i'm back from the seaside. i got more than the mind cleansing lolling i'd bargained for, yet i don't have much to say. even typing feels strange. i'm like a little alien dropped here accidentally. bucharest, my neighbourhood, my room - all that makes up this manhole that has kept me boxed for a bitter long year now looks different, new, beautiful. it's a matter of time till my compulsions resume chewing me up. i've already abused my mp3 player and the swinger and i'm blogging. but tonight i'm off to my bf's for some sandless fun and tomorrow i'm leaving town again. you know, i shun fancy things like electricity.
upon the jagged shore
beneath the burning sun
we spend ourselves intending many puns