Awaiting a real winter or maybe spring, I find it hard to tell the days apart and all I feel like is sleep under the covers. Work has been scarce up until now, but by next week I’ll be back on track and that’ll at least take my mind off the winter blues. I could pack a suitcase and run away with my love to Cuba, where a fellow blogger just spent what seem to have been glorious days.
It´s refreshing to be back in Bucharest, where most of my family and friends live, I let myself be dragged into its moist grip, I venture in it like in the arms of a lover.
As I do it, I´m trying to get a grasp of myself in the mirrors of the city. I sometimes catch a glimpse of my old self, familiar gestures go through me with the violence of an ambush. I go to the same places and although they smell the same, they bring me in a slight state of faint.