Let the Sea Connect Us
By Emil Hallama
Edited & translated by Salla Harjula
The dreams we chase
The wounds we hide
The dark places we go
The people we hurt
When our pain blinds us
A raw account of a young Finn chasing the Hollywood dream.
The City of Angels. Movies. Drugs. Parties. Women. More drugs. Euphoria. Despair. And a harrowing secret that fuels the fever dream… all the way to the psychiatric ward and beyond.
This is also a story about finding a way out from underground. Learning courage – and through that, the value of kindness. Discovering that, in the end, what we consider our shame is often what people love most about us.
Something ugly can still be beautiful.
A Few Notes from Emil
Apologies. When I wrote this, the only person I was thinking about was me. It was my therapy journal. I stuffed it into an envelope and left it lying in a dusty desk drawer for years. I didn’t have the nerve to peek inside. It was too painful. I just wanted to forget it all.
When I finally dug it out again, I also thought of you. Maybe I could help someone else.
Once you start reading this, you’ll find songs along the way. I’d ask you to listen to them as you go on. They’ll bring emotional depth to the story. The lyrics are significant too.
Since this is a true story, some identifying details of people and places have been changed to protect their anonymity. Except… maybe this was all written by a certifiably crazy person? Maybe it was all just a really fucking strange day.
A traditional publisher looks for the “right” kind of book to mold into a bestseller. I write to cut off the head of the dragon – the Devil. And let me tell you, neither of us will ever truly succeed.
But you gotta try. I’m finally taking Eminem’s hand, going down a new road. Time to open the curtains. I see the red fabric has formed a kind of pyramid shape…
Chapter 1: Back in LA
18+ / Explicit content.
Chapter 1: Back in LA
The palm trees outside the airport felt like balm for my soul. For the first time, I wasn’t wondering when I’d have to leave them behind again. I was here to stay. Los Angeles would be my new home. I’d get my morning coffee from little cafés wearing nothing but shorts all year round. I’d find inner peace. Skate through life without a care in the world.
I felt the rays of the sun pricking my skin. The sun was the cure to my flexural rash. I had suffered from eczema ever since I was a kid. Stress brought it out in the worst way. The sun took care of it in a matter of hours.
I decided to save some money and took a shuttle instead of a cab. The tiny Mexican driver was holding a route map. I asked him if the shuttle would go down Wilshire Boulevard. He nodded yes. “Twenty-two dollars, fifty cents, please.”
I sat in the front. The sunset was a crimson red, a dreamy, kind of bleak scene unfolding out the window. Huge billboards with lingerie models posing on them. Small houses, high-rises, empty parks. The City of Angels is strange that way, the vibe totally changes every ten blocks. The only common denominator is that no one walks the streets. Apart from some homeless people.
There were a bunch of UCLA students on the shuttle. I felt ill watching them. Their laughter was genuine. They had spent their summers with their families. Now they were coming back to their everyday lives. The pain turned into envy by the third traffic light. The Toyota right next to us had a broken windshield. The Japanese driver was squinting ahead. I opened my phone, called Kian.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Kian told me to hurry up.
“Let’s hit the LA nightlife.”
What do you wanna do?
Throw the bottle into the sea
There’s more to this if you read on… But by clicking through and sending this on, I’m holding you to a promise.
For the next eleven days, try to see each and every person you meet as a treasure. After the experiment, please take a twenty-minute walk to reflect on how that made you feel.
Let it run aground
