Malmo, Sweden - Day Six - Beautiful People

Agh, the first time I got to relax. I still did not sleep well I had to be up. Like Paul said, “No one is forcing you to be up” You are on vacation! I am on vacation, but it feels like a turbulent spill down a color filled rabbit hole. I am on vacation and shit can be worse. I am also in a beautiful country with beautiful people. Aight, it is 7am and I have to shower get to Lilla Kafferosteriet that’s a cafe. I don’t know what to expect, but that is my first order of business.

Thank you NINA!

My 2 mile pilgrimage to the coffee shop that was going to be the anchor for my next three days was underway. I was excited, but at the same time skeptical. A new world! A new place and it is colorful not as colorful as Copenhagen, but still lovely.

I made it to the coffee shop and I ordered the breakfast it comes with a beautiful scone, jam, sour cream, your choice of coffee/orange juice, and I decided to add oatmeal to all of that. I did not think it would be heavy, but it was I was not able to finish all of it. It is a nice cozy cafe at an intersection. I wondered why they had two floors it never got busy, but I heard it was bad on the weekends. I met a wonderful Swedish girl named Kleiza I think that is how you spell it. She kept me company while I was here and offered some cool places I could walk to. I felt like going to the beach for some reason. I wrote a lot while I was here I nearly filled up my notebook writing about the adventure and thinking about the days before this one.

It was time for me to go, but I would be back. My first stop was the Moderna Museet Malmo, they had an Andy Warhol installation. It was a small museum, but it was free. I was curious of Warhol’s work, but he does not fit my sensitivities. I picked up one the little Brillo boxes to remember Malmo.

Off of Kleiza’s recommendation I went to Shawarma King, I liked it a lot and it was relatively cheap compared to a lot of these other spots. It was also windy and I decided to hit the streets without a jacket. I did not eat the Falafel immediately I tried to wait until I got to Ribersborg Beach I made it to a small park on my walk their before I had to eat. I finally made it to the bridge pictured above and I greatly enjoyed it. Like I said, it was windy but I was by myself out there and it made for a soothing experience. I guess I pushed the limits of how lonely I could be while on this trip. After this I walked to the Malmo Konsthall, the spot was about the same size as the modern museum, but the installation Speed 2 (https://www.konsthall.malmo.se/en/utstallning/speed2/) was odd. It was ultra abstract and unconventional I still don’t know what to think about it.

I was walking around after visiting the Konsthall and had no plans. I walked by a movie theatre and I saw they were playing Blade Runner: The Final Cut in about 2 hours. I walked over to the Solde Kaffebar I had another latte, no more pastries and I wrote some more. At this point I can not tell you what it was that I was writing it about.

I went back to catch the film and I liked this version it seems that I have watched this film all the way through on three separate occasions and it is different every single fucking time. This version did not have any voiceover I think that is the version that should be watched? I don’t care much for Ridley Scott to check on that.

I took two rolls of film on this day. It was a nice day when I can forget about all things. At times I did feel sadness and a bit empty, but I just took a look around me and felt good. It is odd that I had to continuously remind myself that I am in a special place and should be grateful for where I am not just physically, but in my life. I should be at peace.

Malmo, Sweden - Day Five - Alleviate

There was beautiful moments the day before, but there was moments I would have hoped to get back. I would have wished to be brave. I pulled the blanket over me and kept my feet from sticking out off the couch. I swear I heard a ghost coming up the stairs the night before while we were watching Borat. I did not want that ghost tugging at my leg in the middle of the night. I felt something tug at the door, but their was nothing there. I couldn’t take a look outside, but I wondered if one could look into the room.

The house below is the Jurand home. That is incorrect since it is whatever Nic and Max’s mom’s last name is. It is a charming home at least a hundred years old, but it is a large property. I told Max I would architect the shit out of this property one day.

I fell asleep around 4am the night before watching game 7 of the Sixers NBA playoff series. Such devastation! We were a shot away from winning an NBA championship! Ooof it hurts a lot more now.

Max walked into the room, “We have to go foo” and we had to go. I complained about the night I had. Looking back now I feel like I was a pain to host. I feel like I acted annoying. A long night filled with Kick-Ass and The Dark Knight Rises which I made fun of as I went to sleep. In between being asleep and awake I was mocking the horrendous dialogue and flippant beats. That is it for the ol’ Hindaus.

