It's time to go now. It's time to pack bags and say goodbyes and step on towards anywhere but here. So, I write a thousand words and I let them spin and twist into the great big void. Words about a cold and beautiful Scandinavia, of clients made of smiles and handshakes and of endless insomniac nights (laptop on, forever on) in Radisson Blu and Clarion and Scandic hotel. I wonder where I am going of course. I think about where I might end up naturally. There is a part of me that asks: where did I go wrong? But deep down I know that this is not about me, but all about you.

And that anywhere will be better than now.

David Ford – State Of The Union

Fate

M: Us Irish say sha...
I: I'm not Irish. 
M: Once we sort this you'll be fuckin' Irish.

Flogging Molly – Devil's Dance Floor

Two peas in one pod

M: I'm a little skinnier than when you last saw me. 
I: Really? 
M: Ya. 
I: But you are not exactly a fleshy man to begin with... 
M: I know. I just keep eating and eating, but I don't seem to put on weight. 
I: Perhaps you have worms. 
M: What? 
I: Well, if you have worms you tend to be able to eat a lot without putting on any weight. 
M: I DON'T HAVE WORMS WOMAN! 
I: Hehe, riteo. 
M: What the hell kind of thing is that to say to a man? 
I: Life's a bitch and so am I -- you should know that by now.

 Rihanna – Rude Boy