The lack of decent bars in this town is bad enough
The fact that even the dull ones close on a Sunday is excruciating
The lack of decent bars in this town is bad enough
The fact that even the dull ones close on a Sunday is excruciating
A few lifetimes ago someone commented that they likedĀ my music choices
I remembered that the comment was a pleasant surprise. Making someone feel better even for a moment is a wish come true.
If after listening you wonder where I go in my dreams, I wander in a beautiful city.
Ah it’s that time of year again
A time of decisions
Sleep with clothes on, sweat, but keep the sheets clean
Sleep with no clothes on, sweat, but keep the clothes clean
Sleep with AC on, get a sore throat and sweat when you get the electricity bill
Pretentiousness is a prosaic offering dressed up in fancy trinkets and priced as if it’s a slice of heaven.
Which perfectly describes the restaurants opening in this town in the last few years
There is something darkly funny in watching people flock to places serving glorified greek food in small portions and paying through the nose for the privilege. Flicking through pictures of tatooed chefs in macho poses, and plates of fava, dolmades, a single octopus leg and other stuff that you can get at a local cookshop I realised that in our time satire really did die.
Let’s be honest. No one looks good when eating
Etherserenity – the feeling of peace and lightness of self that comes over you when you look down on the world from the window of an airplane or tower
Today it was one of those days
Where you really need 500ml of Coke to feel a semblance of satisfaction but you only have 330.
I guess the best part of alcohol is that it makes time faster.
The waiter brings a pancake with eggs to the table next to me
I drink
The waiter picks up the empty plate from the table next to me
There comes a point in a man’s life where even if he wants to take a piss, the thought of going to a restaurant’s restroom and then going through that hot air blaster process is just too fucking annoying. The man says “I can hold it until I get home” and leaves
Memory reproduction without access to Star Trek technology or a high-end movie studio are rather ephemeral affairs with low levels of fidelity.
And it all depends on the level of subtlety that you are going for.
For example if you simply miss the rain pouring down on you a decade ago you stand under the shower and close your eyes. Easy.
I miss the feeling of rain drops hitting my face indirectly – from bouncing off pavements and walls or carried by the breeze.
So I had to feel a bath tub, lie down in it, open the shower and tilt the flexible faucet so that the jet coming out of it hit the water at precisely the angle required for impact droplets to hit my cheeks.
Couldn’t bring a fan in the bathroom – too dangerous anyway – so no breeze but for a few moments it did bring back a wonderful early evening
And well, since I was already in a tub I had a bath too. A decent outcome, all things considered.