When rainy summer days puts a stop to playing the worlds playground outside, I play it inside with a Paolo Nutini Marathon on Youtube, stay in bed til noon and dream my self away to warmer countries with pictures from all my travels,I read my new book Winter in Madrid and dream about gentlemen and wartime heroes, and keep myself updated on the world by all my electronic media.
And all of the sudden reality hits me with news about bombs in Oslo in Norway, death and terrorist and bloody pictures. And I think that the world has gone insane. I didn't get angry, I just got sad. For the people who lost someone in the attacks, for the injured and shocked people, the people who has to clean it all up and even for the possible people behind the attack. Why do they feel that they need to do this to get attention; who has hurt them so much that they need to hurt other people? Why haven't we learned anything from history and where is the line between good and bad!
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