this morning i was awaken by the sound of the alarm, a weekday classic. i tried to open my eyes and couldn't, so i went back to sleep in full trust that my alarm will go off again, 10 if not in 5 mins. all at the same time, i kept wondering if the sounds from the street have always been this loud, or did i sleep with my window open? as a matter of fact, yes.
so i kept silencing the alarm, and started to make calculations in my mind, like, what if i don't have breakfast today? it's the same old cheese and tomatoes anyway. no though, that would make things even harder. i should probably get up soon and eat less and be fast. no eggs. some bread and olive oil.
it's difficult to nurse a hangover. especially if it's your first hangover since forever.
what is it with last night's drinking? why such a good taste in my mouth? -though still desperate to go home and sleep-
i remember looking at,
2 bottles of wine
2 candles placed by two sides of the bottles, many on the side table
the bridge, ever-flowing cars,
the lights, the bosphorus,
some beautiful eyes, a beautiful greek girl, relaxed faces.
there was music, lots of it. there was singing.
oh and, the nargile, and generally inhaling everything that could possibly be inhaled.
"no malakas", though.
the small balcony-the old timber house-the pierre frey cushions
true, there are other things in life. but not many are this inspiring.
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