It was a mistake trying to catch up on all those months. Filling the gaps with words of vague nature and nothing much to say. But we did meet and that’s the story. There’s more to come but perhaps at a later time. This season is full of changes; full of everything. Suddenly, I won’t live alone anymore. At least for a while. My days in Prague are numbered. Each day gets its own stamp; at arrival, at departure. I try to notice the little things, the beauty around me. When it’s sunny, I feel a little more grateful. Gratitude. What does it mean to you?
Malkovich Bar last night. It’s right next to Bukowski’s. I sat with B. over a few glasses of wine, the night fell around us, and I realized (once again) that I lack the discipline to write. I always have. Disappointment and fury settled somewhere at the pit of my stomach and I wished for a change. Things are changing around me, I am changing. It shouldn’t be so hard doing the thing that makes feel like myself. What does that even mean? Empty words. But I decided to start again. Afresh, and by hand, mostly. Day one, or one day. It’s a choice.
And I’ve made my decision.