..to never give up
I had not met with my fellow radicals for more then a month. Reason: January happened. It is my month of introspection. I had hardly been out of the house. I worked like a maniac on my novel, the diary of the chameleon. It is in its final prove in icelandic but i had to trow away my previous english translation. Why: it sucked; and i had changed the book so much since i translated it that it was not the same. so 35000 words out the window... what a good feeling. ugly little bastards when they are out of proportion. oh how can i say such a thing. one should love they children no matter if misfits.
So i met with my fellow raidcals at the radical center and there was a good group of the same faces that are doing things at the edge of the legal. Storming our rather ugly city with messages to our sleeping brothers and sisters. Maybe the words contain a magic formula that might wake them up.
I love this city; even if it is ugly; it is gray, oh it is gray during winter. But it has mountains hugging its bordres and the ever shifting color of the ocean. The geese at the pond have in a charming way lost their mind from hunger and attack the hands that feeds them. It has very few things for the eye but yet those ugly things in a pile are my Reykjavik and i love the things under the crust. The nests; the eccentric people in them; and the ravens.
Á ströndinni er selshamur ......