Londinium MMXXII

Gül Baba

Aug 26, 2026

Rózsadomb, 25 11 2023

Last day in Budapest, I’m looking out of the tall window of my airbnb, the sun is glazing the orange building opposite, and the clear blue sky is expanding above the roof. It is the end of November, but sunny and warm, at least inside, like on a September day. I cannot get over how airy, open, spacious, bright and dry the old flats here and in Vienna feel! It is such a mindfuck to go back to a dark and dreary place that probably costs twice the rent. Anyway…. I can’t stay here.

Back to last Wednesday. Paul picked me up at Meidling station, with a bright smile and gorgeous looking as ever. Again, the first few words, at least from my side, were a bit woody and stiff, but we soon got into cute conversations, gossip and laughter. He is in a good place, it seems, and was genuinely happy to see me. I miss him, and our bumming around back in the days.

We both have a bit of Peter Pan Syndrome, wanting to be twinks forever. Although he has grown into a strong, masculine body and face.

We went to a new venue, Gleisgarten, which was cool and hip. The hours flew and soon I had to head back to Sepp, as I kinda double booked the evening. Anyway, it was so good to see Paul, and exchange stories but also realizations we gained as we got older. He is dating someone, but still, keeping it casual as per usual. I think he is a bit like the version of me that I am suppressing sometimes. Unapologetically self contained and solitary.

At home with Sepp, he cooked clumsily but I enjoyed the night in, and after another few hours of chatting and pouring my heart out about my experience with grandpa earlier, we went to bed. That night I didn’t sleep that well, having dreams and a raised heart rate. All the events of the week, plus sudden overload of social interaction, were still buzzing in my head and body.

On Thursday I had more work to do, as the Black Week started, and unfortunately it kinda bombed this year, both in the stores and online. People don’t buy that shit anymore. I guess it is a new era. Hopefully for the better of the world. But I also gotta “get with the program” and adapt, not only privately, but also professionally.

Fast forward, I had a fancy breakfast at a cute cafe, and later went for a stroll down to Naschmarkt and Gumpendorfer Strasse. I had Eiernockerl and Salat, my regular order at Cafe Sperl, followed by an obligatory Sachertorte und Kaffee mit Schlag. It was heavenly. Besides eating, I was not up to much, and so I headed back to Sepp’s to get ready for the evening. The Thanksgiving dinner invitation was canceled due to a death, so Sepp took me to an upscale bar (Hotel Kummer turned into another Motto venture) for cocktails. The owner was seating us. The drinks were nice and I looked good, I think. Later we had a more rustic dinner at Zum Fassl, I had venison and we talked more about our childhood and Sepp’s career path. He even flirted with a table of 4 young Spanish gays next to us. I always knew he was a scamp.

Time always runs out so fast, so soon I was packing my stuff and getting ready for bed. A short night later, I headed to Flixbus in the early morning, still dark outside, to head towards BP.

This time I was not so keen on it, and just wanted to get it over with. Especially the dentist. After she put in the inlays for fitting, I was a bit disappointed by the lack of color matching, as they looked very white and opaque. She did not respond to that. Eventually she said I could send them back to the lab to change it, but honestly I just wanted to get it over with. Once glued in, they looked acceptable. However, the mouthfeel and occlusion seemed off, I felt too much height, pressure and humps. She attempted around 4 adjustments, but eventually said I should leave it for now and in case something was not right, come to the London office in December. I was then polished and pushed out of the chair. Sziastok!

The whole experience was not the most pleasant, and my teeth really hurt that day. Still now, I suffer from pain and discomfort when eating. I hope the pain goes away, but the malocclusion needs to be fixed in London I bet.

Today, I had two breakfasts, cuz I wanted to try both places, and walked around the beautiful Rosehill. I never went to this side of BP before, and the Art Nouveau Villas are stunning! Also, I discovered the Gül Baba, a relic of the Ottoman Empire, which is a tomb or mausoleum from the 16th century. The sun shone, the golden leaves were flying, and I could calm my mind and enjoy this meditative state. Still a bit torn on what to do next, and afraid I will face a chaotic flat when arriving tonight, not willing to be the cleaner again but also not up for criticism and arguments.

