Last month. Not centuries ago, but only last month I was someplace where the sun hit the sky (Supergrass, anyone?!) - with "mere" +38C in the shade. Madness. But also surreal now that I am here in autumn darkness. Okay, so officially it's not autumn; but unofficially - like, it's +14C and rainy in Tallinn. Ah, all the comfort I take in complaining about the weather. Don't try to reason with me here, it's a ritual.
Oh, Firenze, you tourist packed sweaty beast. Now amidst autumn winds all I wanna do is indulge in old(er) art. I wanna eat pizza and judge all the super rich tourists queuing at fancy stores. And maybe add a tacky figurine or two to my altar. (no, there's nothing to see here, what altar?!)
And you know there used to be those times when I thought that all those old time-y sculptures are drama much, like please, get a break. However, nowadays they feel so relatable and comforting. They're my hygge. (all cool, nothing to see here)
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