Flair, my own term, when the words are dancing or close to dancing, is gone. Sometimes it is gone.

Feelings. I normally don’t talk about feelings. I mean I write about them all the time, you just have to read-between-the-lines or comprehend.

In this there will be some flat-out feelings.

It has been a somber day, with also a big project completed in the morning.

Coffee makes me concentrate. Coffee is my ADD medicine.

Battling father.

Battling arabs.

Trying to get ''avier'' and similar.

Father makes me depressed, worried, anxious, confused, makes me question myself, and lowers my self-esteem, which is normally good.

So today’s occasion with the arabs, ali a (not ali m) waited for me with evil intentions; he has done that before, and that is… Stalking. The police don’t take me seriously, so I asked father to intervene.

Bland annat, dess agenda. Well it is a big mess. One pertinent life-lesson I have used today is ''It is not what you know, but who you know.''

Well, that makes for a lot of email, and sms.

Another life-lesson I applied today, the best you can do with the system (etablissemanget) is to confuse it.

Father is authoritative and to government institutions melts some. A real dweeb. Ultra-sad. Because he is supposed to be helping me because he put me in this position? Yes, is the answer.

Oh, by the way, ali a is a worker at this group-living place.

Things are at a stand-still.

Negotiations are at a stand-still.

The agenda is partly ali a unacceptable behavior.

Father to government institutions melts some.

The morning, 09.19 (am a number nerd) the final letter/brev was posted/postad in a yellow government mailbox.

How do I feel about this?

I haven’t had the time to feel, other than good that it is done. It is the final letter to Josefine.

Wagering has been going bad the last couple of days. Money is not a problem in my life though.

  Signing out,   Isak