Stray thoughts

Something is wrong.

After all my fretting and complaining, it was all over too quickly.

It was too easy.

I can’t shake the feeling that I have missed something of dire importance. That my ignorance will have disastrous effects when I am past the point of no return.

I have finished packing.

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I very rarely get nervous, or travel fever. I get restless. Like a dog who’s spent the whole day inside. I need to be occupied constantly.

Last night I had nothing to do. Everyone were going to sleep instead of entertaining me like they were supposed to.

I had to do something.

I put on my sisters old boxing gloves an re-enacted the whole Rocky series with my sisters playing the bad-guy roles.

They say I have a diagnosis that my parents never told me about.

Some kind of abbreviation in capital letters.

I’m just restless.

Quickie

Just passing by. Busy day.

I cashed a check for the first time. I experienced that people at the post-office do not like it when you try to send a package that is pre-paid for one of their competing distributors. They might even get hostile and question your intellect with insulting remarks.

Now I’m off to Stockholm for some soccer with my old team (BK Sveket), a night out with friends and family and a lunch-date tomorrow with my grandmother.

Pack-math

That’s it for tonight. No more packing for me. It was tough at first, having to discard clothes that place too low on the frequent-usage scale.

Current matchweight -  27kg.

Official limit – 20kg.

I still have some stuff being laundered and I haven’t yet picked out what to wear on the plane. Is it possible to wear 2 pairs of shoes? I’ve heard that Thai Air are pretty generous and usually let it slide if it’s below 25kg. I’ll sleep on it, then decide what needs to be cut and try to land at around 24kg.

If they do want me to pay for the excess weight (those usurious bastards charge 398SEK/kg) I’ll have a bag-in-bag that I can just pull out and hand to my parents. Shazaam! 20kg.

Now that’s how you let the beat build, bitch.

19.54

Sorting. Choosing. Discarding. Packing.

We hates it.

The boys were back in town

So. It is over and done with.

Saying goodbye to your best friends is supposed to suck, right? It does feel very melancholic but at the same time I know that we’ll never get out of touch with each other and it was bound to happen sooner or later. Everybody can’t stay in one place for the rest of our lives, nor would we want to. We all have things we want to do and it is time to go do ‘em.

Time to shine.

My camera is back from the dead and I am pleased to present you with some pictures from this weekend. Those were the days.

Farewell-party at Rasmus’s place. The distinguished old man on the left, Ulf (Wolf), was tearing it up.

“Hi! Another drunkard, I see. Finally I have someone to hang with.”

Some of the boys being happy. I’d like to think that it is because they were blessed with my presence for a last time, but most likely Ulf just said something funny.

The weekend was rough. It wasn’t until Monday that we were able to function as normal human beings and play a couple of rounds of Trivial Pursuit. These two won it all. Urrythang. Fabian (the guy bustin’ a cap in Mattias’s ass) won the solo round and then they teamed up to win the extremely close team round.

This is how happy you get if you accomplish the astronomically unlikely feat of beating me at Trivial Pursuit. He’ll probably blog about it for years to come.

My favourite wanna-be Jew, Eric, on the left. To the right is my partner in crime Rasmus “Sledge” Hammar, who will join me on the Australian adventure. Something I surely won’t miss. Walking around in the cold that is. I don’t have a jacket the size of Rasmus’s. I don’t think anyone has.

That was it.

See ya’ll in a year or so.

Fail

I failed to deliver and for that I am truly sorry. Monster-postage has been postponed until tuesday afternoon. Ish.

Back in the groove

It’s funny. Every time I go back to my old home town it is like not a day has gone by. Nothing has changed and the same people are still sitting at the café. Guess I’m not the only one to have this experience, but it’s a bit peculiar none the less. Since I’m so busy hanging out with my old friends for the last time, i shan’t be blogging much. Look out for a monster post about something very worthwile, sometime on monday.

Edit/ It’s bad enough that I left a typo in there, “not a day has gone bay”. It’s even worse that noone corrected me on it. Shame on you.

A pinch of nostalgia

For the first time I actually feel like I am leaving Sweden, or Stockholm in particular. I had only lived there for about a year and was really beginning to feel like I truly belonged. Even with the amazingly shitty weather, it was very nostalgic seeing the city rush by outside the train-window for the last time in a long while. Technically, I will be in Stockholm probably a couple of times before I actually get on the plane, but it is obviously not the same.

I can’t really point out what it is I like so much about Stockholm. It just feels natural. It doesn’t matter if it’s winter-time and I’m rushing through a dirty, disgruntled, densely packed subway. It’s still the one place in Sweden were I like it the best. I don’t think I’ll ever want to live in another place in Sweden. Although, I do see myself as an old man, sitting on the porch of a picturesque country house on a mustache kind of morning. Smoking my pipe, being who I am. Anyhow, I guess Stockholm will still be there when (if?) I move back to Sweden.

Another train ride tomorrow. Uno mas. That’s the only thing I’ve been doing recently – travel. And not travel in a exciting, see-the-world kind of way. More in a unavoidable transport kind of way. It’s for a good cause though. I get to spend one last weekend in Arvika with (most of) my oldest and dearest friends.

Full speed ahead.

On the Road Again

Who knew that when Canned Heat made the song On the Road Again, they were talking about me? Well, at least the part about being on the road again. I’m not crying, my mom didn’t leave me when I was young, I do have a payroll and someplace to go. But I’m on the road again and that’s what matters.

I just settled down in the couch after yet another day of driving my belongings from one place to another. In the last year or so I have lived in five different places, with Perth soon to be added to the list.

Dinners ready and I haven’t lifted a finger. Spectacular.

An Allright Beginning

An Allright beginning, or Ágætis Byrjun in Icelandic. The title of a song to which I fall asleep almost every night. I do not understand a word, yet somehow it feels like I understand everything I need. The androgynous, angelic voice of Jón Þór Birgisson relates to me, maybe even more than it would if I knew what he was singing. It might be that the actual lyrics of a song are so central that sometimes they cancel out some of the other dimensions in the music. With Sigur Rós, I think the vocals add so much more to my experience when I only hear the meaning of the sound, not the meaning of the words. Subtle nuances of the singers voice, the inimitable sound of an electric guitar played with a cello bow – it all becomes crystal clear.

If God was in a band, it would be Sigur Rós.