I got my shit together and waited for Max outside the house. I was grateful to stay there, thank you for welcoming into your beautiful home. I would have liked to have hung out in the little room with the window maybe next time. Max hurries along and we walk through the fence and make our way along the train tracks. He offers to take my bag since I fall behind, I appreciate that. We make it out the other end.

There is a pretty girl by the bus stop as the sun begins to peak into this day. I snap a photograph of her.

On the bus back to Goteborg a lot of kids ride it to school into the city or wherever it is they travel for studies. There is a peace in these kids that I am sorry I never got to experience. “I watch them from the dock as they go to school”, Max had told me that the day before. They aren’t marred by the materialism and the happy go lucky schemes that are handed to the youth in the United States. Breaking their little souls in half for a chance at an American dream. This town reminds me a lot of what Chernobyl looked like in the HBO show before the nuclear meltdown.

We find ourselves in a breakfast spot that has a sort of all you can eat thing going on, but not really. Max decides not to partake in it, oh well. I am going to kill this food I ate a croissant, sandwich, boiled egg (expected scrambled eggs) and a lot of O.J. I have to try to make every dollar last. I still have a whole week in this country. I can not remember the name of this fucking place, but it was solid.

It was a walk to the station not a ridiculous walk, but I got to take some pictures of Goteborg during the day. As people rushed to and from their bliss to make ends meet.

I stay away from people trying to adjust to a new emotion. An emotion I had never felt and maybe their was inklings of it before. It had come and gone. I could control it, I always could, but now it was broken in half inside of me. I pulled the hoodie over my head and sat at my seat on the train. I never said a word. I tried to write, I tried to read, an attempt to make some sense of myself. Emotions are like the ocean smooth sailing until they have grown strained and angry by the hurricane that is self-awareness/revelation.

I try to use my phone to figure out how long this fucking walk is. I am gassed. I am tired. I am not who I want to be. I am indecision. I am not brave.

Should I wash clothes now? Should I hurry to a coffee shop? There is a couple shops that I have in mind. Tomorrow! That is a new day, that is another chance to make things make sense. I hurry along searching for a laundromat. Guess what! Malmo, Sweden does not have laundromats they have dry cleaners. Fuck this.

I get to the AirBnb a full two hours before I can check in. I am sleepy. I am hungry. Food. The constant on this trip, the savior and the only thing I can love on this trip without feeling guilt. The airbnb is in an Iranian community. I fuck with that. After the 2 mile walk from the station the last thing I need is another walk. I find a mediterranean restaurant, if there was the food inspector sign out front of this hoe it would probably be a B. Dude convinced me to get a chicken plate. I should have gone with the pizza they were advertising. The chicken had a tangy kick after every bite, but the fries worked. I was stuffed full of sodium.

Finally time to make this happen. I walked to a park next to the apartment building. There was a pair of people sitting on the bench next to it. They had a spirited conversation in Portuguese as I sat there and kicked away at the thoughts in my head.

Nina let me in around 5pm. She told me she would get the laundry room open for me in a few hours. Cool…time to fucking crash. I took a short nap. I woke up and Nina let me into an underground washer. It had a dope vibe. The whole apartment complex did. It was ultra colorful, they let the kids just roam around and the security was solid. I set my clothes in the washing machine and went for a walk. It was nearly 10pm at this time. I found a market bought a juice and Cinnabons.

Stockholm, Sweden - Day Three - A Conversation in the Dark

It was an odd day in general after I found a speck of blood in my piss. Toss it up to exhaustion? I also have this stomach infection. Am I dying? Really? On this fucking trip? Blood in your piss is difficult to ignore, but I try my best to look past it. Around it, through it, any direction but right at it. I don't want to stare at myself…am I few minutes from collapsing? It has been nearly a month and a half since this day and I have gone through a round of antibiotics for my stomach infection, but no more specks of blood were found.

I woke up after a nap to Gonzalco walking around the hostel room kind of like he was pacing, it was odd, we met in the darkness. Someone had closed the blinds all the way so to not let any light in. He spoke to me about the depression he was suffocating under. The pressures he felt after the passing of his father. An unexpected heart attack. I tried to sympathize and offer my guide to grieving, but to be honest I expected my dads death. It was 5 years of getting used to the idea that the man who raised me and loved me unconditionally was going to die. He would talk to me and let me know that it was a possibility of course it is not the same. Preparation only takes you as far when it happens. Well, it happens. You wake up on your birthday and the first text isn't the text from your father telling you he loves you and is wishing you a happy birthday. You  can't look in the crowd anymore and see him standing/sitting off by himself because he once had a strained relationship with your mother. I don’t have him around to tell him my wild stories and films I have written. He was only getting closer to my little sister damn it hurts so much even three years later. All I can say is the pain never goes away you just turn it into fuel. You can use the fuel to combust or to keep going. 

