They are my discovery at the festival. Well, Foolea has played their song to me once, but ever since forgot to send me the tracks. Back to IAMX, they really knew how to make the crowd jump to the sound of their President, Nightlife, The Negative Sex and the likes. Excellent concert, excellent sound, excellent atmosphere, I predict main stage by next edition. (Picture might well be Foolea’s)
On this occasion, I did Cesaria Evora, IAMX, Transe Express (theater performance), Accrorap (dance performance), Gogol Bordello, Fanfara Ciocarlia, Pink, Emilie Simon, The Hives, Babylon Circus, Razorlight, Sinead O’Connor, Faithless, Eagles of Death Metal, Juliette and the Licks, The Killers. Next: the respective shitty pictures taken with small digital cameras from usually a large distance.
Like
the ancient philosopher, I believe we ourselves are not the same, in time, even if the same person. Furthermore, even if we go to the same place, it’s a different place, depending on who sees it. Differences keep up with the fluidity of time and perception. but anyways, since so many have asked, and I have given so little, I am going to give you brief accounts of my Sziget. I guess it’s going to be a series. So check out the new labels: Sziget pic and my Sziget.
In the meanwhile, back at the ranch, my Sziget was getting six paper daily wristbands, sleeping in a tent, sleeping too little by my standards, sleeping with head an idea lower than the rest of my body and legs, sleeping to the sound of loud drunken French campers, swearing in French at French campers, drinking beer as early as 10 am, occasionally smoking (yeap, that! what did you think?), queuing for the morning numbers (number one and number two), queuing for brushing my teeth, queuing for coffee, queuing for shower, showering every other day, drinking beer as a past time while queuing at the shower, mud and dust, the feeling of Costinesti crowds of the 90s without the manele sound, occasional need for silence (that’s a tip for the organizers next year, a silence tent, I bet it will be very successful, the closest thing to it this year was the ambient tent), Magic Mirror, wrestling with little digital cameras I had borrowed only to get some shitty pictures, and the concerts. Oh, the feeling “There is a God”, when I arrived in my Budapest hotel after the one week plus, showered and slept in a proper bed for four hours mid day on the sound of BBC news, before going out to have dinner with friends in a proper restaurant where service was even greater than the coolness of the sexy waiters (yeah, I’ve got an obsession with that!).
LATER edit: with the help of Gramo, I have managed to identify the correct philosopher. Thank you, guys. Also, the two links, http://www.iep.utm.edu/h/heraclit.htm and http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/heraclitus/
It’a a love and hate relationship, only without the love part.
The problem with the word homosexual is it contains sex in it, making it perceivable as a constant sexual threat too. Sex is acceptable, but no one wants to have it at all times in the face. I kinda hope I have managed to explain my thoughts, finally, on camera, during the second interview I had for this documentary on gay life in nowadays Romania some of my American friends are currently shooting.
A threat is a threat is a threat, all the more reason for non-combatant me to be very careful in revealing my crushes for straight guys. Oh, yes, these existed, what did you thinK? And no, I don’t have a crush on every guy, straight or gay, rest assured. Although I am sure, as always, there are a couple of people I know, they would advise otherwise… Well, my back muscle hurts so bad I cannot make it out of the house for the moment, so what better past time than blogging and thinking about guys I have spotted recently?!
That stands for “Honey, Danny”, and “Kisses, Danny” (Puszi).
Why am I ready to reconsider my Hungarian heritage? Apart from the obvious reasons, like my father being a Hungarian, well it’s these last visits to Budapest, where the city is breathable, has bicycle lanes, the people are clean, polite, and trendy, the service starts with a smile and continues with “Is everything OK?”, and the roads and sidewalks don’t have the wholes the size of a broken leg, the one thousand and one cafes are cool, and the waiters have designer haircuts and bodies to die for.
So I promise better accounts my past two weeks. First I have to clean a bit the pigsties my residence has gradually turn into during my repeated absences.
Yeah, Budapest is really bad for my credit card. Sales, again. Where better to blog about this than West End City mall? With Hungarian keyboard. I am almost ready to go out tonight.
Regards to everybody and I’ll be back in no time.
Happily reporting from Otopeni, on my way to the island of music. It’s been quite a hectic endeavor so far. managed to do pretty much everything on my to do list, the rest will be fixed by a couple of calls later. I don’t have Vava’s cam, I have Mazi’s. I don’t have batteries, so we’ll see about the pictures. Last time the camera played tricks on me because of the batteries.
So, I woke up, not feeling rested nor 100% up to it, missing a piece of luggage, now I have a monster one. It contains my tent, mattress and sleeping bag, among other personal items under the same “roof”. So I started to score and check one thing after the other on my list, and one moment I was thinking I cannot possibly make it, the other, oh yeah sure I will. I included here the daily internet procrastination, no coffee mug this time.
The house was left devastated… not a nice place to return as such, but I will have to do something about that as I am due another interview on Sunday. At home this time, the other was in the office.
A last word of warning, never say never. Just when I was releasing a sigh “Finally I am on my way to the airport, and I should make it in time”, somebody’s car had a minor explosion. For a couple of seconds I saw myself running to railway station… Again, not really up to it.
Low cost is low cost, a check-in was a min-nightmare, but I am really on my way to the departure gate, so what can stop me now? I don’t remember where my anti-fever pills are, so maybe a sneaky virus. Hope not.
Finally, within the entire madness, T has sent the sweetest sms “Drive carefully”. Well, I didn’t have to. I miss you, and maybe my flight too if I linger long enough.
Zbyes!
This blogger is taking
another break.
But before that, if you are gay, Romanian, probably out, or just willing to give your account of the gay life, learn that an American friend of mine is producing a documentary. Would you be available for an interview, just send me a message at monsoux at gmail dot com.
Until the next time.
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