Amsterdam

The sun is shining, the birds are singing and people are ambling. The city is laid back, kinda scruffy with smile wrinkles. Amsterdam for me feels like the exhibitionist and bohemian aunt that the rest of the family disapproves of but that you secretly adore.



Space cookies. They are deceptively tasty and take a few hours to kick in.
And then suddenly every moment lasts an eternity and the present feels as
though it's a memory while you're experiencing it and anything that's
outside of your field of vision (which seems to be tunnel vision -- no
periphery whatsoever) doesn't exist and you're aware of action happening but
you don't experience it you can only remember it. What kind of idiot eats a
space cookie hours before having to take a train to Copenhagen and change
trains midway in Duisberg so that the entire experience is an eternity of
uncertainty of ever reaching her destination? Well, natch.

So, obviously I'm not stoned anymore, because there's no way I would be able
to string together a coherent sentence, let alone type it, if I were. It
felt like a fucking miracle to wake up yesterday and not only be in control
of my mental faculties, but also to be on the right train.