I got into the Generator Hostel around 1am the night before and I was up at 6am. No sleep, stomach infection, yeah, I am fucking up. I was only in Stockholm for a day so I had to see it all. My plan was to walk from the Generator Hostel to Drop Coffeehouse a 2 mile walk. It was Saturday Drop Coffeehouse opened at something ridiculous like 9am. I decided to say fuck that place and walk to Bagheri Petrus they opened at 7am I believe. I sat at a park by it where I took that picture above and I ate a chocolate croissant and this buttery bun I had an orange juice as well. It was nice.

Exhaustion was setting in, my head hurt and bread should not be the basis of a diet when you have a stomach infection. I don’t listen. From there I walked and I ended up at a coffeeshop, but I don’t remember the name of it. It was okay, I had a latte and the dude who ran it was a nice guy. He was from Australia and giving the coffee business a go. I remember he was pissed that his bread boys were running late. lol

He told me I could head to a vegan restaurant by the lake/beach? I was like that sounds expensive. He was like, yeah a little bit. Bro is running a coffeeshop as a hobby. I am not going to a vegan buffet. He was a great person and after that I just started on back down the street. I ended up at Söderbokhandeln Hansson & Bruce a sweet bookstore. I bought 2 small books I can’t remember what I purchased.

I asked the lady at the bookstore if she knew of any comic book stores she sent on my way to Staffars Series it was a 10 minute walk. I felt like I was going to collapse. The comic book store did not open when it was supposed to. I decided to venture next door to Cafe Fru Bellman I enjoyed the hospitality, but that was also where I found the speck of blood while taking a piss. I was out of it.

I incoherently sent an e-mail my doctor, but I also remembered it was Saturday morning in Stockholm, which meant it was Saturday MORNING in Los Angeles. I was trying my best to kick it and forget about it, but my mind was racing. I should just stay and die here if I am going to die. I don’t want to die in L.A. fuck that place! I got my bearings and purchased a Cinnabon this was my first one of the day.

A Conversation in the Dark

You left me with little to say

Shades of depression

I can hear the pain in your voice

To this darkness I grow comitted

I kept myself away from living

I don't want to hear this anymore

I was just asleep

Got a deal with my own issues

You left me with little to say

Is this your retaliation?

What can I do for salvation?

God he failed to hear us so far away

Take what makes you special

Take it and make you a path

For I don’t want o hear about you anymore

The picture above was on my walk to the first bakery from the hostel. I was now on a dreary existential walk back to the generator. Mad at myself for not watching my stomach mainly at the diet I decided to embark on when I was 21 years old that did nothing for me. I was frantically looking for chinese food to put my stomach at ease. I walked into a spot by a McDonald’s underneath an overpass, which I found to be a bit shady. I forgot that I am not in L.A., but a McDonald’s underneath an overpass in L.A. sounds like a bad idea. This Chinese food spot had some seats available, but dude just kept shaking his hands at me. I left and walked over to this burger spot called Vigarda Vasagatan the chicken sandwich was solid. I finished up and finally made it back to the hostel to sleep.

Now we are back to the middle of the day where I met Gonzalco and had an impromptu counseling session. I did not mind him opening up, but it was difficult to try and put someone else’s issues into perspective for them when I am dealing with my own. It did help me and I forgot about the speck of blood. If I die on this trip…I die on the trip. I can’t do much about it at the moment. I have to try my best to enjoy myself. I showered up and got ready to go on a mile walk to the center of Gamla Stan for a fucking ghost tour!

It was raining on the walk to Gamla Stan and I don’t quite remember much of it. That day is a blur of emotions when I try to look back on it. The guide was a tall english man in all black with a top hat. He exaggerated his accent, but he was a solid showman. He walked us around the tight corridors of Gamla Stan showed us where the executioners use to have their heads cut off. He took us to an apartment where they use to lock people and leave them to their miserable deaths during the black plague. We also had a chance to visit what was once the brothel of an obsessed man who was searching for treasure. It was fun, but I did not come away with as much as I had hoped for.

