last we spoke was sometime in mid-april. days lost and weekends past. i've been to three countries since then, on holidays and day-trips, weekend getaways and jaunts [slovakia, czech republic, germany]
from budapest.
some call it escape but the itch in my feet is insatiable.
[not] quenched or satisfied
i'm onto slovenia next week for a few day tour of the capital and some village towns.
after that a weekend in vienna. will this ever end? will i ever go
away from budapest.
soon or later. sooner than later? in the mean time i enjoy the warm saturday afternoons, brisk winds and lazy morning bike rides on my way to the office. life doesn't feel so serious these days, which is the best possible feeling.
listening to inara george on repeat.
flying away like this swallow, caught in my frame [always by accident].
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