Isolation, carbon-fiber bikes, american Girls and dancing in gay-bars: My adventures in London


When I arrive in London in Oktober, I’m greeted by a damp town that never sleeps. ¾ entusiasm & ¼ panic.

It’s hard to write about this right now. I’m really tired. I’m home at my parents place in Sweden. It’s in the country side. I’m trying to build my own bubble of safety with help of pop-music and writing.

Bikes. Work at ”Le Peleton Cycles”. An ex-porn-peddler is my boss. He’s a really nice guy. Tried to ignore his idiosyncrasies.

Redheaded small Ida-look-a-likes who ride bikes and whom I didn’t have the time or the energy to befriend.

Stolen 1200 Pound track bicycle on Brick lane. The same night I meet she-who’s-name-shall-not-be mentioned.

Live in a shit-part of town. ”Turn me on”



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