It takes an ocean not to break

So I forgot the shape of my plan, listened to Frida Hyvönen, pulled myself into my project, stressed out, walked windy streets, made inquiries, felt I was loosing grip, the hours were racing. My heart tried to slow it down, I tried to breath slower. I stared at questions. The days were numbered, and where the numbers came from I don’t know. All I knew is that there were wrong. So I worked, and I got a call. Just the call I needed. Sometimes things just work out just when you need it.’ I’ve had the same feeling’ my Spanish friend told me when we cruised the dark highway between Malaga and Granada this past Monday. The work and plan fell into place cause they had to, cause there was no more time. I went to Göteborg, worked some more, had some brunch in my friends funky apartment. Saw Wu-Tang Clan do a tired set while talking about weed and women. They had humor, I smoked cigarettes, let the work drift off me.

Saw The National, and Matt Berninger was drinking enormous amounts of white wine just as he did when I saw them for the first time five years ago among a hungover and tiny Zürich crowd. He sang ‘It takes an ocean not to break’ and I didn’t want to hear anything else that night after the show. A few hour later I stood dancing in front of LCD Soundsystem, there is no plan that cannot change. Then M.I.A. rolled in the the beautiful forest with her gunshots and completely crazy live show (see picture above).

It was a few days after I almost broke down, when I questioned my own legs and my mind was sitting next to me, shaking its head. Now I shook my head to some of my favorite music. Life is about the small moments, the pockets of utter happiness. I walked into the world and as I sit in an apartment in Granada, with the 40 degree heat outside listening to Stone Roses while drinking cheap beer I am no longer looking for a plan, just a pocket of something to fill the freedom with.


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