(no subject)
i wake up in a 17th century hotel only to walk out side on cobble stone streets with horses carrages rats and dressed characters. at night we throw shodows on the wall of a castel and imagine storming it. i fly kites all hours of the day and night and smoke bowls over looking the fort. i walk past a cemetary about ever 2 blocks and today is a gerogous day. we sent off a boat which was soon beached then sunk beyond repair, we even sipped beer out of home made cups (although foamy it was amusing). we then flew airplanes off a shop roof into stGeorgeSt and climed a partial boat, to sip wiskey and be in good company. every night the sky has a different appeal to it and the air has a irie chill, but wtf i live in a fairy tale.