Ptitchitza u niskom letu

The Woods Are Lovely, Dark and Deep

but it was windy in Rotterdam today, very windy. De Maas was not its usual green, maar helemaal bruin.

I have to go to the Hague tomorrow, the city (what city? "Populated place!") so full of disappointments for me that it fills me with... unhappy feelings.

I wrote, like always when I feel fine, pages of shit, but I'll spare you for the day. Usually, tomorrow is another day, and usually I'm not and cannot feel as happy as the day before (if indeed I felt happy, like I have today). But, the 2nd letter to Maria, I wrote it twice, first in draft, then in a "proper" letter for her. The next day I think of the day before and the hapinness always seems so far away that I doubt my thoughts could not possibly be any good. I am wrong, more times than I'm not.

So, buenas noches & I write again tomorrow. I only have to go to the Hague to give my application for a new passport as a replacement for the one I've damaged in one of my irrational moods. And pay 110 euros. They are kind and professional in our Embassy.

Before that, I have to have new passport photos.

I haven't shaved since I haven't killed myself (almost a month ago), and vice versa: I haven't killed myself since I haven't shaved. I want to look on my new passport photo as unrecognisable in beard as I looked on the previous passport photo, from... when? 1994? Such a young fellow on that photo -- it's not me, for a long time now.

If you look like your passport photo it's usually said that you don't look well. I want to look much better than in my passport photo. I am a middle aged guy, after all.

Dear dr. Dorothy, thanks for e-mail(s). I didn't dare read them today, but will this week.

Not only don't I have a phone these days ('cause when it doesn't ring, I know it's Maria), but I don't even have a working clock at home.

What need do I have for one since I've become a professional bum?

Tot morgen. Ah, the terrible suspense... I know. "Instant gratification just takes too long!" (Carrie Fisher / Meryl Streep: Postcards from the Edge).