Pondering
Stefan Zweig. Looking for Notes from the Underground. Listening to Bill Fay. Surfing the Internet. Being annoyed by the washing machine. Trying to avoid doing the cleaning. Thinking I should write a Russian cookbook called Zakuski iz podpol'ia (Spas bolsh, Dezik). Drinking Staropramen. Shivering slightly. Putting the heating on. Friday night.
posted by lukeski at 9:35 pm
3 Comments:
That sounds like a lovely Friday night, in a way. Or was it lonely? Not solitary, as I'm assuming it would have been impossible for you to have managed to do all those things while managing to maintain social interaction with another human being. But were you, as you plodded through those actions/thoughts, thinking, throughout, "Fuck, I'm lonely." Or was it all fine?
Write the book today. Now. Закуски из подполья. The Russian can then translate it into Russian, under the snappy title, "Snyecks fryom ze andergryound." You'll be the Russian Jamie Oliver.
It was delightfully peaceful. A little bit of misery is to be encouraged, I think. And the Russian Jamie Oliver is an apt parallel, as my knowledge of the language is comparable to his command of English;)
When are you leaving for NZ, by the way?
Post a Comment
<< Home