Nifleheim

Today I woke up from a dream about Eurodomino railpasses and Guiness extra cold.

Huh, I thought, it's kind of silent and dark. Maybe it's earlier than my usual wake-up at 11 or twelve.

After a few spare-brained thoughts on that line, I looked at my mobile. It was 15.44.

Somehow, for no good reson, I slept in until four in the afternoon.

It was dark and silent because it's been snowing and I don't have the urban reminders that outside life exists in the form of housemates making toast, or obnoxious cars braking on the street.

I'm increasingly coming around to the idea that I now live in a half-world, a shadow plane between the living and dead. I'm perpetually cold and have trouble concentrating. Everything seems familiar to the point of tedium. It's just as well I don't compulsively eat everything warm and alive that I meet, or I'd be a draugr- that, or a tapper. Do you know that story? When you're working in a the dark closeness of a mine, and stop to catch your breath, you might hear distant noises. They're meant to be the sound of dead souls trying to get back into the world from their silent existence beneath the earth. That's me.

What's it like, having a blog?
Good, but you're constantly wracked with guilt.
For not updating enough?
Yes.