festive details

oh, you're leaving? please do, leave your shit too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

at least this guy had the guts to bring back his paddlebike.

the campingsite becomes so much like a postapocalyptic landfill after it's officially over. when it's crowded with people, you don't notice all the junk. the moment they leave, it becomes clear how much we can afford to leave behind. i went scavenging. of course. found a couple of decent shoes and an expensive jumper. not to mention all the beer, müslibars and tinned fish i also gathered.

next year i'll bring a car and stuff it with all the beer left behind by others and try smuggle it across any given border.

like a stove

one of my very finest moments at this years RF was seeing, hearing, feeling and absorbing Analogik and their concert at the Cosmopol stage.
the only thing i knew after seeing them was that my mind would never be the very same again (luckily) and that i had to haunt them down for another experience similar to this one.
such heavy duty freaky dancing. it became this years finest event of possessed movement of the body, dictated by the soul and its reaction when hit by music.
the ecstasy and euphoria this band caused me to have both before, meanwhile and afterwards thrones at the very top of any list concerning truly happy moments. i'm left with no simple words to describe the event that took place both there and within me that evening, but something changed, and will stay forever changed.

i'm very thankful. my brain was spread all over the floor due to all the mindfucking they presented for us. Analogik, thank you, again, for coming to life and for bringing forth such insane music.

 i was too busy dancing my ass off to take any good pictures to show, but i'll try post some anyways:

there's probably no need for me to add this, but people went absolutely crazy to these danes performing both the weirdest music i've heard in a long time And the wackiest/most fitting stageshow ever seen. the screen in the background kept playing such otherworldly artwork whilst the band themselves freaked out, just as weirdlooking as anything else in there.
i just wanted to dance and enjoy the concert, so i hung out in the sweetspot, which does not neccesarily make for good pictures of what happened on stage, but meh. you only live once.

ah yes, the strain

thinking about roskilde. what an event.
five meters from the roskilde trainstaion we found an old pub, a bodega, with loads of original characters and cheap beer. the only reason for going in there, was charging this energyconsuming monsterphone of his. instead we turned out drunk off our faces because the local barflies took such good care of us. and the genuinely liked us. i spent my time, when not able to understand the danes and their weird accent, folding smaller and smaller paperplanes. i wanted to make the smallest plane these old men had ever seen. yes, the need to compete is strong with me. it went something like this:

obviously, the planes i made became popular and drifted around the pub for sheer enjoyment and awe.

these old chaps (there were many more behind and besides us, i just didn't dare take their photo) were some of the funniest guys we met during the festival. actually, we got so caught up in them, we forgot the fucking line at our booking-entrance. vital for getting a good campingspot. usually refered to as 'the run'.

ah well:

yes, there was lots of shotting involved as well. fuck them and their brilliant drinkinggame. i had to do at least 5 shots of shitty Fisherman. how we got the tent up really baffles me..



 a couple of days later, i had to take this photo:

just to illustrate how far we got before ending up utterly smashed. the station is to the right and the bodega is to the left. what time was it? probably around 13-14. we didn't even make it to the festivalarea, which was 20 mins by bus away from here. the camping opened at 18:00 and we should have been in line for the run at least two or three hours in advance. well, we sure taught ourselves a harsh lesson.

next year: don't get drunk before the run. instead, invest in getting a good spot so you won't curse over it for the rest of the festival. after finding a good spot - get drunk with the rest of the festivalgoers AFTERWARDS. i'll say this again - i have NO idea how we got the tent up, especially after we smoked when finally getting to the que at 17:55-ish. brilliant idea. *slow clap*

we never dared set foot in that bodega again out of such immense fear and vivid memories of the grotesque hangover we got. at 22:00 in the evening the first day..

you look great today

this place will keep my heart warm during the winter

i'm thinking about alter egos again

or to be honest, i am thinking rather little nowadays. no new epiffanies to spread across sheets and pages.
soiled down to the very smallest skin of a cell. a thin membrane made to soak only what it needs.
me, i absorb way too much in smaller and smaller lapses of time. to reflect upon anything that's even remotely irrelevant is getting harsher by the minute. still, to fill the vacuum.. there's always something to fill it with. stuff it with.

who's good at being bored. being bored is better than being boring. better than boring somebody else. or, worse still - better than being bored by somebody else.
i love being bored in my own company. spending time with myself is a true privelige.

antisocial behaviour is my speciality, and it makes me feel contented. for so many reasons.

 

nowadays i spend my time trying to empty out as many cans of beer as possible, it seems, whilst living in the past. relive seconds of sheer joy, relive things because they alway appear better with time. good memories age well and sure develops alot of nuances as time pass.

glitch

i met bjørk

at the roskilde festival. what an evening it was.