Abortive reflections on Swedish happenings
In the dying days of my year studying abroad, I had vowed that I would write something coherent, almost meaningful. It would attempt to reflect my experiences, drawing together the anecdotes of what became my everyday life. Yet for months I felt I couldn't, trapped between the fine details that together felt too abstract and disconnected, and the gently fading clarity I held towards the details even as they slowly pulled together. This isn't novel, merely the process of memory twisting and evolving as my brain continually tries to adapt towards the world around me. But I also noticed my own passivity that seemed to impact my thinking, removing myself from the life I was leading. In messages and in conversation, I would increasingly draw on phrases that distanced my role as an actor in my own biopic. Life was 'accelerating away', 'happening too quickly', even drawing on lyrical references in 'happening to me whilst I was busy making other plans'. For rea...