Praha

Hey there? Hi! I just noticed this book you’re reading and I thought it looked familiar. Yes, its ‘A hundred years of solitude’. I mean, I can’t read Czech but I recognize the cover and yeah, it says so right there, that’s a Latin American writer, see?

Am I disturbing you? I hate it when people bother me while I’m reading, but I just had to come over and talk to you. This is so unlike me: I may be suffering from some form of the Jerusalem Syndrome, only, well, we’re in Prague, so instead of prophesying and preaching the end of the world I’m feeling bohemian, romantic and irate. And I saw you. I was walking along the opposite side of the street with my homosexual friend and I just had to cross over here and talk to you because, well, I really have no choice. This place is just so awesome and I don’t believe the people who live here are aware of just how awesome it is. And I’ve been to some pretty big places, too. I mean, look at you. A young beautiful brunette, reading on her own in a bench in the middle of the city. And I know you don’t care to be seen and I know you don’t care for appearances (because I can see you don’t care for fashion and I know you don’t care for skin care and I hate myself for knowing this) and this only makes you more beautiful. And now you must think I’m coming on to you, but it’s not just you, you’re the eight such girl I’ve seen today. I can imagine a hundred such benches in this city, each with their respective beautiful young natural girl, each with their book or their flute or their pet kitten. And I know that even if the girls in New York or London or Copenhagen or Paris are prettier and better dressed (someone kill me right now), the Czechs in Prague… well, you’re the real thing and you don’t even know it!

It’s like the whole world is crazy over worries and misplaced priorities and thinking about global warming and money and HDTV and Bono and the best possible sex and the secret to happiness and I find you people here just living and doing things one can actually enjoy. This is the city to spend a nice summer day, strolling in your parks and seeing the jugglers and the sword-fighters and the skaters. This is the place to have a teenage romance and have a beer by the river and make out under every bridge. And even though I’m only here for a few days, it’s like I’ve mentally re-lived my whole life in this place. And I think of all the cool things I would do and the nice places I would take my girlfriend and how I could make everything perfect. Because this is a fucking romantic place and it’s so fucking depressing that I’m alone now. And even more fucking depressing to see all the couples walking around and seeing so many lonely beautiful girls sitting in benches just being awesome and me, being heartbroken and dead and walking around with my homosexual friend…

So you see, I had to come and tell you this. Cause I think I could be one of you, I think in my mind I already am. I could totally do this. But yeah, you’re just staring at me because I’m clearly not sane. Of course, you couldn’t understand a thing I said: you don’t speak English. I’m going to go back now, my friend is waiting with his homosexual self…

…you’re extra hot, by the way.

~ by vandrerol on 2008.September.1.

One Response to “Praha”

  1. Más escritura y menos modificaciones visuales al blog.

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