If you had a glacier staring at you without eyes from its place next door, and the sea on the other side of your house, you would know that you live at a meeting place, and it’s not yours.
November 5, 2016, Viðey
It comes as a flood. It comes in a fog river many kilometres in width. It doesn’t come from the Atlantic. That is Caribbean water out there. Up in the sky, well, that is a far different thing. That is not this world at all.
Here they are in Kerlingardalur, thinking and remembering. What else is consciousness?
Well, yes, ice, but that comes from beyond the world. That is unconsciousness. That is what you need thought and memory for, lest they have you.
That’s the way of the black road.