well that didn’t take long

to get to missing Bucharest.

Knew I would. But tried to pretend I would not; tried to enlarge the loves of a future constructed in the head and yes in the clouds; love this area, always did; but there were always hindrances to the getting into all of it; more about the time, the time to be in it.. Miss all the hot chicks in bikinis. Miss the parks, terasas, the congested populace and the frenetic pace, and the chatter of the people. Miss grabbing a cold Ursus. Miss the noise. Miss the madness. Knew it was the home I always wished for.

But here we are here and we just have to do what we can to make the best due.

During our final days in Bucharest I kept reassuring the beloved half who is much better than me that we would indeed be back. We will. We will.

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
This entry was posted in bucharest, geography, the way I feel about it, thoughts, virginia. Bookmark the permalink.

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