two times american
hitching rides from the nicest vietnam veteran to the Buss driver with no sense of direction but a golden heart, I miss them all in America.
I reaally liked being understood in americahaha. but the french!? oh shit no. great fucking bands though and great bars/pubs/clubs? whatever that was. old train-station-rebuilt-club-thing, even had rails under it! you had a fat burger and outlooking a huge golden painting spotlighted next to the rails that led on into a pitchblack place. five bands on a row every day but monday haha.
walked and shouted theatre all way across Paris until five in the morning. improvising fun things on whiskey legs with company. pff, it was nothing like almost dying in the mountain with cougars. but I've learnt to be sorta fine with that.
and here? no sun.
a doctor told me 6 out of 10 swedish are on anti depressants, two minutes later in another room another doctor leaned in and corrected with a "8 out of 10" HAHAH. and that was during the summer!
I THINK people should start realizing there's something else biting their heels.
pills won't save your soul or start fires or get your nonexistent love for a deskfuck job back that you never had. I know I know, mean right. I've been told. well it's either that or Oppie Yoopie poetry