I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING SIGNIFICANT...

I want to write something significant, but cannot find a subject. About art I don’t want to write; all those who should die or in any case should be forbidden to never ever touch the brush again, why I am the only one who can safe the world, what a difference will it make… 

Shall I pour myself another beer? I did not want to drink wine and stick to my promise. But such a half empty feeling evening, it is not my cup of tea.

I did not paint, that is a miss, otherwise I would not have had the desire to be a joker. After a good days work I might have spent the evening in a heavenly nothing mood.

If I had produced something good, I could have bought a bottle of red to celebrate. And the next morning to find out, with a misty feeling in the head, to actually have produced crap.

I could attach a button to a shirt, fold the clean clothes, but for this I feel far to sloppy. A card game is not a good escape either, boring…

Maybe watch the cats, they are quite exited, the loud music of Queen inspires them.

A solution could be to take a walk with my loved one, only I don’t have a loved one. And if I’d have one, me as a company she’d understandably refuse. I am not a real pleasure to walk and talk with.

The problem of all this may have been that the day got into a cul-de-sac too early. I guided a very well prepared and lovely family through town, finishing it off with a far too heavy lunch. Today the weather is great and then one should not choose the winter dishes from the daily menu. My strategy was that like that, I didn’t need to eat in the evening; the result was all but satisfying.

Fortunately there is still an overcooked rest of the day before yesterday in the fridge.

Result of the meal was that I had to take a siesta. I, being smart, took a shower, but the feeling was even after that not tip-top.

The only good thing I did, was that I helped friends to buy a first aid case of paint and some canvasses, so they can creatively make them dirty. Now the remains of the day are left too infertile for any great deeds.

Here I am staring at the digital nothing…

All comes down to find the right measure and stick to it.

This text I found on my desktop. It is my contribution to the day of roses and words of Catalunya. Might be a dragon of a text...

(for explanation: https://www.spain.info/en/discover-spain/fiesta-sant-jordi-barcelona/)

Barcelona, April 23, 2018.