is what I appreciate:
    – Hammering
    – Throwing
    – Sitting on the loo
    – Sun
    – Eating
    – Trees
    – Friendship
    – Beaches
    – Girls
    – Swans
    – Sleeping and dreaming and waking up
    – Having someone stroke my back (rare)
    – Music (All You Need is Love)
    – Children (Børre)
    – Water
    – Driving a car
    – Cycling
    If only I had a feeling that things fit together and that everything will be all right in the end. It would be so good.
    Maybe I am spending too much time alone. I ought to spend more time outdoors. Maybe talk to someone. Who would I talk to? Kim is so far away and Kent is a bad friend. I could always chat to my parents, but I don’t like worrying them with my problems. I’d rather they believe I am well and getting better all the time.
    When I was little, Dad and I used to walk around our house. He would hold my hand and then we’d walk around the house. For some reason I recall it as a very good and meaningful thing. We lived in the house. It was where I ate and slept. And we also walked around it.
    I take a break from hammering and cycle up to my parents to tell Dad I’d like to walk around the house with him.
    He has just had his afternoon nap and thinks it’s a little strange. I tell him not to ask any questions. I tell him I need it. I need to know what it feels like to walk around the house with him. It’s part of something I’m working on, I tell him.
    Dad puts on wellingtons and a coat, and then we walk around the house. Dad and I. We are walking all the way around the house.
    It’s not quite like it used to be, but it’s all right. I hadn’t thought walking around the house with Dad would solve everything. I had moderate expectations. Dad says we can do it again later, if I feel it’s necessary. I tell him it’s quite possible. Dad also says I ought to go out more. Meet people. Maybe a girl.

Girlfriends
    Why don’t I have a girlfriend? I can’t see any good reason. People not half as friendly as I have girlfriends. Idiots have girlfriends. I absolutely ought to have a girlfriend.
    There is a lot of injustice and idiocy in the world. I guess that’s part of my problem.
    Is it that unintelligent people are responsible for all the silly music and the idiotic books, magazines, films and all the animated foods in the TV commercials?
    Could it be that simple? Sometimes I think it is. It is a very plausible explanatory model. Quite attractive.
    Or is it that these people are not really stupid, that they mean well, but fail over and over again? That’s also a possibility. There’s a big difference between being stupid and just being unfortunate. One sure thing is the fact that they have girlfriends. Every single one of them. But not me.

The Pope
    I let myself into my brother’s flat and discover that Kim has faxed me an extremely long fax. It’s probably thirty metres long. It says the same thing almost a hundred times.
    Be not afraid.
    Kim has loop-faxed it. This is something he’s been talking about. He has dreamt about doing it for a long time. It’s apparently quite simple.
    You put the sheet into the fax machine the regular way and punch in the recipient’s number, and while the sheet goes through, you tape the two ends of the sheet together. That way the machine keeps sending the same message until it is stopped, or until the recipient runs out of paper. My entire roll of paper is spent. The expensive roll of thermal paper. It’s lying on the floor. All of it. It’s a