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.
