cremains | "Being split in two halves is no theory with me, doctor."

We moved out of the old people's home and into a new apartment in the old city of Gothenburg, where -- this is hard to describe -- at night the crowd of old buildings appear to bristle about and peer with their dim yellow windows inside the room. Before I left for Sweden, one of my old teachers said to me, "Who knows what secrets you will discover in Scandinavia that you could only uncover by going there?" Well for one, our new apartment actually belongs to a wealthy gentile sea captain and contains a locked room to which we are forbidden entry (and do not even have the key). It contains what I guess must be his most classified possessions. He left his books in the living room, including two volumes on how to kill things with falcons.

As Nabokov (and Nick Cave) wrote, the elms and the poplars are turning their ruffled backs against the wind. Everything is a fierce, rainy grey, with the exception of some yellow leaves in the gutters. The sea tries to chop up the harbour's giant shipwrighting cranes.

In other words, it is the perfect time for reading H.P. Lovecraft.

I also need to add that I've rediscovered this amazing video. It holds up so freaking well.