Down, down, down. The Ring Of Fire.

Such is the tradition of entering a new land, those who are first to arrive seem to destroy whatever they want. Which is why last night we had an impromptu, messy but altogether awesome bonfire. I fear for the park wardens who climbed up the Philosophenweg mountain to find a field littered with bottles, cans, cardboard boxes and the remnants of someone else having a wonderful time that they had to clean up.

At this time, I hasted to add I was merely an attendee, I had little to nothing to do with the organisation of said event. So… point your blame somewhere else, please? Please? No? Well, ok, fine, I accept your blame, hypothetical reader.

In other news, I have put the novel on hold, creativity has struck on an old project, and hopefully such a public announcement won’t act as a curse but we shall see. The novel will continue to be written, but when all the melodramatic research and panics of writer’s block take hold, I’ll indulge in the short story; “My Messy Friend” a Tom’s Midnight Garden sort of fiction that hopefully I won’t find too confusing.

For now however, I am off to an Irish Pub to watch an English football game. But first, there is a German student downstairs playing Johnny Cash, I need to go so I can shake his hand.


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