Ég kyngi tári
og anda hári
minn besti vinur
hverju sem dynur
ég óska mér
nú rætist saga.
"The clouds are beautiful today", I found myself stating to my brother this morning.
That was the end of the wonder that was this particular October Thursday. After that it's been a haze of headaches and uttermost vexation. I generally dislike writing when I'm feeling annoyed, but today I felt like screaming at times (I think I did, actually). I have to vent some of my rage.
I conveniently, first thing in the morning, stumbled upon a "documentary", which I have an aversion to calling it, on interrogation on television. I was once again reminded why I do not watch television in general. I want a documentary to present me with information new to me, to entertain with interesting anecdotes and to make me think. This one did nothing of the sort. It provoked me to the verge of lunacy with it's ways of presenting the truth to the viewer, as if it were the simplest of matters. Yes, communists are, in fact, the essence of evil. I know this now, after watching this marvelous piece of media. It really is that simple.
When my brother presented me with the offer to take a walk with him to the shopping complex(even the word itself is repelling) nearby, I couldn't refuse. Nice to get out of the house and away from the television for a bit, get some fresh air and clear my head.
Oh well. It seems, it is not enough to build these shopping complexes on every street corner, so as to make it impossible to avoid at least walking through them if you want to get around. Nowadays, people selling their completely futile whatchamacallits and doohickeys are not confined to the stores. They actually assault you in the "hallways" combining the stores (which constitute to this wonderful concept of the shopping complex) with various indisputable offers. And they wont take no for an answer.
Did I mention they've built a blockade of some form of remote-controlled-build-it-yourself-personalized-monstertrucks right in front of the grocery store? And they've hired children to run around and play with them, telling all the other children, passing by with their parents, that this car in particular is the ultimate christmas(that day of the year that occurs in two months when you get a bunch of cool stuff) gift. Since it is personalized, you have to buy every single part by itself, of course. Simple genius.
Since the brief but brutal shopping trip I've been desperately trying to unwind. The solution was an unexpected one. The wonders of television were, once again, thrown upon me, this time with rather more pleasant results. It was a documentary on Cuba, the Castro brothers, and communist martyr Che Guevara. After which, me and my brother, decided to put on the "Motorcycle Diaries". I was instantly whisked away from the discomforting reality of consumer driven capitalism.
Furthermore, I am leaving the big city for the cosy reality of small town living, only a day left and I'll be at home, alone in my apartment, enjoying my solitude. Where the television is safely locked away in the broom cabinet.