I seem to always expect the worst. I think the contrast of lifestyle I experience here in comparison to London is just too apparent.

Now it’s time to go, I will actually be picked up for the airport in 20 minutes, and here I am still sitting at the desk in undies. See you in London!
Left outside

Aug 25, 2026

Vienna, 23 11 2023

I’m at Sepp’s apartment in Vienna, 4th district now, in the large living room with high ceilings and beautiful period wooden floors. The bed is cozy and I slept heavenly here last night. What a difference!

Malocclusion

Budapest, 24 11 2023

I was just too tired to write anymore yesterday, and to be honest, the whole week in Budapest and Vienna is taking a toll on me, despite having wonderful moments and great food.

I’m listening to 68 by Anima Sound System right now, the only Hungarian song I ever knew.

Ok back to chronological order:

After a more relaxed Sunday, fancy food and boujee spa treatment, Monday was less pleasant and more torturing with the dental treatment. I arrived there early in the morning, and almost didn’t believe the dusty store front with window foils peeling off was my dental clinic. First impression: iron curtain, dodgy, cheap.

I went in and people greeted me with an “Ostblock” mentality, just saying the facts and not trying to be super accommodating. Finally I went upstairs and was ready, having brushed my teeth and calmed down. I still waited ages and then my x-ray machine malfunctioned several times.

The actual treatment by the dentist, Andreá, took 2 hours and was plain torture. The anesthetic injection itself hurt, and the drilling, the exposed nerves and the wide open mouth were hard to bear. She took my old inlays and prepared them for the imprint. It was not bad, but also not great. The office was old school, like 20 years ago, and not sleek and fancy at all. Also the talking, explaining and Q&A was minimal. I sometimes stopped to get my points across.

Finally she pushed in some temporary filler sloppily, and I was left to go. My entire mouth was so numb, I could not even drink water without spilling, my lips didn’t move, I looked like Joan Rivers in her last years!

Immediately, I had to call Silke back, and slurred my speech. Work was so busy and demanding this week, I even had to text and check things in the dentist chair!

Anyway I finally went back to the Airbnb, and was shocked how painful it was, especially when the anesthetic wore off. I think I slept in the afternoon, and went out later, but did not have much energy or enthusiasm for anything. I went for a nice afternoon coffee at Fanka, with finally nice, young staff that tried to make you feel welcome and understood.

Chewing and even drinking was a pain, hard to enjoy.

In the evening I wanted to have kinai büfe, just for the sake of it, but ended up getting a proper chinese takeaway. It has gotten so expensive though, for fried rice and soup around 12 Euro. I walked around the St. Istvan Christmas market, but it was not really appealing, and I was not in the mood. I honestly think I could skip xmas this year, not feeling it.

The usual throbbing headache also was lingering for a couple of days.

Bla bla complain complain. I don’t know why, but it is hard to enjoy myself these days. Or has it always been like this? I walk around the streets, yes I do look at the magnificent architecture, and eat a great selection of foods, but I don’t get particularly high on it, and always feel tired and the need to rest. Is it the withdrawal from weed? I am actually quite glad I am off for a bit, to clear my brain and blood. I wonder if Topo is smoking up all the flowers while I’m gone.

So eventually Tuesday came around, and after checking out from my nice flat, I wandered around with my heavy bags and spent hours in cafes. I made it all the way back to Vaci Utca, our old flat, Corvinus Uni and the market hall. Old feelings came up, good ones, of a time when I was more excited about life.

It has also changed, though, not only me, but also the city. It is expensive now, more international and touristy. The old socialist flair is fading and the sour smell of pickled vegetables in the market has given way to touristy souvenir shops and food stalls. Even the coffee shop at the uni was closed.

Suddenly I was late and had to rush to Nepliget, the old hated bus station, to catch my ride to Vienna. I was perched into the back seat row, rubbing shoulders with a guy, and sweating my ass off in the heated bus with my several layers of clothes for 3 hours.

I was feeling dirty and smelly when I arrived, so I changed my sweaters at Hauptbahnhof, out in the cold, to feel decent when meeting Sepp.

His apartment in a classic century building is charming and full of character, as I expected. He was happy to see me, and after an awkward hello, he gave me a house tour and we chatted ahead. I was reminded of the grandiosity of those old houses, with wooden floors and double doors, and felt I was missing this so much. The living quality is just way superior. Imagine if I was still with Giorgio, we would probably live in a palace by now.

