bits and pieces, 2

i live in the house

of famous serbian poet

one that died a bit over hundred years ago

and a bit before that

he wrote a poem

that many consider the best love poem ever written in our language

..

he wrote the famous poem

in this very house

i love to believe he wrote it in this room i call my own these days

..

it feels strange to live in his house

(ok, his wife's house, but it still feels strange)

this place should be a museum of some sort

not a temporary home of one rather strange group

of archaeologists and heavy drinkers

..

now, the house has nothing of the looks it once had

furniture is i believe from the 50's and 60's

almost nothing is authentic

but it still is fabulous

and light years away from the houses we usually stay in

while on excavations

..

sorry for the lack of posts

i'm too tired and feeling slightly blue lately

(being almost 5 months away from my other self)

not in the mood to take pictures 

not in the mood to do much at all

..

luckily, there is gin tonic in my near future

..

mokosha