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.