Cocktail hour
The road from Timisoara was hypnotic, up and down the hill, sun projecting the trees like steps into my tires’ way. For hours I literally felt like I had it all for myself. Or like I was in an American road movie. Candy frosting pink blue grey skies, heavy dark bitumen, a touch of mist in the hills and a kind sun doing us all one big favor. Too bad I cannot take pictures once I am behind the wheel. Craiova’s industrial park emerged like a transatlantic cruiser. In total opposition to the trip to Iasi and back, through a blinding sugar cotton fog. But in Iasi I smoked some shit and un-winded. Made the book I was planning to read into a Mos Nicolae present, and bought it back yesterday in Bucharest. I feel the end of the year approaching and that finally I am getting somewhere. Despite what many might thing I am getting closer and closer to a peace of mind. Bless you all.
Getting where? Towards the end? Of the year? Of the road trip? Of the path to self-fulfillment?
I hope you find indeed your peace of mind. Most of us don’t. We just get to the end.