Ok it is getting closer and closer to the time when everyone should by unforeseen law here in niceland that is darkland right now, be happy. Well for some twisted but totally understandable reason i am not. I mean i am always happy on some level, but in the last week or so i have been very pissed off. And i mean pissed off. At everything and everyone. Possible maybe because i stopped smoking about a month ago. Possible maybe because i have not had sex for far too long. And i hate doing mindless and stupid looking things like jogging. I can't rollerblade, the streets are covered with tar coloured left overs of snow. Yes i am pissed off, i am also full of self pity, yes i know "misery is a choice" but hey fuck that i want to be miserable. I don't know if you know but we islanders icelanders do the christmas thing a day early. We open the packages on the 24th and eat the good stuff at 6 that night. Well that day at 6 my father walked into a river in 1987, he walked into a icy river and his body has never been found, at that also pisses me off. Even though i am most of the time totally cool with it and i have forgiven him a long time ago what happened.
Here is the stuff i wrote about it when it happened in my diary - the diary of the chameleon
In the air, a scent of death, bleeds into the scent of Christmas. I pull out my diary, and write my will on the last pages. I don’t have many material possession. I decide to give my best friend all my books and my brother my records. I can feel in the marrow of my bones that something is going to happen. Something I know in my heart, but I dare not think of. Tomorrow is Christmas day, but I can’t feel any excitement at all.
The lights are weak.
I dreamt the same dream all night long. When I finally managed to pull myself out of it, I wasn’t sure what was a dream and what was reality. In the dream I was within the body of the chameleon. Every time the circumstances changed, I changed. I tried to brake out of the chameleons spell, but the fear wouldn’t let go. I drew in other people’s emotions as paper draws ink. I was multicolored but never me, lost within the expectations of the environment.
When I woke up I put on a long black dress with velvet flowers and pulled on my Dr. Martins, tried to get into the joyful mood of Christmas.
We drove over the mountain, the heath, the moss, towards my grandparents village, who are in Egypt over the holidays, but we thought it would be fun to be in their little castle. Everybody is going to be there, even Ægir my adopted father, despite the fact that him and mom have divorced. We are going to try to recapture the glow of past Christmas. See if the magic of the house would make it’s way in our hearts.
We arrived just before the storm and begin to make things ready for our family festival. I was not much help. I felt really strange and more quiet then usual. Outside the storm was building up. I have always liked storms, but this storm was different. It felt dangerous. My father Ægir arrived from his little fishing village near by, with my brother. He said he was going to run some errands before dinner and left my brother with us. The day has run it’s course, the Christmas dinner is cold but my father is nowhere to be found. He is lost. The storm is a blizzard and I am scared. The rescue squat is looking for him on the mountain, the heath, the moss.