Landing
A week of moaning, crying, wondering and wandering only to arrive here. In my old bed in my childhood’s room with a cup of tea on one side and a slice of mud cake on the other. My mother just came in and asked if I wanted something else.
I am such a spoiled kid.
I have been writing depressing posts that I (luckily) have not published.
Instead I took a long walk to the ocean. It was frozen still except for a small crack in the ice where the water was performing a celebration dance in the sun. I sat a watched for a while on a bench.
The same bench where my mother sits on a black and white photograph. I lay in the pram next to her. This is also the beach, where I awkwardly walked covered up in clothes, the path to the kiosk, secretly admiring the other 13-year old girls playing volleyball in bikini. Around the corner is the parking lot, where I seven years later, failed my first driving test.
But now. I just look at the water and the sun and my mind is completely blank.
Time is so twisted sometimes.
I have been feeling empty, but slowly my cup is filling up again.
I realize that this is the greatest test.
All my writing, my gratitude, my philosophy is tested here. In my home town.
With old accustomed ideas and comfortable behaviours. All my talk about seeing the positive side of things, well, it may not be as clear and radiating as a fresh summer’s day in Cape Town, but beauty is constant. It’s just a matter of reflections and I need to be affirmative.
Yesterday one of my best childhood buddies called me up and said he was going to a party in a huge red wooden house in the county and invited me to come. He said there would be some interesting people there which sounded like something I needed. And true, by the end of the night we were all sitting and talking about otherworldly experiences, other dimensions and karma.
And I saw the first pristine starry sky in the Northern hemisphere in more than a year.
That I later ended up on the so called “sky bar” on Möljen and paid a stupid amount of money for a Mojito in which the bartender forgot to put sugar, that the place closed ten minutes later and I did a walk in on Stadshotellet, ran into my brother who gave me the worst rum drink I’ve had in my life and that him, his boss and me were shaking our asses on the empty dance floor to songs from 2002 before I, in the freezing night, hailed a car and asked the driver to take me home for whatever I had left in my pocket, are just matters that come with this package.
Of being home. In “Glada Hudik”.
aah, sweetie!
i totally hear you when you´re saying the biggest test is coming back home and trying to stay in the state of mind we have been in here i CT.
Jeez… i will be in the exact same position in a matter of weeks now. Hometown, old girlie room, memories of a distant past etc. etc. But i´m pretty sure we´ll get through it – as you say – beauty is constant!!
miss you around here, the air is getting chillier and the sun sets early these days..
xx.
Sweet words, and the nest of childhood rest holds well. Though personally the place of childhood dreams if the last place I would long to be, the nightmare there still abounds and ripps through the dead of night.
Each day now falls as a thread to the new, the breath of the past upon our necks paves way to the freshness of the new unknown waters we must travel. Waves we ride high upon then fall low, the great circus we somehow call life.
You write well, your words echo a chill, but are washed with the warmth of hope and an acceptance of what is to be.
Haveing just found your page, this is a place I will return to read some more.
Hej Helen!
Så du är hemma nu!
Verkar som om du har lite tid över i denna bekväma stad. Kan väl hålla med dig till 65% men det finns ju lite mer också, beror på var man tittar!
Vi kan väl ses nån dag om du har tid?
Kram Pernilla
Hi there!
First of all, I want to say thank you for your very nice words on my music blog. It’s not very often that someone leaves a message there and I am also happy that you found some songs that you like. I only have to apologize for the fact that the texts are in Portuguese and therefore difficult to understand, but music knows no boundaries or nationalities, right?
As for this text of yours, I have to say that I do identify with some of what you wrote. Having lived in many different places in my country because of work I don’t really know where my hometown is anymore. I used to think it was the town where I took my Uni degree and where I lived for 7 wonderful years, but then time passed by, the people I knew there moved to other places and I moved to other places too!
So, now, I don’t really belong anywhere, which is kind of strange! But then, this is not so bad after all, cause I tend to adapt very easily to anywhere I go!
Anyway, take care of yourself and try not to freeze. Over her in Portugal the weather has been great. Over 20º C and sunny almost every day. Just perfect!
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