The death of my desire

After last night's pathetic display of humanity, I had difficulty falling asleep.  Laying awake contemplating this and that, I eventually found solace in my overly soft mattress.  Someone unexpected commented that I have "a good soul".  There is no such thing as souls.

Eventually the early morning light flooded my room through broken shades and forced me to open my eyes.  The promise I made myself the night before of a 7am jog seemed a thousand miles away.  I settled for a cup of tea and a bowl of oatmeal instead.

 I've managed to keep this plant alive during very dark and cold days.  It is starting to look happy after several months of misery.  It will be an incredibly sad day when I leave it in the care of someone else.  He will be missed.

4 walls surround my bleeding heart.

Hello daylight.  I have missed you.  Lets never fight again.

First breath after a coma

I clean up alright. 

The chance to "meet" a chinese delegation at a Swedish design and urban development forum was quite an opportunity.  Although language was definitely an issue, it was interesting to be in the same room.

I realize that I don't talk about my master's program, mostly because I think it would be a boring subject for anyone who doesn't study it.  But sustainability is very much in fashion.  So much so, it brings people together who do not have anything in common.  I could have hours of dull discussion on current trends, discourse, and theory - but I realize that first and foremost, sustainability is a business.  Hopefully a lucrative one.

I cannot be who I want when they know me as who I am.

This morning the static in my head kept me from sleeping late.  My eyes still hazy and my heart pumping blood faster than I care to imagine - I put my feet to my pedals.  Attempting to alleviate the the urge to think I turned my lungs inside out.  Recklessly.

 Exhausted and defeated, I turn my head to the west and race my shadow home.

Occasionally I am resentful of the people who are graced with eloquence and certainty.  But life costs, takes effort and work.  I try to remember that.   

Juan enjoys the little things

Sincere people

If concrete holds me below

Finding a consistant sleep pattern lately has become my everest.  Last night I lay awake squinting at the cracks in my ceiling and contemplating the human condition.  The window above my bed reflects light from the adjacent courtyard into my room.  Sometimes it bothers me.  I can't remember the last time I've seen a full moon.

Decay and return

What do you do when love gets you nowhere, it gets you nothing?

After arriving home from the gym and peeling off the layers of sweaty clothing, I unzipped my messenger bag and inspected the random things that I carry with me on a daily basis.  I realized that I get very attached to meaningless shit.  Here is a short list of things that I cherish and would kill for.
1.) Chrome Messenger Bag: These bags have thoroughly saturated the cycling market much like a drunk frat boy saturates his floor mattress with his own piss.  Malmö hipsters seem to have resisted the temptation lay down serious SEK for these cycle accessories which are still made in the USA.  It has taken me a few years to finally break it in.  Fits perfect.
2.) Track Pants:  When I was eighteen I moved away to college and started to seriously lift weights with my room mate, Manpower.  After a few embarrassing gym sessions in a pair of skimpy running shorts I decided to invest in a cheap pair of track pants.  I have probably worn them 300 days a year for over 8 years.  I have no intention of retiring them anytime soon.
3.) Misfits Hat:  This hat was given to me as birthday present from my brother.  This hat is fucking awesome.  If you don't agree, go set yourself on fire.  Last week I wrecked my bike incredibly hard (if my parents are reading this, I happened to land on a pile of extremely well placed fluffy pillows).  I managed to avoid any broken bones, but while I was sliding along the pavement on my belly like a penguin, my hat flew off.  It took me several minutes to find it in the dark.  The whole time my mind was swimming with thoughts of was how shitty my life would be if I lost it.  Seriously, I would be more upset if I lost that damn hat than if my grandmother died (we were never very close).
4.) Random note written by a friend:  Makes me smile on occasion.

The things we carry.

We sing until we black out and rain on your parade.

Brace yourself for a quick end to this series of convoluted blog posts that I should have condensed into one nice little package.

Big city lights

The 4 hour bus ride from Narvik to Tromsø was amazingly beautiful.  The fjords and water and mountains were a sight that I doubt I will see again anytime soon.  The bus started to fill up mid way though the journey and eventually a young Afghan kid sat next to me.  We struck up a conversation and he asked me why I was in the Arctic.  I said for a vacation.  I asked him the same question and he responded with a simple answer.  Asylum.  The type of response that makes you cringe a little on the inside.  When asked if he ever planned on returning to Afghanistan he replied, "never.... never."

crane and water

By the time we reached Tromsø we were a little burnt from the travels.  The city was bigger than any we had been to yet and the wind blew harder than it normally does in Skåne.
Unbelievably, none of us fell on our ass (the whole trip) despite the slick roads and sidewalks coupled with the lack of proper footwear.
After we checked into the hostel and a quick discussion on what was for dinner, we decided to drop about $20 on a kebab.  Norway is expensive.

Spring break outtakes

The gondola ride to the top of the mountain that overlooks the city seemed like a better idea from down below.  By the time we reached the top it was total blizzard conditions with basically zero visibility.  Not the best 80 krowns I've ever spent.
On the bright side I got to warm my trench-foot by the fire for about 20 minutes before we gave up and headed back down the mountain.

Death proof bridge

The bridge the connects the island with the mainland is longer than you expect, extremely windy and was covered in slush.  Also, the city has taken all the necessary precautions to make committing suicide quite the chore.
After painful decisions on how to spend our last hard earned Kronor, we were ready to catch the plane back to Copenhagen.
On the way to the airport I noticed one interesting thing about Tromsø.  There is an entire network of underground traffic tunnels and connect the city.  The city has made crossing the island very simple with a tunnel network that includes traffic lights, round-abouts and nice lighting.  Although I assume the road had to be resurfaced every year because of the cars and busses that drive around with chains despite the dry roads.  But Norway has oil money and people need jobs.  It probably works itself out.

Fin