Going to meet the King
In the most northern part of this world, there is a land called Sweden.
It has had many warriors, kings and vikings roaming and ruling its bounderies, leaving nothing behind, but mayham and sorrow, especially on the Brittish Isles.
I am to meet the king in the morning light, on the second day of the month of May.
What am I to say to such a noble creature? Is he perhaps better than me; is his blood blue, and not red, as the carpet upon we will walk upon on greeting him?
The whole thing got started because my girlfriend is getting a reward for her writing, her name is Linda Boström Knausgård, her ex-husband is a million-seller writer who wrote a biography of his life, with her in it (of course) but non the less; he called it Mein Kampf, which is pretty bold, but cool as well, as to take the cape of the sorcerer and let the words be free again: so:
I am to go with her to meet the King of Sweden as he gives her this scholarship, (a pretty big bunch of money, plus the honor)
So what am I to say?
Do I keep cool? Do I act the rebel? Do I give a shit?
Do I make it "Punk-rock" and just steal the show and laugh like a maniac, like Johnny Rotten, or Steve McQueen?
Do I just be the king?
The greatest thing of it all is that my girlfriend is getting her recognition.
So now you know that.
I wont fuck it up.
Words by Ivan R
Read 147 times
Written on 2018-04-26 at 01:18
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email