Soon we headed out for a nice Austrian meal, Sepp treated me, and we had many things to tell and share. We got to know each other quite well in the 3 nights I stayed there, and discovered a lot of similarities in our life stories. Both gay boys, growing up on a rural farm, dreaming of escaping into the world, living a vibrant cosmopolitan lifestyle. And we did it! His brother is a school janitor, too!

We studied business and soon left home to eastern Europe first, to soon make the big jump overseas in our twenties, ok for me early thirties.

The difference is, he also met his partner around 25 years old, and he and Steve are still going strong, married and together for 25 years, when I had lived, left and moved on 4 times since then.

Anyway it was good to hear his stories, and to open up a bit more about private life and the past.

Wednesday came around, and I knew I had another mission to do, that I’d rather skipped or procrastinated to do another time. But I was determined to come clear and do it.

So after frantically working in the morning to prepare for Black Friday, I took a train to Lower Austria. At first I was calm and relaxed, also still checking things on my phone for work on the way. I had not eaten yet, and was ready to get it over with first. But as we reached Baden, one stop before getting off, my heart started pounding and my stomach churning. Damn it really got to me, I was nervous like before a job interview!

I got off the train and started walking.

It was cold and windy, dark skies and leaves flying around. I knew the way quite well, familiar yet so strange. It’s over 2km, and the harsh weather made it even more challenging, together with the fear of what to expect. After half an hour I finally turned left, into their street.

I saw the grandparent’s house. Same as always. But the window blinds were down, and the window in the front door was covered with cardboard. Was the house already empty, and grandpa moved to an elderly care home? I was weirdly shocked and startled. I would not dare to climb over the small fence. The gate looked new and was locked. So I rang the bell from the street level.

Twice.

I waited a minute. Suddenly the door handle lowered, the door opened and a small, crooked but familiar old man came out. I was perplexed and almost moved to tears. I shouted it was me, his grandson, as he could not recognize me. But eventually he knew. His face did not light up or smile. He could not hear well. I asked if I could come in, but he replied he was sick and could not see anyone. I was nervous, scared I would miss my chance and he would turn me away. I kinda begged him to let me in for a bit, that I came all the way to see him. But he refused, and asked where “mother”was. I said I came alone. He also asked if she knew I was there, and if I didn’t talk to her. So he seems mentally not confused.

He stayed firm. Didn’t open the gate for me. Told me I can’t come in, he had to lie down, I could come again the next day. THE NEXT DAY!

The door closed. I was left just stunned, disappointed and confused.

However, I was glad he was alive and seemingly able to live there, without someone taking over his space and duties. He mentioned he had no one, only a nurse watching over him.

After that I had to collect my thoughts, and think of what to do next. I had already spent so much effort to come, paid tickets and walked through the cold wind, I would not go all the way back here tomorrow so he would not open, turn me away or be rude.

So I walked back the 1km into the city center, bought some food and wine and herbal tea at Billa, couldn’t find flowers, and got an expensive mask from the pharmacy so he would not use his illness as an excuse. I marched back to the house, this time determined and self assured.

I rang a few times, but this time the door didn’t open anymore. I resigned, jumped over the fence and left the care package at the door. I turned around one last time and walked away. It was out of my hands.

I just hoped he would be touched by me coming, but now we both cannot get in touch, as he does not have a phone, and he knows nothing about my whereabouts.

I thought I would write one last letter or card, explaining the situation and leaving my contact details, so he could reach me. I doubt it. The man who not once visited his grandchildren, who never wrote a card or hugged one, would write down a lovely word? Or even a mean one.

But I had to do it for my own peace of mind. And walking back to the train station, cold, windy and awful, I felt better, knowing I did what I could. Mostly. I thought had I brought a mask from the beginning, I would have been able to get into the house. Or had I jumped over the fence and rang the actual doorbell, instead of standing 20m away and shouting. But it is what it is.

