David Erik

"This blog has more redesigns than posts" - Any reader

Det blev en bok!

Okej, det kanske inte är en rimlig anledning till en två år lång blogg-frånvaro. Men låt oss fokusera på det positiva: jag har skrivit en bok!

The Return of the Ghost

I guess the first time I can blame unclear time schedules. This time I cut it down but deliberately kept four hours. I’ve come to enjoy the hours just after something intense, but before you are back in reality, as some kind of meditation. The Ease-out-of-the-bubble-effect.

This post goes out to those girls in that car that one time.

Jag sprang ett varv

Fredag. 22:00. Oktober. Åtta grader. Mörkt utöver fotbollsplanens strålkastare.
En timer på 20 minuter. Ett varv runt planen är 400 meter.

Traveling with Phil

I’m from Sweden. I stand in line politely. If I can dodge an awkward situation by being silent, avoiding conflicts, and generally be kind of passive to the surroundings, I’ll most likely do that.

Phil is not from Sweden.

The ghost of Östersund Airport

Some airplane technician with an yellow vest is about to order something. Might as well take this opportunity to grab another freshly pressed orange juice. The staff is very friendly, but not very present. When I first arrived, I surprised both the woman working with luggage, the woman working in security and the girl in this cafeteria.

Hur det gick till.

Hörde du? David har ju fullständigt tappat det, till sist.

Mannen med hålet i foten. Och själen.

Detta är en (inte speciellt kort) återgivelse av min process att försöka laga en trasig fot. Det kanske ibland verkar som att jag insinuerar att sjukvården försenat denna process genom misstag. Men de misstag som är relevanta är främst mina egna. Oroa dig inte: jag kommer markera ut dem.

Moving towards your mountain

This post was found abandoned in an old folder. My routines have changed in many ways since then. But the conclusions are still valid. And I still lack a mountain. Also, the physical risk from floor ball did catch up with me and managed to destroy my inferior extensor retinaculum. I may have googled that term. But still.

A trip to Stockholm

This is a brief description of when my father and I traveled eleven hours south along the swedish E4 road with Stockholm as the end destination, in a dirty white car loaded with all my possessions. Except for a bike, a pair of downhill skis, and a coin collection with an approximated value of 1500 SEK, even though one of the coins actually is dated 1868.

When your phone dies, don’t die with it. Live without it

This is a story from a weekend when I visited Stockholm, long before I moved there and knew anything about the city. It should be mentioned, however, that it could as well happen today. My navigation skills are sparse, so to speak.