The Story Of Mister Sommer

So, I suppose you could say I read the book. And I liked it. One of those books that actually dosen't have meaning if you don't think her over afterwards. So here's my thinking about her. In the beginig, story is fictional. It goes on about flying, climbing on very high trees, and it's very natureally. If that part of the story supposed to be someones real childhood, it's very childly imagined. And that's how most of us rembers it. I like that. The main character describes himself trough mr. Sommer. Main character is also a writer and storyteller - one of the charateristic of modern fairytales (This is not a fairytale.) . I found it interesting that storyteller describes mr. Sommer trough seasons, it's like almost mr. Sommer is a nature himself. Mr. Sommer is very cryptic character. He spends his time walking around the woods. Very rarely you could see him in town, the main reason you could see other people wakling so much. Nobody knew who he was, but everybody knew him. "In that province hence lived, not even 2 miles away from us, men named 'Mister Sommer'. Nobody knew him by any other name, or his first name - everybody just and only knew him by the name 'Mr. Sommer'." He is also very diligent character. He always caries his stick around whit him, and after every third step he would switch that stick in front whit his right hand. He was like a clock. Rarely when you could see him standing somewhere. People tried to talk to him, but he was always in a 'hurry'. This all happens when boy (the main charracter) is still young, around 5 yeras old. He is kind of lonley, and that makes him a bit difirent than his friends. Soon we found out he has a love. His Carolina, wich, nevermind his age, he adores. He loves to read brother Grimm. It is mentioned that his older brother has read all the stories from them. Here we can see how they take reading as a 'surveyor' of maturity. Trough the whole book there are partial

references of physics. Seems like the writer was spellbound whit kinetics. Next, one of the most important part of the book is talking about his way of dealing life problems, one of things you realize when you are growing up. But here thy boy is only 5-7 years old. Wich is wierd given the fact he mentions phyiscs, and some other things that are really usual for a 5-year old. Here we found out that he attends piano classes. His teacher is Mrs. Funkel. "She sweard strange lot in that "madame" title, though I have never seen no women nor girl that shuold be less called like that. She was ancient, gray hairy, bowed and shriveled and straight as a board." There are some interesting explanations of how that all looks to the little boy. Funkel's mother, Funkel herself, and piano classes. "(...) and in general everybody in ours county knew to press at least one key." After one incident at Funkel's class boy gets very upset, and decides to kill himself. Again, he was 5 yeras old. Here is some part where many of us can recognize. Thinking how awfully world is unfair to us, and why us, and why so young. Sure you heard people killing themself before, but not at this age, so it must of been that you had so amazingly harder life than them, when it has lead you to this. So, the world must pay. As he is standing on a tree 30m tall, ready to jump, he hears something. It was Mr. Sommer. Sudenlly boy decides not to jump so fast, because he's woried for Sommer. But Mr. Sommer also looked kind of woried. He sat on the floor, took some beard from his backpack and started to eat devouringly. In no time he picked up everything and caried on walking. Now, boy is thinking otherwise. He was not angry any more nor scared. He almost laughed. "I couldn't understand how could I get to that silly idea: to kill myself over someones snots. Especially after I saw a men who is runing from death all his life." In the last chapter boy is all grown up, almost like ready for world. He notices how nobody cares about Mr. Sommer anymore. His wife died, and for folks he was just another silly old man. Later he saw a suicide of Mr. Sommer in the lake. He never told anybody about that. It took 2 weeks for someone to notice that Mr. Sommer is gone. In the end, nobody remberd the old lake, nobody ever discovered the truth about his death. All that a boy could rember was only real words from Sommer, that he said a long time ago when boy's father asked Mr. Sommer to give him a lift home ; "Oh, leave at peace for once, at least." Because of that words boy never told anyone about death of Mr. Sommer.

Now. I want to write about something concrete.
But I can nowise get to my mind.
And that's what bothers me. That is what bother's me.
Too much people, too much commercials.
Is it normal to be stuck in a croudly crowd?
Is it normal to be around so much people?
Is it in people nature?
We do have a big brain, but mostly we use it to survive.
Not to live. We use it. He uses us. That's sport.
We use brain, when doing something that includes thinking. But not like
learning history. I'm talking about writing, like crating something that
never existed before. Something creative. That's the thing. -_-

You wait little girl
On an empty stage
For fate to turn
the light on...

Your life little girl is a
empty page that
man will wann to write on...

Well, anyhow. I do not have nice time to write. Just minutes, actually it's not free time at all. But I'll pretend for a moment. Or two. Today it was about lyrics, but not the ones you meet in pop songs or something like that. It that kind of one you meet in books, like Shakespeare's, only harder to understand, and whit more not-sense in themselfe alone. Of course, I said my opinion, and people laughed, but in some good way, 'cause I was actually saying what they wanted to hear, but to close minded or scared. And I'm talking about poems here. Some time before I was kinda scared, because of my teacher to say my opinion. But now, I have grown older, and I have a different teacher I feel like it is my duty to say what I actually mean. My teacher always points out like how are my ways of seeing someting, let's say a poem, a novel, are always a bit different. *silent pause* And then she countinues after a second or so, whit "...but in a good way." And I'm like whatever.
I'm trying like some are, to be something they are not just to be noticed. I pushing it here, and I fell like I should stop. Yea. Full Stop.

Anyhow. I was going up to classroom and i just stoped for a minute, and decided to go for that chocolate I was waiting till I got to schooll. And I said so to my friend, and we went, but then I took a secom thought, and decied not to go whit the chocolate. And then a girl, who just heard what I said, said to hear friend something like "You know, I fell like I should get myself a chocolate." *silent pause* Us two jusr looked wach other and started laughing. Looks like I do influence people around me. Ah, who knows. One day, or maybe day afer one day...

Anyhow. Did you ever felt like you don't know in wich or who to belive in to? Should I pick
that god, or maybe the other he ofers just half of eternall life, but I get more of these on
Earth. Or sholud I... I have found my answer. Like everyone in my class did.

Tibor. Don't try to google it. And don't than God for Google.

Thank God for scinece. :D

Trenutačno

Nemam nekakve inspiracije, ali tek toliko da svijetu dam do znanja, da ne odustajem i da kanim
šitiri svoje misli i svoj utjecaj, where no one has influenced before. Možda ne putem muzike,
možda putem fotografije koja pak sadržava i više od 1000 riječi, a riječ je jača od mača. Iako za ove ne tako danvne limene izimšljotine sa metcima, nisam presigurna. Ali vidjet ćemo. Kapa glavu čuva. -_-