thirteen minutes to get it out, go. either you walk through the world and hand out knives because nothing can hurt you anymore because you've moved into the perfect white between, or you walk through the world shielded and afraid, or you stay inside and hide behind the glass because it's too scary on the other side. your choices are fierce or cowering or hidden. you cannot go out and only deal with people who do not frighten you so the choice is go out and be strong or go out and be hurt or stay in. you cannot selectively hold your heart in your hand on your sleeve please look at it pulsing and pretty and then somebody gives it a poke and you say they had no right. you cannot claim the privilege of offering it without claiming the responsibility for the damage and what do you care what they say about your heart, your bloody sleeve, your pitiful open hands, what you got that's so precious anyway, precious sweet it ain't like it's a ring somebody's gonna steal from you am i right. you cannot continue to alternately hand the knives to the people who stab you and then send morse code to the people across the street with your window blinds: see me. it seems to me like you have to make a choice. it seems to me like you're in or out. it seems to me like the stakes being high is what makes the game worth playing but it seems to me you could choose how high and give yourself a little room to twist free. don't start with me with your invisible options. don't ask if you could maybe go out and leave your heart at home. don't talk about going to the casino if you don't want to gamble. stop gambling what you're afraid of losing is all. take your heart with you and don't put it on the baize, somehow. or stay home. what do i know.
I am recycling an old idea I once had about visiting all the restaurants that have their menus in English and offering to edit the menus in exchange for a few free meals.
Something's gotta happen. I mean, this can't keep up, right? But I'm sitting here thinking that when I came here it was 32 kc to the dollar and 8 Kc for a beer, and I was making Czech crowns and paying off dollar debts; now it's 14.5 Kc to the dollar and at least 25 Kc for a beer, and I'm making dollars, and I can't even begin to explain how incapable I am of writing math problems sufficiently intricate to reflect my frustration with this particular state of affairs.
I think I could probably do something with this, though. Do you think they'd feed me? Better yet, would I get some free beer out of it? Right before my eyeses?
Greece persists in being very hot and beautiful. We saw giant turtles
being chased like they were starlets without panties. We played games
until we had adopted each other's playing style. We stayed in the water
until we got burn lines where the salt had buoyed us up; water lines
are the new bathing suit lines. We ate feta a hundred different ways,
including on fire; elopement with various dishes was proposed and then
of course I had to bring in the possibility of spouse-swapping down the
road to keep things interesting and then there was that awkward silence
like when you realize you're the last guest at the party. We observed
all manner of dress and undress. It is hard to be a parent and persuade
your child of the virtues of
dressing for dinner when the woman next to you is wearing a hotel
towel. We had garbage thrown at us while we were collecting trash on
the beach (to compensate for being human, but then maybe we aren't the
humans you need to watch out for). The things people will leave on a
beach would not amaze you. I fell off of a raft because everybody likes
to see a pratfall. We finished reading Tom Sawyer and had to get a book
on Greek myths to determine how many pomegranate seeds Persephone ate.
I won every game except the ones I lost. It is possible that between us
we caught a frisbee more than twice. We explored the uses of yogurt and
aloe vera and finally slept until it didn't hurt anymore. Then we came home. Pictures start here.