I'm making a record. God knows when it's ready. Today I went cross country skiing. During the weekend I played with a free jazz orchestra.
I remember Buenos Aires, the green hills of California. Adelaide.
I have existential angst.
I really don't know what the future holds. If the record takes more than a year to make, I'll have to rent out my apartment and studio and move to the country house. It's not a bad idea, it doesn't frighten me anymore. It almost feels like something good.
Suddenly it all seems simpler.
I want some kids. I want to carry them around. Agnes tells me its called skruk in danish. She's got perfect pitch for cooking.
I want to go back to USA again, make it right this time. Fck, everything seems to fall into places now, as I type. It's alright, everything is alright.
I don't have to make more songs, I've got enough, I'll live in the country house til mom and dad dies, and then I'll have to fight with the rest of the family over selling that house, but ill be pretty old by then, i might even have some songs to play.
34% of people are more or less stupid, evil or lost. It could be you or me.
There are some people I really care alot of. I wonder what I should do for them. I should have them for dinner here. I live under false name, the stockholm housing situation, (not being a millionare), and I havent really had any friends over, FOR 8 months. She says the real millionaire is the person with a lot of time. So you can go skiing on a monday.
It feels alot better, knowing i dont even have to finish another record in my life. Its alright as it is. I would love to, but i cant push it. Not anymore. Plus there are some songs, sounds and ideas im so proud of already.
The best one is Violent. If you ask me I could lend out my soul and sing it for you on the phone. But it would have to be for an extraordinary reason, cause im very busy doing almost nothing at all.
Good night where you are in the world. Be brave, no one's gonna carry your sorrows.