Sheltering Sky
"He did not think of himself as a tourist; he was a traveller. The difference is partly one of time, he would explain. Whereas the tourist generally hurries back home at the end of a few weeks or months, the traveller, belonging no more to one place than to the next, moves slowly, during periods of years, from one part of the earth to another. Indeed, he would have found it difficult to tell, among the many places he had lived, precisely where it was he had felt most at home". PAUL BOWLES
The flat gets too dark too soon in winter. I have to go to IKEA. Tomorrow. There are no cheap lamps in Mitte. Yesterday evening, birthday dinner. Hadas’ friends. Mostly Israelis. Musicians. Good humus. Talked to an Israeli-Belarusian girl who spoke Spanish. Talked to a Turkish girl who thinks Turkey 
We brought Spanish wine and chocolate. There were Hebrew songs. This week I got some new music from Iñaki. “Send me new music,” I said when we talked on the phone a week ago. Two CDs and a lot of new stuff in MP3, Iñaki sent. I’m having problems with Sweet Jane though. It takes ages to load. I think is the fucking laptop. Too old. I need a new one. More money. Is it really winter? Hard to say.
We brought Spanish wine and chocolate. There were Hebrew songs. This week I got some new music from Iñaki. “Send me new music,” I said when we talked on the phone a week ago. Two CDs and a lot of new stuff in MP3, Iñaki sent. I’m having problems with Sweet Jane though. It takes ages to load. I think is the fucking laptop. Too old. I need a new one. More money. Is it really winter? Hard to say.
previous posts
the place where I come from: older posts
- August 2005
- September 2005
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- November 2005
- December 2005
- January 2006
- February 2006
- March 2006
- April 2006
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- October 2006
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- August 2009