I feel like
Wake up, drink coffee, go back to sleep. That’s one f*ck3d cycle! I am past the first two stages.
Entries Tagged as 'Budapest'
1001 ways to lay
Lay, linger, and lie down. This is what I have been doing for most part yesterday. In various positions, in various locations.
The day started to pick up on the tempo once I went to the Tarot Labyrinth. Long line, worth the while. The only concert we have planned for was Jambalaya. But for lack of anything better to do, we had to listen to Olveti BB. It would not end. Plus the guy did not have a voice. It was painful like an orgasm that does not come. The kind of band who enjoys playing, but should do it at home, for friends. Jambalaya, instead, was everything and more. They are Hungarian, but I suspect they were from New Orleans in previous life. Very very good. Then it was Mory Kante, with his Yeke Yeke anniversary tour, and the Roma tent with French Roma craziness, the good kind. Unfortunately we could not attend to the very end to either, because we had other plans. And these eight wonders of the world are from Belgium: Compagnie Thor d’Orient. A dance I am glad I have not missed. Manly, erotic, and homosexual. Beautifully choreographed, extraordinary lit, well staged, it was a joy to the senses. When it was over I felt I can go to bed without regrets. I have seen a true performance.
Again my minutes are up, I have not checked my messages, and, you guessed it, I am at a Hungarian keyboard. See you tomorrow. Roisin Murphy, Serj Tankian, Enzo Avitabile and Bottari, and REM are waiting.
Nuances
It’s “so far, so good”, instead of “sooo good, so far”. There are a lot of reasons for that. Like the fact the one of the guard monkeys grabbed my arm. I say learn English, learn some manners, then get paid to be a bodyguard. Anyways, nothing serious. Some of the festival staff is really good and effective. Like the guy who apologized for the guard.
So that would explain why I have started drinking beer as early as ten something in the morning. Or wouldn’t it?
Can I complain about the dust. About the little motorinoes? They are everywhere, inserting themselves in every little space available. I am talking both about the dust and the little motor bikes. Since there is nothing much I can do about the dust, I thought of just pushing the riders as they pass me by. Criminal instinct, huh?
So yesterday was the first busy day. Kaiser Chiefs made my day. “That’s a nice one, BUCHAREST”. The Romanian crowd was ecstatic. The Hungarians were like “What was that? Neah”. So that was the highlight of a day that included, dozing in the ambient tent, excellent music and sound, a indie-underground American movie and a discussion with it’s director in the Magic Mirror, The graffiti artist - don’t bother unless you don’t have anything else better, the quite electric Fanfara Tirana, and the funny Finish unpronounceable Alamaailman Vasarat, a bit hard to digest in terms of music, but very humorous intros to their pieces, Kaiser Chiefs as you know them, Jamiroquai impaired by their own live sound, so we moved next door to Bob Marley’s son. You remember the cute little Ky-Mani? He is all grown up now.
The cherry on the pie was Szivkov Aleksszandr 6 minute dance. Great, entertaining, well-done, perfect moves and his body is a bonus. On the same occasion we watched another performance, that made us want to leave the room and move forward. Some tunisian guy, speaking French, of course, using a wheel chair. The dancing was good, but the piece was all together too long and “artistic”. We ended the night in a jazz note. Rhoda Scott is an American artist that plays an instrument that’s a cross between a piano and an organ and she does it with all her soul. Plus she had help from this incredible drum player. Makes me wanna be like that when I am older.
My twenty minutes are almost up. See you soon.
LATER EDIT: Thanks to Hotnews for linking me.
So far
So good. The first night somebody peed on our tent. The second night somebody slept on our tent, passed out completely. It is full of weirdos, nice display of tattoos so far. MGMT performance was nice, I think they are going to do great, although the voice needs growing. Internet is free in batches of 20 minutes, but the line can be somewhat of a discouragement. I cannot find all the signs on the Hungarian keyboard. Hence I write it is, not its shorter version. The coffee people have constantly taken me for a fool, charging me extra. Their loss. See you soon.
Going to, leaving, left
This blogger is going to sleep first, then to Sziget.
See you all later. I so deserve a vacation.
Goldfish moments
I know my weaknesses and strengths. I try to turn the first into the later. For instance, my buffer memory has a very limited attention span.
He’s dying, I’m wanking, it’s a mess
I have spent a while until I decided upon this picture, that goes with the quote above. I am hiding behind Maggie’s and my own words.
What has the Japanese car taught me? “Patience, we don’t want you to scratch me now.” What? I talk to my car, doesn’t everybody?
LATER EDIT: The car is scratched. Oh well.
The new me
The new me is pretty similar to the old me: new boyfriend, new car, new project, limited income, unlimited spending powers. A sort of private super antihero.
Rose
As I remember, Rose was beautiful as she could only be, but she might as well could’ve sported a fair warning “Thorns included”.
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