On a particularly shitty day, I was waiting for my therapy sessions at my partner’s house, in Iceland. I am not Icelandic, I am Polish, and hence coming here is always a little bit weird, although not in a negative way. Iceland is a thing of its own, it’s nothing like Europe, it’s nothing like the U.S., but you can see the influences of the West in populated, urban areas or big highway stops with diners and gas stations. It’s a bit of a melting pot of local aspects and those borrowed from abroad, a pick and choose: this we want to include, this we don’t want, this perhaps here, but absolutely not there. There’s an intense sense of preservation here, and Icelanders want Iceland to be Icelandic, nothing else. But at the same time, there’s this contradicting feeling of wonder towards other cultures, a sense of curiosity, what’s out there, outside of the island, and you can feel the permeating ghost of capitalist desire.

After a while, all I could do was lay there, until I eventually cried. I wanted to deal with it on my own, so I told my partner to go ahead and visit his family without me, and I will see what I can do about the session, and with my time. As he left, I did not know what to do. I emailed back and forth with my therapist, expressing my confusion and indecision, not being sure if I should still do the session today, whether they would have time for it, etc. In the end, they told me to email them when I’m ready to do it, and I decided to just have a walk, nothing else feeling right enough to pursue. With flashbacks to my parents’ abusive behaviour, fights with my friends, broken promises to myself, and failed projects, I couldn’t get my mind to stop racing, and I just had to walk.

And so, I walked. I wasn’t sure where exactly I was walking, the only thing I knew was which direction the centre of Reykjavik was. But I wasn’t sure if that’s where I was heading. I wasn’t sure if I was gonna have a 15 minute walk, or 50 minute walk. I didn’t want to listen to Charli anymore, I didn’t want to listen to Chappell anymore, I didn’t want to listen to anything too sad, too deep, too happy, too silly. My brat summer was over, everything felt like shit, and I didn’t want to listen to anything at all, but I also felt a profound need to listen to something. The only thing that popped to my mind, to the tune of Lil Yachtie’s Poland, was: I took a waaaaaaalk… to Iceland. The stupidity and grotesqueness of this line playing in my head was so stupid and grotesque, that I laughed through the tears, and kind of just cringed at myself. That’s when I thought - okay maybe Marvin Gaye?

As I spoke to Zośka, and walked into the city, I told them everything, how I felt, what happened in the last few months, where I was. My phone was on 10% battery, and so I said, let’s switch to a normal call since we were FaceTiming. Bestie, maybe tell someone where you are first? Fallen angel. Guardian angel. Good idea, lol. Thanks for thinking for me. I called my partner and told him where I was: You went all the way there?! Are you okay?? I was okay. I felt better. I didn’t realise how far it was, but I also knew that the mere distance of my journey was not the alarming part. So I’m glad Zośka told me to call him, I’m glad I didn’t worry him, I’m glad he knew where I was. And where I was was right outside Lemmy.

Today marks the third week I’m here. I’m sitting in 12 Tónar, writing this piece. When I walked in, I had the pleasure to be served some delicious black coffee by the owner of the spot. 12 Tónar is a record store and a music venue, founded in 1998. In 2003, it became an indie record label, and in 2019 it started operating as a bar and a café as well. All-in-one. All the profits go back directly into music, as they commit to remain dedicated to the local scene, creating an environment for artists, locals, and tourists alike to work, meet-up, and just hang out (they have a cool chessboard downstairs).