I was only eager to get back to Vienna, and to meet Paul finally. That was the straw I clinged onto. More tomorrow. Or another day.

xoxo
Dalida

Jul 15, 2026

Budapest 19 11 2023

Another dinner alone in Budapest, this time at Meshuga, an Israeli restaurant that I choose despite the current political situation. I feel people are looking at me strangely when I appear, everywhere, alone, maybe a bit lost or looking sad and tragic.

The first night… After dinner I walked around in my area, and saw a fancy looking cocktail bar with silk road themed drinks. It was quite pricey though and also full, so I was not feeling like sitting alone at the bar next to dating couples.

I went to a ratched gay club near the opera instead. After paying 2000 Forint entrance fee, I found myself in a basic, large basement bar and asked for a negroni. At first they said it was not available, but then the other bartender made one with around 5 shots of booze for a whopping 5500 HUF. I felt scammed and tipsy soon. I moved over to the dancefloor, and they played early 2000 bangers in non stop remix, including Eminem and other straight club anthems. The crowd was very mixed and no one was cute. I endured it till midnight, when an old drag queen dragged the show for too long, in Hungarian, and when one of two obese trans women, hardly able to stand, puked in front of the DJ booth, I knew it was time to leave.

I felt quite dizzy from that monster of a drink and didn’t sleep well either. I just realized that trashy just doesn’t do it for me, I need classy entertainment.

This morning it was a bit hard to get out of bed, I felt physically sick and mentally unmotivated. Eventually I found a breakfast place and had smoothie bowl and coffee, and a vegan fusion restaurant Vitali recommended for lunch, followed by coffee and cake at Central. It was a binge eating spree. Anyway I started to feel better, and despite the rainy, cold weather, I strolled for hours, went to the meaty christmas market and searched for swimwear to go to the spa. After finally buying an ugly speedo trunk, I headed to the Royals Spa near Octagon. The receptionist was nice and recommended a massage, which also allowed me to use the facilities.
I went to the sauna and jacuzzi, rested and swam. Finally my stressed massage lady arrived and did a nice, but very gentle aromatherapy treatment. I found it really hard to relax and unwind the entire 3 hours in the spa, constantly having to solve things in my head or just overthinking my life, self pitying myself or feeling stomach cramps. Even the most relaxing thing like a thermal bath can be stressful for me!
After that the next challenge – finding a dinner place. And I ended up where I started – Meshuga.

Sometimes when I walk around alone, order food and wine just for myself, and try to keep myself looking busy with my phone or a book, I feel like Dalida in the movie, when she was old and sad and lonely, and went home to have a last dinner, sent her helper away to take a last drink, sleeping pills and go to sleep forever…

I have no ambition to do so, but just this feeling of a lonely, tragic figure with an aura of sadness, being pitied by others, oddly resonates with me. I don’t want to be Dalida!

My hair looks on fleek like hers, though.

I ponder again about my choices, and talking to Aluna, Juri and Loo these days reminds me of a time when I had my life kinda worked out. At least compared to now.

Even coming home to a nice, clean, warm and nice smelling flat, like my airbnb here, makes me realize how much I dislike the cold, damp and stuffy London flat with the decaying bathroom.

My clothes and hair smell weird, whenever I come to a clean place like here, unveiling the stuffy odor of London. The bong smoke does the rest.

Letizian told me about an amazing acid trip he had last weekend, how mind altering it was and how much he smiled afterwards. I wonder if the stamp could be the catalyst to make the changes I need to make.

I know it, yes, but my brain is wired to keep things as they are.

Now enough of the pondering, I need to sleep. Tomorrow morning I have the dentist appointment, and I need to be clear of what I want, at least there, and say NO to anything that goes against my plan.

XOXO
Cosmopolitan

Mar 16, 2026

Budapest 18 11 2023

I’m having dinner at Vak Varyú in Budapest.

A nice perch pike filet with almond and Hungarian Ezerjo wine. It’s affordable and the restaurant is buzzing and fancy! I enjoy my me-time and realize that I’m a cosmopolitan at heart, I miss jetting around and going to nice places. Kinda like I did with Giorgio or Xavier. It feels natural to me to arrive in a new city, go out for dinner and drinks and find out what’s going on. I got so fucking domestic in London and life is too expensive to experience there.

My Airbnb in Kiraly utca is cute, too, so I’m excited for my little urban getaway. Ich habe Blut geleckt und will mehr.

