Stockholm, part III - Gamla Stan and the Palace

'You will not know this for some time,' he said, 'but the longing for something--for someone--is vastly superior to possession. The strain of desire is the greatest sensation, the ultimate folly of God. I believe this is why we are always dissatisfied with art and life and people and experience: nothing can compete with our imaginations and our strength of desire. It is wise to always desire something, to keep something of a flame, an energy, to one's life and heart.'

I'm here now, here out in the ME, and it's here of all places and today of all days that I chose to continue updating my journal. Or perhaps I just had a very long day at work.

Stockholm, walking through the streets with Jake, and stopping for him and doing my very best to immerse myself in the moment. One fallacy of our generation, I think, is that this concept of carpe diem, of living in the moment, has been so resolutely hammered into our minds that we're too busy worrying about living in the moment and not actually living it. We're going through the motions and mouthing the words but not channeling the emotions. I don't know. Maybe I'm overthinking this, but I like myself when I overthink things. When I stop overthinking things, when I'm numb and dull, is when I begin to worry.

Do you know what I miss? I miss walking home along the Thames after class, which usually ended at either 5 or 6. By that time it was usually dark, because it was the Michaelmas term, and because for me London will always be frozen in time, in the autumn of 2013; specifically, October and November. Walking across Kingsway, down Surrey Street, past Temple and down to the Victoria Embankment and the Thames; seeing the glittering yellow lights of Southbank and the OXO tower, and walking down to Blackfriars bridge. Up and under the Blackfriars underpass and then to South Bank. South Bank will always be my home; I love The City and the Strand and Bloomsberg, but South Bank was the place I would always return to when all my wanderings were done. I would walk home along the river, which was black at night, and it was almost always crowded, the promenade. Past Founders' Arms, then Shakespeare's Globe, and then beneath Southwark Bridge and past the Clink, past the Old Thameside Inn, then through Southwark Cathedral and to the other side, to my beloved London  Bridge. I will never stop loving that area for as long as I live, and never stop yearning for that, either. I know on this very blog two years ago, I said I was happy about moving out, but now I look back through the rose tinted lens of nostalgia, and that was the best thing I ever did, in a way no other experience ever was, except maybe travelling. I was 22 then. Maybe I liked it because I was 22. Thank goodness I didn't stay in Taiwan for my graduate degree. I would have pined away in Taiwan and allowed my soul to crumble into pedagogic, self-indulgent demise. London is the reason I love cities rather than people; it all started from there, that hazy, chilly morning in October 2013.

Recently I've been very conscious of my own age and the passing of time. I always have - I did write my master's thesis on it, and got a distinction for that, too - but more so now that I'm here and in my mid twenties. I like living in my own house of cards, although my time is ticking away slowly but surely. Typical, really, that I'm writing an entry about Stockholm and yet all I can do is reminisce about London and the year I was 22. The truth is that I didn't notice that much of Stockholm. I remember the speedwell-blue sky and the picturesque pastel-coloured buildings lining the promenade. The restaurants and the way they were built to accommodate the sloping landscape, and how Jake and I used to sit on the outermost step. I would watch the people passing by, whilst he would take a long drag on his neverending cigarettes and look down at his plate, and then out too at whichever slanted cobbled street we happened to be sitting in.

Enough thoughts. I would like it very much if I could get at least this entry out by the end of this hour. It'll be my very first blog post from the Gulf region.

This restaurant was apparently an 'eat-all-you can' and served some of the best soup cubes and fried dried onion that I've ever tasted in my life. Two bowls was more than enough for me, however