He killed time. He was like in a prison. Locked up inside, no place where to go. Not a one chance to forget himself. Alone with himself. Nothing to say. How long it would be like this? One shouldn't fool himself with wishful thinking but neither should one sink into hopelessness. For this people take drugs and alcohol. To kill the boredom, the dead moments. He wished he was old and tired, so he could be content with just sitting on a rocking chair. He wished all the passion inside of him would burn and disappear, all his dreams would fade away. He had decided not to chew the cud alone. He tried not to think of the Goddess, he tried to forget her, but he couldn't. Maybe if he had got the chance to forget her, if he could have replaced her with someone else, but there was no one decent available. Only subsitutes as its best. To have the Goddess or to be able to forget her without pain - it was his biggest wish. But it was his hell too. He was on fire that he had lit by himself.
[translation by Saila]
Harri Teikka Resurrection Library