A: do you want to know who your real friends are?
B: well, I doubt I have any!
A: yes, you may not have many, but still there is no harm in knowing.
B: how can you stop a person from saying what he has made up his mind to say?
A: that is the thing, you can’t!
B: spit it out then!
A: heh! If you want to know who your real friends are, get yourself in trouble.
B: what?
A: you heard me! Trouble and that also Loads of it. Then look around yourself and you will know what I mean.
B: oh! Sorry to disappoint you, but I have been in that situation many times in my life.
A: so did you see them? Your friends!
B: I guess so!
A: see! It works!
B did not want to kill Mr. A’s buzz, but every single time he had found himself in a sorry situation, the only other thing accompanying him had been his own shadow and that also very reluctantly.
I think his theory is right, after all. Who can be my best friend except myself? From deep within him a voice said, “You know I am your friend, a many times better friend than you can be by yourself”. Frightened, he asked, “Who are you?
The voice replied: you know.
And he knew. He believed. He had faith.



There were a lot of doors. It was a corridor full of doors. Each door had two different stories, combined together. Sometimes a story behind one door would go and meet a different story behind another door, touching it for a second but never completely mingling with it. Each story must return to its own door. Without the door, the story is incomplete.
Some days I was curious to find the stories of every door and at other times I was indifferent to the story that belonged to my own door