The last place on my list to visit while here in Stockholm was the Svenska Filminstitutet It was a 2 mile walk. I am trying to remember where I ate dinner fuck. I can’t remember now I actually don’t think I ate another meal. I kept eating Cinnabons. I embarked on the walk to the film institute and it was quite anti-climactic there was no screening going on. On my way back to the Generator I stopped by a 7/11 and they had a stack of pastries I picked up another Cinnabon that was the second one of the day.

I had kind of tossed up this day to hopefully be the worst one on the trip as I was walking back to the Hostel. I passed by what looked like a cafe and it was still open! I walked in around 10pm and there was a sweet Swedish girl behind the counter. I did not notice it at first, but it was City Backpackers Hostel she was super cool and convinced me to stay, have a coffee and another fucking Cinnabon. I sat there and we started talking I don’t remember what we talked about, but she tried to get me to switch my accommodations to this hostel. Sadly I was gone in the morning. I guess I could have stayed, but I had other plans for tomorrow. Plans that I did not have to go through with. Plans that made me anxious about who I was.

I said goodbye to her and her Canadian friend. I walked the couple blocks back to the hostel and I decided to stay in the recreation area for a few hours before going upstairs. That is when I saw Gonzalco he walked over and asked if he could sit with me I agreed and we talked some more about aspirations we have as human beings. How lost we are as people, but we only come to find out when we have been knocked off course by trauma. He was a sweet man, these dark bags around eyes and an unkept beard. The darkness radiated off of him for a second in the darkness earlier in the day I thought he was the devil. Ready to jump out at me.

My superstitions capitalized on this day. They took me hostage and would not let me go.

Copenhagen, Denmark - Day Two - The Only One Awake

The first thing I did was check my text messages turning my phone off of airplane mode. I did not want to receive notifications or any news about was going on. I checked the score and the Sixers had won game 6 woo! They live another day.

I hurried down these mean Copenhagen streets at 5:00am that means the sun is out that means according to my Tia Juanita, "The day is for work." I grabbed my camera unaware of whatever roll I had packed into it the night before, I scrambled trying not to wake the others in the room. Specifically the man in the top bunk from the South of Spain. It was chilly outside and I made the mistake of taking only a t-shirt the sun was out sort of and the wind was bearable. I walked aimlessly at first kind of just decided to head down the opposite street. Everything was closed. Even the 7/11 doesn’t open until 7am at least in Sweden. To be honest thinking back I don’t remember seeing them in Denmark point stands that nothing was open.

I snapped away.

The streets were long they were beautiful and I enjoy being the only one awake. A whole city asleep it was Friday morning some of these people had to be up for work shortly. I remember thinking of ideas, but none quite did it for me. I almost forgot to mention the discovery of the trip! Suspiria’s Score by Thom Yorke. I stumbled upon on it on the fucking plane! It was marvelous I don’t remember being taken by the music so much when I first saw the film. Unless the film does not keep my attention

The theme song of the trip: Unmade By Thom Yorke a close second would be Cold Little Heart more on that later. I think Unmade takes a life of it’s own on this trip for me. I made my first stop at Next Door Cafe as I was walking down the street toward the cafe. I saw a bakery and of course I had to go in after taking one peek at Scones. Chocolate Scones! The name of this place is fuck I can’t find it, but it is off of Oster Voldgade between the SMK museum and Next Door Cafe. They make the best Chocolate Scones in the whole fucking world they have cool worker named Daniel maybe that narrows it down. More to come on Daniel later.

I eat that Scone like I have never had one in the entirety of my life. If Spain was filled with Chocolate croissants this was filled with Chocolate scones. I finally made it to the Next Door Cafe and there was two people outside a white skinned dude and a beautiful girl. It wasn’t 8am so I wasn’t pressing them. “We are on a break we open at 8am” I nod my head understanding. I sit there for a moment before they snicker to themselves and hurry into the cafe. Borna says, “I can come in” I look up at the menu and without thinking twice I want the house special pancakes.

I took a seat at the table in front of the door and of course I forgot my fucking notebook. Borna looks over at me and we start talking. He is Croatian born, decided to move to Denmark following his girlfriend. When that ended he loved Copenhagen so much he decided to stay. Not only does he speak Croatian He also speaks Danish, Spanish, Italian and English. Europeans leave me fucking marveled they are willing and understanding for the most part. Eventually Emma brings out the pancakes. I devour those blueberry pancakes. At this point I have already received texts from my mom and cousin saying they are proud of Natives.

