London, my Love

17523034_285335808562571_832689199404757514_nI think we need to spread love as much as we can. And today I’m very much in love with LONDON. A couple of weeks ago, I introduced the city to my cousin & her husband, & was very disappointed they felt indifferent about my lover. For days I thought, that I might be deluded, that all this love affair isn’t real & it’s all in my head. But today, today London spoke to me in the sweetest language ever known. We took a slow walk along the south side of the river, we listened to St Paul’s Cathedral bells watching boats ploughing through the water. Then he took me for a long walk through resting Borough Market, across London Bridge, I asked him to wait whiles I took a photo of majestic Tower Bridge. He said I act like a tourist.

We walked through oh so busy Liverpool Street and said hello the new office, I will soon start a new position and continued to the Old Spitalfields Market, down the Brick Lane, where a dude that looked like Jimi Hendrix played Hey Joe.

I took a short video of a man dressed half pirate, half old lady in a blond wig, he rode something that looked like skate, then stopped to chat to a salesman and said: I dress, so people see me, otherwise they act like I’m invisible. He has a point, – said London. You are home for all freaks, – I teased him. Including you, – he noted.

We floated down Columbian Road like Ophelia in the sea of people surrounded by flowers and were brought back to life by a cup of flat white. The queue was long but we enjoyed standing there listening to a girl playing Kate Bush Running Up That Hill.

And when we walked down the Broadway Market — a cup of coffee in one hand and flowers in the other — watching people sitting outside having brunch, thinking this day can not get any better. A Spanish born artist caught us by the hand and dragged into his pop up project space. What is this? – I asked. He said: We want to capture the face of London. I don’t look my best, – I said, – but I got flowers. Let’s do this!

And he sat us into this 1970s photo booth and we took a selfie. Here it is, I’m not sure if you can see him, but London is right behind me.

Postcard Karma

What goes around comes around in a form of postcard. Dedicated for those who send and receive love.

First Love

  • You know, it’s hard to begin…
  • Then what for?
  • Sometimes I even forget I ever wrote a word… and then someone reminds me, as if writing is my ex, „…so, still writing? How is writing?“ they ask. And I get the same rush, and I blush thinking that Writing and my-self were a good match, I remember all the crazy things we did together…. and then, I admit in shaky voice that, I still think about it from time to time, however…
  • However?
  • … I remain mute, fearing that if we meet face to face, I will have nothing to say.


Finally he opened up. Told me everything about his childhood, about his sister Maria, about his despot father, about his first cigarette, about bull fights, about his first love and a guy, whom he fucked in college, about Segovia, architectural studies, about his first fight, about his first year in London and that he had to escort to survive, about elder women who’s pussies he had to lick, about constructors role at Harrods, about trips to Europe and etc. Continue reading Solitude


You know what‘s annoying me in human relationship? – I ask spinning the spoon in the cup full of coffee.

  • Go on, – you throw a few words in whiles I‘m putting together a fluent sentence.
  • Dishonesty, – I neglect the philosophy and cut straight to the point afraid my coffee will cool off.
  • What about it? – You pause When Harry Met Sally and put one of the cigarettes spread on the table into your mouth.
  • What happened to them?
  • Got wet, – you give a short reply and click the lighter.
  • Hmm, – I sip coffee, you paused right on the bit where Meg Ryan is faking an orgasm, – You don’t really know the person until/…
  • …/you’ve slept with her? – You blow the smoke out.
  • Could I finish?
  • I have a feeling we won’t be watching the movie tonight.
  • If you just let me finish/…
  • …/it’s always the same shit. Why do we always end up fulfilling your needs and never mine?
  • Alright, you win, let’s do what you wanna do/… – I press the play and leave the room.
  • …/but you will have to do it alone, – you stop the movie, – could you grab a beer?!
  • You have two feet – go and get it your-self, – I declare putting shoes on.
  • Where are you going, this is your house?
  • I need some fresh air.
  • Mind if I join you?
  • Feel free, – it’s impossible to get mad at you.

Continue reading Dishonesty