Auf Linkedin habe ich mit Istvan geschrieben, stell dir vor, wie cool es wäre, wenn wir uns zum Dinner treffen würden? Aber er wohnt jetzt in Amsterdam.

Dinner is done, i‘m exhausted but tempted to go for a drink in a nice bar.

Let’s explore
High in the tree

Mar 16, 2026

Leytonstone 17 11 2023

I’m currently sitting in an old oak tree in the woodlands next to Leytonstone, a mild sun shining in my face, relaxing after smoking a small blunt.

To be real, I just came here to enjoy some nature time and have a coffee, but the feeling of just getting lost was so tempting that I changed my 4pm Pilates to a 6pm barre class.

I love this area here lately, especially the hipster cafe with the quirky handsome baristas.

And it’s not too far from home.

Yesterday the weather was dreadful, so I also lit up the bong and took a 3 hour nap later. It was a wild and dreamy sleep, ending with a dizzy and confused awakening. Def don’t go to sleep right after fuming up.

I had recovered by the evening and cooked like a good housewife.

Also my Marlene Dietrich biography by Maria Riva arrived, old, used and worn. Hope it’s somehow inspiring, to be myself and live out my nature less apologetically.

Tomorrow I’ll fly to Budapest already for my dental treatment, and together with Black Friday at work, the trip to Vienna and Sepp, and a potential visit to grandpa it is quite a challenging trip. I should book some spa and beauty treatments in Hungary lol. More planning to do ..

I should walk a bit now to enjoy the float.

Ciao
Iso E Super

Jan 29, 2026

London, November 2023

My first day being 42 started early, at 7:20am. I had another conference call with the queen of hearts and the army of cards, and it was quite emotional and desperate from both sides, regarding the Black Friday promotions. So I made a suggestion to make everything more straightforward. Everyone agreed quickly, and I was happy we could end the call after one hour this time. Then I had to follow up with artwork and ordering posters, and by 11, I was hungry and ate breakfast alone. Topo had not come out of bed by then, and I woke him with sunlight by opening the blinds and windows.

After he finally got up, he came over and was quite agitated again about work. The unfairness of it all, people having to admit their wrongs and having to say he does them a favor, because it is right and everybody agrees, and that they were wrong. A full rant with finger swooping and pointing aggressively. I don’t know if it is because of the weed consumption or my zen practice, but I am not on such an aggressive frequency, and these vibes hit me really hard. I can’t say much and just listen and nod.

Oh I said something, though. He said he has to be careful not to let it affect his mood or something like that. And I said, “well it already has affected you, right?” He immediately countered that he has to tell me everything and not just swallow it and deal with it alone. Like, I shouldn’t blame him for being upset. When I simply mention that he was, clearly, since he has been obsessively talking about this disagreement at work for days, can’t listen to anything else and seems distant, only drilling on his hurt emotions and ego.

I mean it is ok to rant about work, I can take it! But his whole focus revolves around pride and feeling unfairly treated. And again and again. And with his reaction to what I say, he shows that he feels like that towards me, too. That I am falsely criticizing him and demanding hypocritical standards.

Of course I cannot say any of these things unless I want major drama and days of silence afterwards.

Yesterday we actually went out to that bar. I got tipsy, dressed up in my old designer clothes from Chegini in Vienna, with the transparent Rick Owens top I thought I would never wear again. But thanks to pilates, barre, and hyper self-consciousness about my posture, I think I can pull it off.

I headed to Liverpool Street and texted him. He wanted to meet me at 10. Surprisingly, he was at the pub with his cast members, and they sent me a video. I sat in front of the bar in the cold wind for 15 minutes, as I would have hated to wait alone at a table on my birthday even more.

He came, tipsy, and I couldn’t hide my disappointment and mood. But as soon as we entered Silverleaf, I was ‘back to normal,’ and we ordered really fancy, crafted cocktails for 16 pounds and boujee bar food.

It was nice, elegant, and I felt better spending the evening like this rather than cooking at home. It was not really busy, though, and more like an after-work venue.

We went home and he didn’t want to go to bed, despite me having to get up early the next day. Hence the late rising this morning.