Emma eventually finds herself outside the kitchen where she tells me she is there living with her boyfriend (broken heart). She is from San Francisco a graphic design student if I remember correctly and makes some awesome pancakes. They were sweet people and gave me optimism for the rest of my time in Scandinavia.

Got my shit from the Generator thinking that I was to catch my train at 3pm no it was at 6pm.

I walked the 2 miles from the hostel to Funders a hip cafe off of Vester Voldgade. This was another nice place I can’t remember now if I had a bread I definitely had my second latte of the day. I continued reading Infamy I was going to finish this damn book!

When I realized it was 12pm and my train was not for another 6 hours I had to fucking move. Not only that but it started to drizzle, so is my luck! I walked another mile to John’s Hot Dog Deli it is next to Warpigs Brewhouse this place was fucking amazing! I am not doing my stomach any help eating all this, but that hot dog was worth it. The fries were kind of bad they had little pellets of salt peppered on to them. It was too much salt. At this point it is raining and I don’t want to get wet, but I also don’t want to spend 5 hours of my trip sitting in a deli.

I ended up at Le Kaff off of Halmtorvet they make a dope tuna sandwich. They were also a nice bunch of people and I spent a long while here rummaging through my head about what would happen the rest of this trip. Around 5pm I made my way to Copenhagen Central Station. It was not a long walk, but I was getting exhausted and good sleep was at least 9 hours away. I sat there waiting for my train to appear on the board. After a moment my train pops up and right by it in red letters, “cancelled.”

What the fuck do I do. Thankfully a man was walking by who had all the answers he was like, “you have to get to Malmo your train will be there waiting for you.” He pointed to a gate. I walked toward that gate. Downstairs on the platform I asked a lady if she was on her way to Stockholm. She said she was. I told her I am going to stick with you. After a moment a whole gang of us were headed to the same destination.

On the train to Malmo (30 minute ride) I sat next to a sweet girl. She had this cool nascar home depot jacket on and this long blonde curly hair. I admired her for a moment and asked where she was going off to. She mentioned she was headed too Stockholm to see her mother. She is living in a coastal town in Denmark going to school. She half Canadian and half Swedish. She hopes to live in Vietnam or Indonesia. I admired her willingness to just go wherever the fuck she wanted.

She asked me questions and those 30 minutes lasted an eternity. We talked about horror movies. She really liked Hereditary, Witch, and The Babadook (not a fan). She was not a fan of Halloween but she appreciated the film. We were both heavily anticipating The Lighthouse and Midsommar and she mentioned that she had never met someone like me who liked horror movies. All she had to say was, “stay” I am a romantic person, but I have a romantic idea of leaving my life behind all of it. Born again.

We split up and I didn’t even get her name. I sat on that 6hr + train ride thinking about her. What a fumble who knows if she would have liked me. I sat next to a Swedish girl who was not having it so we spent the ride like a married couple not one word was shared between us. I got into Stockholm late around 1am. Exactly what I was dreading. I don’t know how Stockholm gets after dark it might slowly transform into Compton or Gaza. I was okay it was well lit and there was a lot of party goers bouncing around the streets. Also what the fuck there was a McDonald’s under an overpass lol

Copenhagen, Denmark - Day One - I Don't Die Enough

“Preserve your memories they are all that’s left of you” - Bookends By Simon & Garfunkel

I have a difficult time with planes. I am just anxious leading up to the plane trip. Adjusting to the idea of making peace with my death. I am about to fly thousands of feet into the air and if anything goes wrong you are fucked.

Brandon was going to drop me off at the train station, but my mom got home a lot earlier than expected. She wanted to drop me off at Union Station and buy me breakfast, let’s get it. We went to Gus restaurant and I ordered the french toast. Stay away from their french toast It was dry and no amount of honey could wet that up.

On the Fly-A-Way bus to LAX I was thinking about my little sister a lot. Earlier in the day I dropped her off at school and I didn’t give her a kiss goodbye. I have been told she is not my responsibility, but she definitely is my responsibility. It would break me to pieces if she didn’t live up to her potential, because I was not around to guide her the best I could.

What type of a playlist should I put together for this trip? Rap heavy, ultra melancholic songs? rock? I had yet to start the playlist and was not going to yet. I had no idea what the vibe was and at the moment inspiration was non existent.

