Read a bit. Still writing, still confused. Continue to search anything Scandinavian, and listen to a Danish radio.
Finished another Harold Pinter's short play collection, and found myself surprisingly enjoy it than his other works. Also, unexpectedly read an American writer's, Thomas Wolfe, little book about 'The Story of a Novel'. It speaks my heart, that thin book, very much.
Had a bitter ending with the potential future housemate. The uncertainty prevents me from signning the contact and they found someone else to substitute me, just within one day! HA!
I don't want to get my hopes high, but it is inevitable. Well, dream a little dream of mine, as always. Or, the life would be too unbearable.
Saw several excitiing play news that are going to open during Autumn season. This would be something I would miss the most, than the freedom.
Anyhow, I want a holiday that I could not afford to, but I want it desperately. And, man,
I still love Mads Mikkelsen.