I'm sitting in a hostel in Munich and I have less than five minutes of internet time left.
The obscurity of my situation - opposite side of globe, don't know what time it is back home, an empty checking account - is mighty powerful black magic against my state of mind.
Walking in circles around old cities, seeing the human creature poke its head out of history, feeling the experiment churn on under my feet, part of me, everyone, an equation of old statues, bronze becomes steel, mud becomes concrete, growing on forever.
Homesick fever dreams. Wonderful times, really, amazing, but no place like home.
Happy world. Lonely and OK world.
Out of time. Love you.