I guess airports don’t expect people to arrive early because gates aren’t shown until 3 hours before. It probably has some shit to do with security, but it makes for some anxiety when you are looking to post up. I sat at a dusty Starbucks reading Infamy a book about Japanese Internment during WWII. After a chapter I put the book away and started to watch The Turin Horse a movie loosely based on Nietzsche as he grows demented after staring at a horse that would not move. The film is slow and focuses on the life of a potato farmer and his daughter. The shots are beautiful and the scenes are moving even though they are black & white and don’t offer much in the way of dialogue. My favorite scenes were when they would take turns sitting at the window their only form of entertainment/peace. I did not fuck with the post apocalyptic aspect we could have done without it.

An LAPD cop was waiting by the gate he waved me over to check my bag. I was told by the cop it was a random check. Fuck you!

On the dumb ass plane for 10+ hours I saw three films Gentlemen Prefer Blondes I thought it was funny, Marilyn Monroe was great especially her comedic timing. The Lion King I hope the remake tanks why the fuck are they touching that film! They should take that all-star cast and make a new movie. A Private War, wow I thought Rosumund Pike was great the actors got more comfortable as the film progressed. It grew melodramatic at time, but the topics were difficult and I believe they did the best they could with that subject. I thought the flashbacks were weak and were not needed to accomplish what Pike’s character was already doing via action (irresponsible drinking, spontaneous sex, and her plunges into danger). I thought she was in search of martyrdom.

Mocha in London! Starbucks can get fucked, but it is convenient and aight. I had a Mocha and stale Strawberry Pop-Tarts I had time before my plane. WHERE IS MY GATE!?

I met this beautiful Danish girl. I have forgotten her name she was traveling home from Fiji. She was exhausted after being away for 6 months and was happy to be home. I wanted to ask her if she would guide me around Copenhagen, but I never said it. I kept quiet and she asked how long I would be staying in Denmark. I said one day and then I was off to Sweden. We sat next to each other on the tram to the plane. On the plane to Denmark I met a group of friends traveling to a beer fest in Denmark. The dude sitting next to me I forgot his name as well invited me to have a beer with them while in Copenhagen. I politely declined his offer, but I never said that I didn't drink. I thought that would have bummed them out and they were excited to drink some Danish beer.

I stayed at Generator Hostel in Copenhagen in Kobenhavn K. All I wanted to do was sleep in a proper bed, but before I wanted to walk, eat and watch Detective Pikachu. I set my route to Palads Teatret and took the Leica (Point and Shoot) along with a roll of color film (Kodak Ektar 100?). The pictures you see here came from that set-up. The black and white film is from a Kodak 400tx roll or a Kodak 100 black and white.

Still

With whatever moments I had

They never let me be better

Wrote a letter hoping an older me would get it

That wasn’t the case

I’m still in my way

Everything I’ve done it’s a wrong done on me

We’ve stared at the cross for a bit too long

How else would we carry you around?

We came together for a laugh

Still I kept it close to my chest

Still I came out of breath

It’s okay to not be who you want to be

I walked down these tight streets, they weren’t as tight as they were in Barcelona. It got packed with people along those dense corridors. I was leaving nothing exciting behind at the Hostel. It was a pair of siblings from Sweden who were just going to go until their money ran out. (They said that would be only about 2 weeks) The girl was cute, but they never offered to have me tag along so Detective Pikachu it is. I was searching for a spot to eat at. I found a restaurant called Greasy Spoon or something like that I ate a burger covered in mushroom sauce. DON’T TRY IT! I was begging for the shits.

Palads Teatret looks like Circus Circus a nasty pink building about a 2 minute walk from Tivoli Gardens. I went inside Palads and bought a ticket to Detective Pikachu. At a supermarket I picked up some dark chocolate and I finished up the color roll of film. Did I start a new one? I don’t think I did, but I might have. (I DID!)

Detective Pikachu was a bore I fell asleep the first 20 minutes and the only great aspect about that whole mess was Ryan Reynolds as Pikachu and the world they built. The real actors were bad and they just had a difficult time not being unnecessary.

I walked back at about 11pm hoping not to be robbed, but these aren’t the streets that I grew up in. I was thinking about the Sixers they were going into Game 6 should I stay awake? Natives was premiering tonight at USC and I had an anxiety about that project trailing back over a whole year following me around mocking me for not having the confidence to immediately tackle it myself. What would my mom say if my name wasn’t in the title cards at the end? What would I do about it? Nic reassured me multiple times that Ramone would come through, but I was dealing with my own insecurities. I was on vacation and I would enjoy it no matter. When I got to the hostel I turned my phone off and fell asleep.