This is the first time I've been alone since I was living in Korea a year and a half ago, so I guess I'm thinking a lot about myself. Trying to build myself up to work on the magazine again and put more effort into it when I have days off work, like today in the glorious Icelandic sun. But I just want to read and write music. Reading a famous Icelandic book in a coffee shop and someone comes over, tells me it's her favourite book and then tells me all these things about it that furthers my appreciation of it; it's based on one of Hallgrim's sermons, as well as an old Icelandic children's book, etc. Now I'm enjoying it even more! (it's called LoveStar by Andri Snaerr Magnusson.)
I figure because I want to read, or just physically hold books, or words, bend the pages gently and feel the weight, I want to publish and produce the books, I figure that's where I'm headed and that's what I am, and in order to take the first steps in a fruitful career in that industry, I'd inevitably need to plant roots in England, which feeds me a tasteless ambivalent feeling, a cloud sandwich, but everything feeds me that sandwich these days, except the hope of seeing my girlfriend somewhere, except the instant escape of music and books.