Vigilia di Natale, un giorno come gli altri. Well, Season’s Greeting from the Czech Republic. I’m home for Christmas, which is great. But well, fuck me (that’s a figure of speech, I perfected my english on a broking desk, so you’ll have to pardon my french. English, that is) can I seriously be laying in my bed two days before Xmas listening to Carmen Consoli? That’s probably a bad sign. Whatever.
So. Three days before Christmas. I could only produce two half decent photos of Prague (above and below). I guess it’s even natural. If you know something too well, you cannot not see it perfect, as a postcard. And you can hardly come up with an innovative approach. Well, you might even be able to, I’m certainly not.
One day before Christmas (eve). A trip to Dresden. Bloody Germans. This side of the border, weather’s disgusting. It’s like I never left the UK. I can hardly see the other side of the road, go over the hills to Germany and it’s suddenly warm and sunny. Damn. We should have insisted on pushing the border a bit further north in the ’45. (Disclaimer: anything that seems politically incorrect was probably written while the author was not in full control of her mental abilities. In other words pissed.)
I will keep this short tonight. Which is probably the best thing to do given my state of mind.
I wish you all a serene Christmas. I don’t care if you’re merry, I don’t care if you’ve spent thousands in any given currency (unless it’s italian Lira) on your Xmas shopping, I don’t care if you’ve baked 30 kinds of Xmas biscuits and cleaned your house spotless. I dont care and you should not either. That’s not the point. If you can look around you and be peaceful, with people you want to be, you’re privileged. Nothing else counts.
Kacenka on the road 