Crushing the tops of mountains with my hands

Yesterday I lifted my frozen hands into the air to hail the coming of a new season.   My eyes have turned a lighter shade of blue, my hair white.   

The monolith erected as a symbol to breathe life into dead seas 

My ears tune out the constant drone of the wind.  My heart warms and my joints are no longer filled with shards of glass.   As the earth shifts its axis toward my pale face, I manage a smile through cracked lips and a wind burned face. 

An amalgam of spend ideals

It has come to this.  Being excited about weekly dinner parties with fellow graduate students.  Luckily none of us cook exceptionally well, or have enough money to afford expensive wine.  So at least we avoid a certain level of pretention.

Red Bull and squash soup

Can't resist the damn pink glasses

Classes are quickly coming to a close, which (again) proves how fast time moves.  Not to get nostalgic, but I am incredibly impressed at how quickly I forget about things that were once very important.  Although I tend to deny the general statement of "You've changed man...", I am sure I have.  To what extent is questionable.  Regardless, I have never been so uncertain about life after Sverige has I have this week.  Suddenly returning home to continue life-as-usual no longer appeals to me.  

Let not bitter fruit sour your breath, you were once a gentle man.

Sometimes I feel like I only post when I am feeling sad/angry/melancholy, etc...  Maybe it is true to a certain extent, but today I am feeling good.  Epic sun in the morning with rock and roll in my head, and feet on my pedals. The only thing keeping me from breaking the sound barrier was the fire in my lungs and the acid in my legs.  It can't rain all the time. 

Here are some pretty pictures

Beach and harbor

I am psyched for "Spring Break - Arctic Circle" next week.  

Frozen Beach and bridge in the distance

Broken limbs are all I have to hold me now.

If you ever get a chance to experience the legendary slavic hospitality, I suggest you take advantage of it.  Just kidding - I find the Polish to be incredibly rude.  But not just to me.  They are rude to each other and it is perfectly acceptable.  Cultural difference.

Gdansk (Danzig) has never been accused of being the most beautiful city in Europe.  Probably due to the fact that most of the city was destroyed in WWII and subsequently rebuilt.  But it is nice to see a city where people actually live.  We (North Americans) often joke about the random trips we take.  No European would be interested in flying to Gdansk for a weekend.  It would be similar to asking an American if he wants to go check out Cleveland.  Why would you?  You wouldn't.

The flag is not waving in the breeze.  It is frozen.  

 Gdynia, along with Sopot makes up the tri-city area, which has a surprisingly large population for being relatively obscure to most western tourists.  But, like almost every city I've ever been to (ever), it appears to be nicer in the summer.
We decided to absorb some history by physically witnessing where the first shots of World War II were fired.  After we suffered through a cabbage sandwich for lunch, we attempted to give our toes frost bite by standing in freezing weather and waiting for a bus that never came.  Not all that surprising.  Meh, it is Poland.

One highlight was noticing that the Swedish embassy was located next to the "straight friendly" gay bar.  Lagom Sweden, lagom.
Also, I am almost positive that we were the only people in our hostel.  Not so much creepy as hilarious.  Although, I could have gone without the blanket that smelled like someone else's body oder.  Give and take when staying at a place for less than $15 per night.

The pinnacle of musical elitism

Hello, my name is Globalization.  You killed my father.  Prepare to die.  

     Highlights of the trip:

• The food.  Cheap and plentiful.  Good bortch.  Avoid the kind with horse jizz.  Varsabad. 
• The amber/art/prussian history/torture museum.  Confusing yet interesting.
• Our Knights of the Round Table lamp and palm tree sunset toilet seat in the hostel.  
• Realizing Poland still has an extensive selection of cassette tapes.
• Creating numerous inside jokes: ex. Rape Tunnel, Polish Condom, Bone Zone. Etc...
• Sitting down one evening and systematically deconstructing every situation in the past six months where I said the wrong thing, made an awkward gesture, or entirely fucked up a chance encounter with a cute girl. 
• Booyakasha 

Days of Protest

This weekend we did our civic duty.  No my friends, I will not leave you alone with the Danes.

Scandinavian Parkour 

I've noticed a unique occurrence when we come to Denmark from Sweden.  We tend to act like fools.  Maybe it isn't that unique

The sunshine is welcome  

Despite the cold weather, my joints ache a little less in Copenhagen.  

This world still spins regardless of your decisions

I get attached to frivolous things like t-shirts.  Band shirts in particular.  Recently I was forced to make the hard decision on which ones I would retire.  It is usually an easy, logical decision.  Too many holes from my belt, no longer fits well, tears in the armpits, etc... There was one shirt in particular that didn't have any obvious flaws.  Fit alright, no holes, logo of a really obscure band that doesn't exist anymore.  It was basically perfect.  But I let it go. It wasn't mine anymore.  I think about it from time to time, and hope that it is well taken care of.       

Black Hearts Reign

Hot Mess

Again, the metal show in Sweden was great.  And, miraculously, I managed to convince several people to join me.  The free entry sweetened the deal, but I was impressed with the turnout.  As I get older, I have consistently brought less and less mosh to the dance floor but last night I took it upon myself to turn it around.  Within 30 seconds of Kvelertak's first song I was crowd surfing - attempting to high-five the singer and mouthing along to Norwegian party metal.  A gentleman's evening.