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The drilling drill
I just wanted to let you know my neighbour, one of them, I don’t know which, seems to have opened a workshop in his apartment. Either that, or he is a compulsive driller with a drilling machine. And his drilling comes in different pitches, low and high, so I imagine a variety of materials being processed during the day. In seemingly unrelated news, have I mentioned my urge to kill him? :)
Today like the lost last night
Last night, theater night. By invitation. Big national festival. Posh people, intelligentsia. Simultaneous translation whispered into the earpieces, from Hungarian. I had serious concentration problems because of my limited (edition) attention span and memory of a goldfish. Following Scene Two I started elaborating on my panic attack. About things I cannot really control: reports at work, money at home etc. I slept like somebody forced me. And I dreamt about the jerk. Early wake up call and I was wide-awake in my warm bed, not very motivated to proceed. But I did. To no avail. The car refused to start. At least I was on time at work to deal with a crap load of… work. Today I have felt that most of my efforts were pointless.
Update with flea and all
I am back from
Budapest, where obviously Spoon lounge was open for business. I am now in my bed listening to my neighbour’s “
manele” party which will go all night and force me to make use of the Air France ear plugs. And we hunted down a big flea in our sheets. It is still not clear where it was coming from. Most probably from my dog. Nasty little creature. The flea, not the dog. It was caught under a glass, on my bed spread. Then moved over a little piece of cardboard, then transferred to the bathroom all together, where we sprayed poison on the open air cardboard, then gently slided the glass over and the flea died after some more spectacular jumps. I hope we don’t forget to clean the glass. It was like a gas chamber for fleas. And this does not classify as cruelty against animals.
Living by lists
I am leaving again, unable to recall for you my deep depression, my search for lost youth in
clubbing life, the little blows life gives you, the sunny cold days of last week, the wellness in a cup of catus fig tea with honey. I am not making much sense. Most probably that goes for most everybody. The only thing that sets us apart from the others is the attitude. Now I am more Zen. I am not making as much sense as I’d want, but I am more relaxed about it.
Happy Halloween, everybody!
Ethan Hawke was here, as Desolation Angel puts it, so close to Transylvania. No pics with him. Too much fuss.
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