dancing behind my eyelids

remember deadjournal days? damn. teen angst is a terrible, no good, very bad time. i just very recently rid myself on the remaining bit i think. now its manifested itself in a more general, sometimes omnipresent form of bitterness, which one will only encounter if you give me a decent reason to bring it out. some things make me bitter, but more things make me jovial, sometimes!

i think i remembered that journal again because of how i stalked shannon and pined for her almightiness from afar, the days when nathan kris and i would stand in the hall at highschool and nathan would make direct his typical woman-hating remarks towards shancat, and she would just cringe, shake her head, flip him the bird from behind her head, and push her fetal self onwards. my LOVE. i thought, damn, that bitch is cool.

i also remember how i had to resurrect deadjournaling elsewhere after certain stalkers came about, and how it didn´t much survive again until, well now.

last time i was on here, i was VERY bitter. i mean, very bitter. i think i actually spent a good week in the mind and body of a 150 year old woman. becoming so sick in a foreign country is likely my least favorite thing ever. unwillingly bedridden and isolated in a box-like room in an all too quiet and somewhat far end of town, you wonder only between bouts of consciousness: where is my TLC??!?! maw? walo? wtf. i need a SPOOOON.

im better now, thanks.

my life has been rather simple as of late. work paid me the 65% of my wages that they can give me, (sigh sigh sigh), and i moved out of álfhiemer, and i must say, that was THEE most expensive place to live to date, and the quietest. moving was nothing short of fabulous though, easily the quickest move in history. throw some shit in your backpack, sweep up the floor, and book it into town. now, if only moving to mtl would be so pleasant? lesson? rid yourself of all material belongings? no. but... it is rather liberating. although, having a stable living space (purple castle) to settle into will also be very nice.

ko-leen and davið have loved me to the ends of the earth, as they kindly let me sleep here, eat here, and basically help me thrive while in a country of occasional horrors. the world is filled with good people, you just have to find them.

ireland in roughly two-weeks-ish, which is tremendously grand. i spent so much time focusing on making it with iceland that i forgot how great it would be to see ireland, as well as how feasible it is from ísland. i overheard some women today talking in the blue lagoon store, and i just started smillllingg when i heard their accents. CLEARLY northern ireland. they asked me what the hell i was doing, (! ...... i smile really loud..) and i told them im going to to where they´re from very soon, and well, your accents make my life about 200% better. so,
they loved me. they were rather shocked i was traveling alone, .. (here i think about my grandpa loathing me going to this country and the IRA) but wished me the very best and promised me that i would love dublin. well, ...der?

grizzly bear is such ridiculously ridiculous music. this Colorado song sends me right out to lunch.

trying to figure out how to get my ass more mobile the remainder of time im here.
also, must write 10 pages on hydroelectricity, dams, and why iceland´s future sustainability lies in fully harnessing its natural resources. and because, hallador laxness would back me on this one i feel. independent people!

INDEPENDENT PEOPLE!

oh. et ...


electrical storm in your veins


okay, so, its kinda hard to see. i take alot of pictures of the sky?
these dwelling days are spent. halloween still reigns supreme.

in the north, there are lights to catch. note the moon, the sneaky bastard.
Halloweenis - the makeshift inside view, thanks paw .
all-too early AM run home.
AN - the dodgy Belgian.

first quasi-real snowfall in reykjavík this year? regardless, we´re quickly frolicking.

can´t keep my eyes from the circling skies68 álfheimer


The sleepless wind
Has heard all things
Between the sea and sky
In the canyons of the city
You can hear the buildings cry