In October last year, I went up to Luleå, Sweden. That’s the town where I grew up and I went there to work on a wholesale order of Wrist Worms and hang out with my family. On the first morning, it was snowing. The first and only snow I’ve seen so far this winter.
It has a lovely melancholy to it, when there is still a bit of green and autumn colours mixed with the snow.
My sister, second dad Thomas and Elvis, my baby brother. Great news: A while ago I booked tickets to go visit again. Elvis will be 12 this year and I’m going to spend so much time with him, giving him massage and cuddle. We’re going to eat crisp bread with smoked roe spread together and take naps, holding each other’s paws.
We will probably walk in this forest.
And roll in the snow together. Can’t wait. I don’t think my relatives read my blog, but if they do: Sorry, I love you, but I need to take it very easy this time.
This picture sums up why I wanted to leave this place at a very early age. It was never this bad for me, breaking a dock on the lunch break just to have something to do, but it describes the passivity and the lack of creativity in general. In the end I don’t think it matters where you are as a teenager, it’s pretty much shit for most of us, right?