I love how the local German rock radio station is playing so much more of the Rolling Stones than that of the Beatles. "Stones are rock; the Beatles not", explained Spice. I am inclined to agree with her. Still, it makes me very happy.
"All substance is one to him who holds the key to the cosmos", he said cryptically. "To an adept nothing is immutable. At will, steel blossoms bloom in unnamed gardens, or flower-swords flash in the moonlight."
Robert E. Howard, Conan the Barbarian
I find myself in a state of morning tiredness. The cool air sharpens the senses. Against my hands, against my face.The light bicycle jacket should not yet be disregarded for the season.
Overcast. Cloudy. Stark Bewölkt?
The night has been short. My own fault, that. I now long to go back to bed and sleep some more. I imagine many people have a similar feeling in the morning.
Rain is promised.
No coffee for me, thank you.
That was yesterday. Today - heute - is a day without sock, yelling directed at me for something that is probably my mistake (I'm sorry, by the way), fresh sheets and a LANCER game in the late evening/early night. Oh, and double caffee latte was had along side a croissant baked good with chocolate in it for morning meal and liquid.
I will not be seen and I will not be heard. I am not invisible, I am ignored. I am not disresepcted, not understood, not taken seriously or accounted for. What I am, who I am - it matters not. A stranger in a strange land, unknown, unfamiliar, with rules and regulations unexplained, seemingly without sense or logic. It is not a wishful experience nor enjoyable existance.
The Nest in the Valley of the Blue Mountains is what I call the place I live, and hopefully will do so for many years to come. The owner is nice, the neighbors lovely, and it sits in a wonderful little village. The balcony view is gorgeous. Yet it is not quite a home.
I plan to make it a home. I plan to stay at the Nest in the Valley of the Blue Mountains.
