Diary of thoughts

  When I got laid off from the metal-plastic window factory, I went on unemployment benefits and could calmly wait for a new job. I liked this kind of vacation. I wasn’t worried about work at all; somehow, I just knew it would come. About two months into my break, in the middle of the night, I heard banging and some shouting. A woman’s voice was yelling, “Mark, open the door!!!” The banging was so loud that at first, I thought it was at my door. I checked the time—it was two in the morning. I got out of bed, got dressed, and went to the front door. When I opened it, about two meters to my right, I saw a woman. She was sloppily dressed in slightly dirty clothes, with tangled, greasy hair, and her face was covered in snot and drool. She was heavyset and pounding on my neighbor’s door with her big fists. When I stepped out, she gave me a quick glance and continued her tantrum. I asked her what was wrong and why she wouldn’t stop—half the floor was already awake, but my neighbor still ...

  After sorting through my situation with Aura, I decided to write her one last letter. Though I thought I’d accept any outcome after she read it, deep down, I desperately hoped to talk to her. And that hope blinded me. In the letter, I wrote that I’m unpacking my past and seeking redemption and forgiveness for what I did. I thought that if she forgave me, it wouldn’t be hard for her to reply, and if she hadn’t, talking to each other would be better for both of us. I wrote about that too. I sent the letter to the accounts I could access; I didn’t know where I was blocked, so I could only hope she’d receive it. But the next day, I was sure she got it. In Telegram, the chat with her disappeared. When I tried to find it, I saw she’d deleted my message and blocked me. Instead of reacting calmly, as I expected from myself, I was gripped by growing anger with every second. This could only mean one thing—she still hadn’t forgiven me and didn’t even plan to, even though two years had passe...

  It was an ordinary workday, during which nothing important or interesting happened. Or rather, something did happen, but it was only important to me. As usual, I walked around the shopping mall, sometimes sinking into my thoughts, sometimes trying not to think at all to rest from them. A couple with a stroller, holding a tiny infant, was walking toward me. As I passed them, I glanced at the baby for a second, looked into its eyes, and it was like a bolt of lightning struck me. Its gaze. It was so pure, so untainted, so unbiased. There was no pain, no joy, no regrets, no expectations, no courage, no fear—nothing in its eyes. It looked at the world with an all-encompassing gaze and saw things as they are. I only looked at it for a second, but that second was enough to plunge me into reflections that I’m now writing down. What if we’re supposed to keep that gaze? I’ve already thought about how most people seem to have someone else’s gaze. They don’t try to be themselves; they try to...

  It was my second day working as a security guard at a shopping mall in a small town in northern Manitoba. My partner and I arrived at the site, and our first task was to do a patrol (checking all the points located in different parts of the mall). Each point had an NFC chip that needed to be scanned through a mobile app. There were many points, so I volunteered to go alone to memorize their locations faster and better. One of the closed but still guarded areas was an old two-story hotel. It had plenty of interesting spots: a kitchen, storage rooms filled with junk, a bar, something like a conference area, service rooms, and, of course, lots of guest rooms. To remember where all the points were, I was as focused and attentive as possible. When I climbed to the second floor via the side emergency exit stairs, I felt something strange. After taking a few steps down the corridor toward the opposite exit, the feeling intensified. I didn’t understand what was happening and stepped slow...

  Today, I dreamed of Aura. At first, she was cautious with me, but in the end, she managed to forgive me, and it made us both feel lighter—especially me, because I was really glad about it. This dream means I still haven’t forgiven myself for everything I did. Maybe I could if I talked to her, but after what I did, I fell so low in her eyes that she probably wouldn’t even want to think about hearing from me again. This story begins in my teenage years, but it should start with meeting Aura. Back then, I was living in Poland, wanting to be a cool businessman and make lots of money. I achieved part of that dream because my friend and I had a small construction business with a fluctuating staff of 10-15 people. We took on various jobs: interiors, facades, roofs, demolition, restoration, cleanups… I mainly handled the people, organizing the work process, and bookkeeping, while my friend dealt with clients, materials, and equipment. And though it sounds decent, for some reason, we neve...

  Today, I decided to call my brother again. I think the purpose of my call can be called highly selfish because we haven’t talked for years, and when I decided to talk to him, it wasn’t out of brotherly love or anything like that. I think I’m just looking for people who have similar thoughts, views, and roughly the same depth of these thoughts. I love my brothers—recalling myself as a child, I think they were the most important example for me; I didn’t see freedom in anyone else as much as in them. They came to visit only a few times a year—maybe they didn’t think it was rare, since perception of different things is very individual, but I really wanted to see them more often, probably because I saw in them the very example I truly wanted to follow. I remember when they came, I always tagged along with them like a shadow, and when they talked, I usually stayed silent because I tried to soak up all the thoughts coming from them like a sponge. Even with their rare and short appearanc...