‘ & for every snake, a ladder will compensate. ‘

i for one can feel the minute fraction of dislocation that 13 hours of air travel had inflicted.

as i orientated myself once more in an environment quite foreign, i can’t help but to feel rather blotted out at the mercy of translation.

here i am at pause, amidst the ideal model of a highly urbanized city, among the local urbanites happily strolling towards their local café, fluently speaking a language so foreign to my ears.

i am beginning to hear the melody. this is all rather surreal. as echt as i thought it would be. but the melody beckons me on.

jet lag. culture shock. what you may call this devil of dislocation, it’s the lullaby i’ve always wanted to hum along to.

& so the adventure begins.

han kan selvfølgelig tale engelsk, men han kan ikke tale dansk. yet.

a.

another lovely song by megan.