reflections in wien

few words of late, playing catch up with wandering and sporadic wifi, suddenly lost in the speed of europe and silent in comparison to india. odd how alien you feel at points in your own continent...wonder how scotland will compare...

so mad dash to balaton for a few days, thunderstorms, return to wien, thunderstorm...an astounding one, possibly the wildest of the bunch and they have been trailing me since kashmir whilst i, in typical overreaction, have contemplated changing my name to thor...and why not...hmm, i lack a beard...well at least today i do...

and moved to my own flat, borrowed of course, but why not call it that? it sounds good, gives me a false aura of bohemia...bobo as they say here...out in the 16th district, so not so close to the city, outwith the guertel...interesting for someone with no sense of direction...

still getting used to the pace, indulging myself in the best work of scottish political satyre since lyndsey and the satyre of the thrie estates...bouncing through paine and attempting to write about kashmir...nicely relaxing...while putting off my quest for a water pistol...aye...hmm...and now sat in the museumqurtier, linked up to the free wifi, wondering what world class actually means in these days of cliche and superficial...

but the sun shines and i deserve an ice cream...only two weeks until the pause button is pushed, where next he wonders....adding the rest of your blips might be a good start sniggers a voice from the left shoulder...growl...the ravens are restless, 8stein never quite forgiven me for leaving the orchards of manali...

and so into further absurdity...