2015-11-26

Towards aphelion

I'm on a bus speeding on the autobahn from Hamburg through the rainy November night. Red taillights glimmer against droplets of water regularly whisked away by the windshield wipers. Not much else is visible. Shapes materializing from the inky blackness only to be swallowed by it moments later. Transient and ethereal.
We were eating excellent phở only a couple hours earlier in this Vietnamese place, I think it was somewhere in the Altstadt. A warm meal, company, conversation - no matter how trite, the din of other patrons, are always a welcome distraction. A whole weekend even more so.
It's two days later. I'm at home, listenning to Fennesz and Sakamoto, cooking and trying to blot out the sad realites oozing from the news outlets. I think it stopped raining. I don't know and I don't really want to check. Daylight is gradually becoming a scarce resource. Sunlight even more so. Sanity is near the red line as well it seems, at least as far as this country goes. I have less and less I want to say. I need custom tailored geographies.

2 comments:

  1. I'm sure there's a large market for those. Something along custom jurisdictions, alike Jesuits in Czarne Oceany, if I remember correctly. I'm also having trouble imagining how bad the transitory period would be.

    Then again, we already have those. Monaco. Jersey, Guernsey, seems like most of them are kind-of-but-not exactly offspring of the glorious UK.

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  2. I've been here. I've read it.

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