In the afternoon, after I managed all the work tasks, I rolled a spliff and went to Leytonstone again, to the cute hipster cafe I recently discovered. And then into the fields, smoking in a cozy, old oak tree. I was nice, but I was not in the mood or able to walk very far today. I like Leytonstone though.

I tried to buy perfume dupes recently, and finally ordered Iso E Super from ebay, the same ingredient as Eccentric Molecule 01, for only 17 pounds. Wearing it right now. The thing with this scent is, you don’t smell it yourself anymore. You just hope it still radiates a warm, ambery pheromone-like odor that enchants people the way it did me when I first took a sniff of it in a concept store in Milano Marittima with Giorgio ca. 2007. What an olfactory memory. I’m gonna spray that shit on everything from now on.
42

Jan 29, 2026

London, November 2023

Actually, it is a pretty ordinary day. I had to wake up early for a conference call for work, and, as expected, it lasted forever. Finally, I was done at 10am, and Topo was still in bed. I made breakfast by myself, and we ate silently. I didn’t expect much, but he could’ve gotten up and prepared something in the kitchen while I was in the meeting. Or get some croissants or flowers or something. But I had to make brekkie, start eating alone, and he did not even peel and cut the avocado he took out of the fridge, for me, to slice it into mouth-sized pieces!

So yeah my ego was not happy about it inside, also it was raining cats and dogs, and nobody at work acknowledged my bday either.

So I was quite moody and got high as soon as Topo left for rehearsal, and I still am. Went for a long walk to Victoria Park, but it was so damn cold and windy. I asked myself what I was doing here, alone in London, cold, rainy, and dark, eating greek yogurt for lunch and getting stoned all day while working.

I mean, two years ago I had MY rooftop party with a long table and catering and a dozen friends to celebrate with me. Today some WhatsApp messages and IG likes are all I got as human interaction. I miss my old life!

At the same time I try not to be bitter, and find something nice in every day and experience. But it seems I have seen a million red leaves by now and felt cold for months on, I am saturated with this experience!

I gotta sell my Wonderfruit Thailand ticket soon as I’m very unlikely going to Asia next month. Like totally unlikely.

So I ate some cheese and cold cuts (wild boar) and had wine. Tipsy, listening to Sade Deluxe. It was cute in my twenties to have just discovered that, and my dream of a flat in the city, with rain outside and a glass of red wine, like my dream from the village to the metropolis, sleek and modern, alone and intense. I need experiences!

4 hours left of my fucking birthday. The older, the less exciting. Anyway, I didn’t want to spend the evening at home, cooking, waiting for my man to come home, so I suggested we go for a drink. I wanna dress up and go to a fancy bar, to feel special and cool. I mean, I live in London, so why not? Actually, it was my boss’s voice message that inspired me, suggesting we might do “something nice tonight”.

Anyway, I picked the Silverleaf bar. It looks fancy and cool, just like in my big-city-dream fantasy.
41

Jan 29, 2026

London, Nov 2023

Today I am still 41 years old. Tomorrow is my birthday. Big deal.

So for my Sunday Pre-Birthday we ate the one remaining mushroom, I rolled a spliff and we went to Theydon Bois and into the woods. The shroom did make me feel quite elevated and light, and combined with the weed we roamed through the trees quite afloat. It was good, despite the cool and overcast weather.

Eventually we went home, ordered food and I made rum cocktails. I got quite tipsy and the whole combo of stimulants hit me like a truck and I got super knackered. We went to bed and I had haunting dreams about Giorgio and him being a killer, hunting and getting a house full of people, me one of them. I ran and hid but some bitch made noises and gave us away. He appeared in front of me, with a big grin. I tried to kiss him and make everything good, but he still stabbed me. Eventually it got very wild and slightly sexual, and despite waking up a few times I continued the dream for a while.

And then I had sex with Topo and we were quite uninhibited. Well, I was, for sure.

Morning – nothing special, I had to clean out the drains with the plunger, fix the coffee machine after a landslide of hot coffee water poured over it, and had a call with Aluna, catching up on our old life.

Pilates was quite good at four, and I tried to hang out in Shoreditch for a bit, going to shops and stuff, but gave up bored.

