Solstice.

For the last four days I was on a regimen of antihistamines and pseudo-ephedrine. This seems to have done the trick, as I no longer feel like Arnie in that scene from Total Recall where he removes the tracker/bug via his nostril, whenever I step outside.

Well hello allergies!

I never could force myself and develop the habit of writing a diary. Going over the events of the day each and every day seems like such a nuisance. On the other hand, looking at the gaps, which sometimes stretch for entire weeks, between the written pages also irritates me to no end. In light of that the Leuchtturm five year memory book I got last x-mas seems like such a waste.

I dreamt I was at a Pink Floyd show in Szczecin. The venue was an indoor swimming pool shaped like an ancient, Greek amphitheater complex. We had shitty seats, and the sound was terrible. It was so terrible, that the show was canceled halfway, after Waters left the stage, cursing. Next thing i found myself eating burgers at a plastic table next to a burger van, alongside Waters and Brian May who had shown up inexplicably. We were taking turns, listening from a walkman to a supposedly unreleased album by Jim Morrison, that May had brought with him. All of us agreed that it was rather unremarkable.

The morning air was filled with sharp sunlight, birdsong and scents of wet earth. Promises of spring carried by a cold wind, that cut against bare skin.