Not even the lizards tounge

Asphalt's boiling as cars drive by, or at least that's what they had in mind when they woke up this morning. Something else met their soon irritated eyes some 20 km west of Jönköping, right where Route 40 towards Gothenburgh gives drivers the possibility to head south on Route 90 towards Gislaved and Halmstad. Jam. No, not red filled with your favourite berries and stuffed with shitloads of preservation chemicals that would make it survive Hiroshima 10 times over. No we're talking about the black substance which you mostly know as solid and grey, taking you back and forth to work everyday. Hm, ok. Loosing my thread here. Anyways, the location described above is loaded with road workers and all sorts of machines that even would slow Michael Schumacher down to his knees. Luckily, that's on the other side of the road. This is where we step aside from western paths to head on south. However, that was 5 or 10 minutes ago, whereas my pen began caressing this paper with it's gently royal bearer, known as Yours Truly.

I'm on my way to Halmstad again. But not to stay, but to continue by car to Lund. Oh yeah, I already told you in my last post. Not easy not having my computer in front of me.

No sign of them this time. They must've gone undercover. They generally reveal themselves by their ever... hm, let met rewrite that sentence. You generally recognize them from their huge packpacks they carry around, ever-smiling and ever-urging for new destinations. Come on! Gosh, good people of earth settle down! Get yourself a household, join a country club, buy ten pizzas and get the eleventh for free, watch Oprah, get to know your postman, clear out 100% on Final Fantasy IIV, do the laundry, do the moonwalk at Wendy's, do the waitress, do the boss, get hired, get a volvo and three kids, get depressed... ok, hold on here. Perhaps skip that depression part. Hey, don't look at me! You haven't even met the boss yet! Who knows, she might be hot! Ok, fine. I'll get to the point. The point is, hm. I don't really know how to put it... Let me take it from another angle. CISV is an organization that allows young people to travel abroad to see new cultures and meet new people. At CISV camps. Man! I can't stand it! Problem is, just travelling around as nomads giv es you a shallow identity. Think about it. It's like baking a cake just using A LOT of ingredients but pointlessly small amounts of each ingredient. Well, you do have a gigantic and complex recipe with herbs only to be found at the highest of mountains but seriously, WHO GIVES A SHIT? Exactly, that's how it's gonna taste. You get a shallow identity made by cheap souvenirs crafted by less paid youngsters who really just want a new computer. So they can play Gears of War and Battlefield 2142. I feel sorry for them.

Beam me up, Scotty