Fear and loathing in Sweden

Three codeine tablets, two beers, two large glasses of gin and the last of my UK skunk. Listening to Land of Talk's new album, 'Some Are Lakes'.

I'm missing the filth, the depravity and the madness of London.

Earlier today I went walking in the forest. I say in the forest as if there is one distinct forest I go walking in. There isn't. It' all just one big fucking forest. The snow that fell last night and this morning was melting. The usual silence of the deep forest was replaced by the sound of a thousand drops of melted snow falling from branch to branch, drifting from leaf to leaf, as the frozen water transformed itself for the millionth time. I sat in the forest for an hour, silent, just listening. The lack of human made stimuli was amazing. The air was fresh, my footprints were the only ones visible in the snow and the air was so clean.
Yet I find myself missing all the misery of hyper inner city life. Missing it badly.