One day I will go to Malmo

My temporary home, next to the fjords in Jarna, Sweden.




Yes, it was fun. and humid. the surface of the tent was frozen every morning we woke up. Sometimes I dreamed I would lose my legs since they were feeling so cold. But as far as my body is warm, legs and arms are not a big issue. I'm fine with it.

I don't look like a hippie, you can say so. I shaved in the morning and dressed the jacked my mother hand-mad for me. Maybe my hair are a bit ruffled by the wind. It's not my fault if they are curly. it would be easier if they would be straights but I guess they'd look dirtier. who cares? the only important thing is hosting these random travel mates in my life. and understanding theirs.

Is he happy about having to give up his plans to lead the family company? Is he ok with being in the petrol business? why does he keep saying "we live close to the Continent. you know, in one hour we are there...". why not to describe the beauty of the countryside and the place were he sleeps every night, next to the woman sitting at his side, who didn't talk a word for the whole journey?

Malmo. here is where they live. Malmo. such a mysterious sound... open vocals spaced out by sweet consonants. Producing the first M is like getting ready for a kiss. A of surprise for its beauty. LMO: send that kiss in the space.
such a beautiful shape my mouth takes to speak the word. Malmo. the mystery of a place that tells me about water, forests and Nordic city lines. And people who want to escape to the Continent.

Malmo: Italian sounds that make me think about the little gypsy sitting next to me. she is the one looking like a hippie and i don't understand how we managed to get the ride. here she is, looking outside the window to catch glimpses of the lakes next the highway. It seems there is always a lake you can go to wash your thoughts, in Sweden. You can sit at its border and look at the clouds mirrored in the water. And forget about anything else than your breath.

When she is not into herself, her body moves forward to catch the meaning of our driver's stories. or she lies back to look at him from the rear mirror.

I know she will go back home, after this other adventure, playing with stories and memory in my behalf. taking the license of writing in my name. giving freedom to the inspiration that came through life and pictures. and I don't care if I will end up being another of her characters in the not-written yet novel of her life. or at least she hopes I will not care.


infisterra's picture

in lak'ech, soy otro tú

yep, this story is a beauty in all its floating narrative. i love the description of the name Malmö, i've never thought about the word like an anticipated suspended kiss into space, but it's absolutely true.

i'm back in berlin now, it was an intense whirlwind trip and a lovely quick visit to Casa.. we'll catchup by the canal sometime this week, vale, yes?

valentina's picture

confusion: so fashinating confusion...

so, I knew it was gonna be hard to get and i love the joke that came out!

the story is written as it was impersonated by my travel mate, Bas, who is a guy. so he shave his face, I don't do it with my legs that often but maybe it is time to do since spring arrived.

the story telling is a mix of my perceptions, his comments, my feelings, fiction and reality. sometimes it is him speaking. sometimes I speak through him. sometimes i speak of myself via his eyes and voice.

I am the little gypsy sat next to him, playing with his character and mixing up memories. :)

robino's picture

I really love this story so

I really love this story so much! Especially the style you've chosen makes it a pearl.

gutuAter's picture


"But as far as my body is warm, legs and arms are not a big issue"
"I shaved in the morning and dressed the jacked..."
- Vale, since when you have a beard? or is that how you got rid of your curly hair? or did you actually shave your frozen legs?

I miss you, girl! :)