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10/07/2018
Torfdoen
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Torfdoen
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8
Not a day wasted
Small, yellow lemon rays hit my nose, tickle and poke with slightly green spades, peel from a stream of marzipan-like viscosity that leads me into the bathroom. I look at myself benevolently in the mirror and take a sip of Pina Colada, surprisingly ready on the chest of drawers. Herbs and woods, thickly wrapped in a vanilla-amber wrapping, develop their full-bodied aroma, refresh, but only as much as is not detrimental to the cosiness. Could it be that a pear got lost in the cocktail? Definitely a great idea to turn this off. I let hot water into the sink. The whirling beard shavings in the soapy water could convey signs of dignified masculinity, but this is immediately absorbed by gentle, slightly smoky steams from the cocktail glass. From this it is necessary to take another sip, in order to leave the day further its wonderfully lemony-birny seediness. The shave also progresses like a canapé. There's hardly anything left to see in the haze. It doesn't matter, the magic potion is almost spooned. Foam caramelised at the bottom, herb residues, fir needles.
I get a little sleepy from all the impressions and it seems to me the best not to frighten the beauty of the day with any activity, but to capture its energy with extended relaxation on the beach or in a Sicilian coastal village.
A rose-cut flower arrangement is said to have been delivered to the windowsill for me. Anyway, it goes back into the box, the midday sun is golden in the sky and warms the cobbled alleys, reflected in the turquoise of the Ionian Sea. And you notice quite clearly what decade you are in right now. But here it also fits, the beautiful life, which alone becomes eager, when the longing for romance drives it to it, otherwise glides away in all tranquility. Past times, to which one can devote a few intensive hours
I get a little sleepy from all the impressions and it seems to me the best not to frighten the beauty of the day with any activity, but to capture its energy with extended relaxation on the beach or in a Sicilian coastal village.
A rose-cut flower arrangement is said to have been delivered to the windowsill for me. Anyway, it goes back into the box, the midday sun is golden in the sky and warms the cobbled alleys, reflected in the turquoise of the Ionian Sea. And you notice quite clearly what decade you are in right now. But here it also fits, the beautiful life, which alone becomes eager, when the longing for romance drives it to it, otherwise glides away in all tranquility. Past times, to which one can devote a few intensive hours
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Charilaos77