Finally I could relax a bit at home and get high, cook, blablabla too many boring details. What’s important is I don’t feel much about my birthday, I’ll have a work call at 8am, and Topo will be at work till late. No friends here to meet. Only me at home. I want to go and “treat myself”. Whoop dee doo.

I got the cool leather jacket as a gift, that’s nice. And mom’s Sachertorte.

What am I doing? Having major self-doubts right now about the direction my life is going. Almost like back when I felt stuck, in my hometown as a teen, and just waited for things to get better. It’s just now that I am in charge of myself. And I am the one who can make it better. And 42 is another year closer to the end. I wanna live!
Singles Day

Nov 21, 2025

London, 11 11 2023

After I showered and Topo came home, I was happy and excited to see him. He was a bit disappointed that I did not read what was written on the back of the photo he placed in the corridor next to Godiva chocolates. I had no clue it was meant for me. But yeah, I did not mention it to him via Whatsapp earlier.

So he ate what I cooked, and asked me to talk about my trip to Austria . First I brought the gifts I got from my family and unpacked them and explained to him. Also the things that were for him, just some food stuff. Then I talked about how it was staying with mom for so long and he asked what topics I talked about with my mom and family, and if they were deep.

I started to explain how mom talks (all day) and how I respond to it, and that it can be deep but not about philosophy or something. That there are probably 70% rants and the rest stories from the past. Anyway he stopped me to give advice on what mom really needed, that was someone to listen to to ask questions about how she felt. I just wanted to continue my story about my week away, quite briefly actually, but he drilled back to what he wanted to say and also inserted stories about rehearsal and the cunts he had to deal with at work etc. And when I continued or tried to continue talking about my trip, his glance was empty and distant and he didn’t follow me anymore, just saying some passive “oh really” now and then. It felt a bit strange, as if he was put off suddenly and was not interested to converse anymore, unless it was for him to bring his train of thought to an end. Almost as he was stuck and annoyed that I carried on.

So that and the influence of MJ created a bit of a debating atmosphere and so I tried my best to turn it around as I was in no mood for another fight based on disagreements and sensitivities while babbling bs high in the kitchen.

Also he used everything I said to prove something about me that he thinks is wrong or my blind spot. Like thinking I don’t listen to my mom and giving her unsolicited advice, when all I said was I am just applying my mediation practice, not to react to her when I am feeling triggered.

I finally got to change topics and we went to bed. At night I woke up and he tried to touch and grab me, which normally I would be pleasantly surprised by. But I was kinda dreaming I was still in Austria on my mom’s sofa.

Only later in the morning, I replied to his cuddling, and we had quite intense and passionate sex.

It was great. But after breakfast he was distant again and suddenly left at 11, for yoga before rehearsal. I was surprised that he left, and he said “what should I do at home?” It was not really mean or bad, but still strange and kinda the opposite of what he always says about communication and telling each other our plans.

I was not sad for long, as the weather was stunning and I went for a hike with a spliff in Leytonstone. I discovered a very cute hipster coffee shop and street with cute houses that I could imagine living in. Also it is just a few steps from Wanstead flats, where I met and petted a purring red, fluffy cat for a while, before lighting up and a guided meditation on a little grass hill, absorbing the mild November sun.

It was the perfect Saturday afternoon. Back home I cooked and ran errands, and got more high. I was not totally lost, but kept forgetting what I wanted to do, and succumbing to iPhone video holes.

Now he will come home soon. Let’s see what mood he is in now. Hot or cold. I said thank you for cleaning and the welcome greetings. Guess it is still not seen appreciated enough.

Soon is my pre-birthday day as he will be working on Tuesday evening. Hope it’s not raining. Also I don’t know what to do on my birthday, kinda sad but whatever.

Gotta go. xoxo
Identity Crisis

Nov 21, 2025

London 10 11 2023

Having started the morning at 6:30 am with a view over the fields of Salzburg, I now find myself dancing, high in the kitchen, to Kylie’s new album in East London. It’s been a journey…

Last week I flew to my hometown for the first time in a year, and had mixed feelings. and a cough. Veronica picked me up and we were happy to see each other. Went right to mom’s home and had dinner together. Mom looked quite fit and happy, but her torn knee was another physical setback…

Anyway we had a good time and talked. Veronica is fighting with her boyfriend and maybe breaking up. I wish she would. I don’t tell her that though.

