Wolf's Out

Month: April, 2018

November, darkness , and snow.

Stockholm, November 2016

The first snowy days of the year were already approaching and the darkness that comes with them. The city not only changed its appearance, but its inhabitants attitude dramatically changed for a more stiff and depressing reaction towards daily life. Complains about the weather, hardly structured routines and unwillingness to be spontaneous were some of the newly injected characteristics into the minds of everyone. The winter, besides being a season of the year, was also a newly discovered mentality for me and it bugged me. Many swedes I met abroad spoke about it, yet I never fully understood it until this point and in a way I was both scared and fascinated how it highly influenced their lives, yet I couldn’t really accept that it will be the same for me.

It was predicted that the record snowstorms were coming to Scandinavia and people asked me if I have seen snow before in my life, as if every single part of Mexico was a paradise like Playa del Carmen. The white cover of the winter slowly started to appear in every roof and street and the temperature dropped with it. The snow flakes became more of a common view from my window, which showed how beautiful and annoying the winter days can be at the same time.

I found myself drinking more, more confused and yet  in a very odd way was fascinated by this new change.  My days passed by as usual and the tiredness also invaded my insides for each day the sunlight diminished.  For every day my routines became full of planned activities in order to avoid being alone in my apartment looking at the window to see the sunset before 4 p.m.

Advertisements

Halloween with poor designed costumes

Stockholm, October 2016

I used to be really exited about Halloween back home for the simple fact that people actually were exited about it. Everybody took their fair amount of time and money to come up with a cool costume or at least end up hooking for a sexy version of any profession.  I met with a friend and decided to hit a club which for their Facebook page appeared to take it more seriously.  We got some paint and ended up pulling off semi decent face painted mask. The club was pretty classy with good music, fair sized dance-floor and a bunch of good looking girls, but the amount of people actually wearing a costume was disappointing. Things weren’t the same as home, which deeply reminded how things wouldn’t be the same, and all my excitement was poured with the overpriced gin and tonics I drank.

The night went on and my drunken self forced himself to have fun and dance, as nostalgic fire burned me from inside out, which for being just three months away was ridiculous. Was I that of a cry baby? Did I actually moved all the way just to complain for the lack of sexy policewomen and sexy-nurses on a Halloween night? I put myself together and started walking to the bar to kill my uneasiness with a tequila shot. Just about when I was about to give up and go home, a dear friend of mine managed to get invited to a table full of middle-aged men drinking expensive champagne and smuggled me into the V.I.P. area, where we drank Don Perignon for free and I ended up meeting a girl with the same paint-mask as me with whom I ended up in bed later that night.

As I woke up and looked myself at the mirror to a semi-blurred skull paint and red hangover eyes, I realized how unsure of my future I really was and maybe that was the main reason I deeply wished for a nice Halloween, to feel that life didn’t changed as much as I believed.. but it did and the only way dealing with it was accepting it and move on for the things to come. I walked down the street in a shameful display of my half destroyed Halloween costume with my Ray-Ban Club-master glasses on, yet easy with my inner conclusion. A kid cried when he saw me at the metro as I left the station close to my house.

Independence day

Stockholm, September 16th 2016

It had been 3 weeks since I moved to Stockholm and everything seemed positive around me. I really liked my classes, had a bunch of new friends, got a nice apartment, met a bunch of new girls. Even though my original plans had to change, they weren’t really dependent on me, everything was going in a good direction.

It was a Friday and after speaking with a couple of Mexicans I knew, we decided to have a small party. This time the good tequila, the fireworks and the red, green and white flags would be absent; but we still would found a way to celebrate it with heavy drinking and home made spicy food. People started to show as the party went on with latino beats and heartbroken mariachi songs, which for being 10,000 km away felt a little like home. The party ended a little earlier and I ended up half drunk in a techno club with some people of my class. No paint on my face, no tequila bottle on hand.. but Viva Mexico all the way.