The spirits here have been trying very hard to tell me the story of the land.
There is so much weight, a lethargy caused by the forces if nature bearing down on the people.
There is much pain, much death. Unpleasant deaths.
I feel forlorn. Grieving.

I feel heavy, wet wool. Water so cold it paralyses you.
Sinking. Always sinking.
Always starving. 

I have so much respect for the Icelandic people.
They are the strongest of the viking clans, the celtic clans.
I feel my ancestors pulling at my coat tails, saying “Hey, I’ve been trying to talk to you this whole fucking time.”

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