With mom it was ok, we talked a lot about old times and dramas, sometimes too deep or intense, so that some old wounds would bleed again. The days went by real quick besides the fact that I did not do much but go for a short walk to the neighboring village, cook with mom and listen to endless rants. On Sunday we went to Johann’s family. There was an awkward moment in the beginning when we all stood in the corridor, not knowing what to say, and just stared insecurely at teach other. Eventually we warmed up a bit, and I was more talking to my nieces than following the usual old stories or problem pushing questions. My brother cooked real nice and gave me an early birthday gift with a very sweet card. That evening I still went to meet Gabriel and his new girlf at aunt Erika’s house. He smoked until his eyes were half shut, and told stories about his psychedelic experiences, including instructions, upon my indirect request.

Seems everyone in the homeland is doing some sorta shroom or stamp. For sure it was not his cute, privileged girlfriend, who was just listening in awe.

Anyway the point is, I bumped into lots of relatives those days, and everyone wanted to meet me! Not literally everyone tho, but ok. I had a brekkie with my cousin and he made crepes. And I opened up quite quickly and had that good old feeling of ‘fuck I overshared’ afterwards. Still interesting cuz I had actually never shared more than 2 sentences before. Like ever. Also bumped into Annegret briefly and Erika several times. Plus my other with her new baby on the way to the farm.

So I also walked a few rounds over to the village. It was beautiful everywhere, with the autumn sun and meticulously groomed gardens and even farms. Everything is so perfect, so familiar yet so far from where I am. People greet you and frown if you don’t, their faces are scanning you and trying to categorize where you belong. And speaking in local dialect for 7 days felt so unusual. Paired with olfactory references (silage at those farms), and old family homes and gardens, it quite messed with my mind.

I felt as if that part in me, the one I left behind around 2008, when I moved to Hungary, had reemerged and was not getting along with my newer me, the one who created an international delusional fantastic dream lifestyle. My brain started to think in Austrian dialect like there was no tomorrow, and I spoke to people in a weirdly outdated sounding language. I even was not really good at telling any story to my family, because I had a very bumpy speech, with pauses, searching for the right sentence to make sense. So cliche I know, but really my brain is faster in English now.

Talking to mom about the whole dad gambling and bankruptcies stories also conjured up a familiar, but unpleasant feeling. Maybe all these pictures for my senses just line up in the same way as back then, and bring back some buried emotions from the unconscious.

I neither felt belonging there nor to London.

After 6 nights I was about time to move out from mom’s sofa and head out, even though she already misses me and got used to the daily social interaction.

I took the train to Salzburg and finally met my friend Lily againm after 5 years, when I had stayed at their new house with Xavier.

This time alone, I was a bit nervous, whether we would have changed a lot, she was a mom now, or if my weed times in London had already altered my personality.

She looked like always, not aged much, still the same cool blonde with piercing blue eyes. We chatted right away, it didn’t feel weird or distant. Their house was still awesome with these views, and her daughter Johanna is the sweetest 2 year old I ever saw. The way she babbles in Salzburgerisch is just adorable.

We had Spinatknödel, which Lily cooks kinda ritually whenever I show up every few years, and I’m loving it. We even went to a Pilates class together in the local kindergarten and planked with the local housewives and grandpa in jeans. It was quite good though, and the first day I did not cough my insides out from the bronchitis I had.

We still talked until midnight, and again I shared a lot of darker thoughts and feelings. It just starts to flow out of me once the cork is removed. Like bashing the London life, our Grandpa inheritance story, my dad’s death anniversary etc. With my self-satyrical humor I think I brought it back to lighter topics, and I talked about my travels and the future with AI. LOL. I talked much more than them, but I think it’s because they are both more introverted than me. Or just sick of my BS. Or I never let them talk. LOL. Fuck.

I slept in the TV room, and woke up quite a few times with intense dreams, dealing with the emotions of the whole week. Moreover, work wanted to reach me and I had to make up an urgent dentist appointment to cover the flight time back to London this morning. And here we are, sitting high in the salon, writing this and listening to disco pop divas.

I have one week here, then I move on to the next adventure…

phew ok that one week of MJ abstinence really paid of lol. floating to the bathroom…

Malocclusion