get out of town

this morning (or late this afternoon) i woke up in selfoss (magic!) which, in some respects, may be some variant of a smiths falls apparently, in terms of its small, bedroom town, but much easier on the eyes. either way, its country side, and accordingly there are waterfalls, mossy-ness and hot springs to be seeked out. however, here is a place that proves that the line between isolation and a vast sense of freedom can be very slim.

long story short, i wanted to get my naked ass in a hot spring. however, with rather an extremely late start to the day, we didnt venture out much into the hike (please note, entirely unprepared), until quite late in the day. and it was wet. wet wet wet.. but a fucking beaut nonetheless. inline with feeling a pinch of missing home, and cooperating with the icelandic mentality of excess, i had some swigs out of the tequila bottle before we set off (strickly for keeping warm purposes, of course) and went on my jolly way. everything was smooth until we were quite far into the mountains, and i was beginning to feel like i was slowly going a little bit bizonkers. this can be easily justified with the thinning out of air slash high altitude, and overall vastness which kind of penetrates your soul. and it should in no way be associated with the tequila. with this kind of isolation comes insanity you know. so, basically, i lost my head in the mountains today, but i got some great pictures. i also got pretty effing wet and threw something in my side out (yes i am 82), which can be attributed to my running long jumps through wet grass over large streams to get back to civilization. this is the stuff that makes one both very free and very crazy.

also, saw Import Export last night, and it was as raw as i had both expected and hoped, and then some, and then some more. there is nothing to hide in this world, and Seidl will prove it.
i also found myself leveling with the Ukranian protaganist somewhat. minus the cam-whoring, maybe.

irish coffee and sleep.