I woke up, I ate kinda post

I stopped counting how many things have happened since I have also stopped taking my blog seriously on a dayly basis. Maybe not that many.

But I am willing to offer a selection.

I am back from Gdansk. Mazi's cam defected on me. I love English false friends.

I am yet to loose another hour. No, really, another hour: to fix all my watches.

I didn't make it between the covers of clubbing mag. Not in a visible manner that is. Try page 30, if you can spot me. No prize to be awarded if you do.

I have been to Rokolectiv 07 last night. First, dinner with the eyelash man. Vegetarian?! Me?! I would've never thought. But the couscous and fried vegetables were good. So was the wine. And the beer. And the gossip. And the auberge a l'espagnol roommates coming in and out.

The yes-but-I-am-not-gay guy made a guest appearance last night. We danced. Somebody whispered into my ear "Kiss him!". I smiled. Haven't called him yet.

I have saved my life with juice a friend left in my fridge. Arina, I love you. It was like this: open fridge door, admire silence and emptyness. Then, hello! what is this? And how has it ended here? It was the juice box. I couldn't remember how it got there, but thirst was stronger than common sense.

Gdansk on the rain was walked by me on the sound of Lhasa, I have doubled the number of bacteria in my ears. Apparently that's what you do if you plug your earphones in. The old city (Stare Miesto) is amazing. Unfortunately you'll have to take my word for it. Or try some of the mobile phone cam pics. I have regreted not having an operable camera. The swans were gulible. They followed me in hope of some crums I did not have. The smartest of them was using the wings as a sail, mocking the rest of the flock, which was conservatively paddling their way on the water.

Je n'ai pas peur
De dire que je t'ai trahi
Par pure paresse
Par pure mélancolie
Qu'entre toi
Et le Diable
J'ai choisi le plus
Confortable
Mais tout cela
N'est pas pourquoi
Je me sens coupable
Mon cher ami

Je n'ai pas peur de dire
Que tu me fais peur
Avec ton espoir
Et ton grand sens
De l'honneur
Tu me donnes envie
De tout détruire
De t'arracher
Le beau sourire
Et meme ca
N'est pas pourquoi
Je me sens coupable
C'est ca le pire

Je me sens coupable
Parce que j'ai l'habitude
C'est la seule chose
Que je peux faire
Avec une certaine
Certitude
C'est rassurant
De penser
Que je suis sûre
De ne pas me tromper
Quand il s'agit
De la question
De ma grande culpabilité

Je n'ai pas peur
De dire que j'ai triché
J'ai mis les plus pures
De mes pensées
Sur le marché
J'ai envie de laisser tomber
Toute cette idée
De "vérité"
Je garderais
Pour me guider
Plaisir et culpabilité

Je me sens coupable
Parce que j'ai l'habitude
C'est la seule chose
Que je peux faire
Avec une certaine
Certitude
C'est rassurant
De penser
Que je suis sûre
De ne pas me tromper
Quand il s'agit
De la question
De ma grande culpabilité

Lhasa, La confession