I will now start telling about my life. Many strange things happen to me here in Western countries.

Today I meet with customer. He is a nice man, he works in municipality, he is kind of social worker and gives much money all the time to people from East. People like me.

(I make joke. Ha hahaha).

Anyway, so social worker man is very tired and sad man. He is always shaking head, and afterwards he sit with head buried in hands.

He wants to be talking.

Which means I listen. So I listen and afterwards I talk.

He tells me this story:

He goes to gym. He goes to gym to be working out. There he meets with a colleague from municipality. The colleague is, what do u say, like a advokat, like a lawyer and reads peoples papers. Papers that ask for pension and help from municipality.

Some people are sick, and some people would like to be sick.

At first I think, liking to be sick, is Western priviledge, but no. I tell u, it exists in every places.

Every places where people cant find, what do u call it, justice.

So illness in body becomes sign to the world, injustice is truth.
U can see injustice in my body. Its a mark on my body. A sign I dont want to go away. I look for proof of injustice everywhere, and everyday injustice in my body tell me, I am right.

But now I dont listen, I talk, I will go back to story.
It is a very strange story, I tell u, and so tomorrow, I will continue telling about a man telling story of a woman in gym.

Good nite and good luck.