i can’t see the lines i used to think i could read between

Gego, by design, and not unlike myself, is a CREATURE of the NIGHT. When he is at home in his high tower in Friedrichshain, his mother Isabella lets him roam the courtyard all night. She leaves the front door cracked open for him to come and go as he pleases, presumably to occasionally take breaks from terrorizing the local bird and small rodent population. But now he is here in my high tower in Schöneberg, where I have no courtyard, just a backyard . . . and there is just no way I’m letting him run around my neighborhood all night. If I lost Gego, my life would be forfeit! And so I have to keep him inside all the time, which I can tell has begun to stir some ancient craziness in him. I understand and sympathize with this impulse. So a few minutes ago, I opened my balcony door and let the cold November breeze fill my apartment. I said to Gego:

“BROTHER, DO YOU SMELL THE NIGHT . . . ?”

. . . and we both sniffed at the crisp air coming in through the open door. I stood next to him in the doorway and in silence we felt that old familiar feeling and felt very good indeed. Yet that scent had activated something inside him, and glancing down he looked downright feral now. His large eyes widened and he let out a primordial sound. Desperately he needed to be outside in it—to be one with the Night again. So I crossed the length of the room to get to my antechamber where I’m storing his suitcase. I retrieved his harness and leash and he recoiled at the sight and ran under my bed. I understood then: Gego does not wish to go out into the night a tethered man. He must be free inside of it. Again, I understood. But I reminded him that my primary directive is to ensure his survival, safety, and comfort. To release him into the darkness with no means of retrieval would be a betrayal of my duties. He huffed at this. I’m serious!

Eventually I closed the balcony door on account of it’s only a few degrees above freezing. Now he is pawing furiously at the door to be let out. I’m on the fourth floor, by the way. I have no doubt that if I opened it and the screen door beyond and let him roam the balcony, he’d jump into one of the trees and kill whatever was sleeping there. I’m dead serious. He absolutely would do that. Under no circumstances is he allowed to kill the little red squirrels!

Hopefully he’ll give up and pass out soon . . . he’s very cute when he’s sleeping.

My girlfriend was not at the cafe today, but I did manage to finish a vast majority of my Christmas cards . . .

I did not make or send any Christmas cards last year because I was too sad to get it together. It was the first time in years I had not done so. So this year I made them especially insane. Please anticipate! But only if you want to . . .

Young Gego returned today . . . he’ll be with me until December. He does not know how much I need him here. It’s not just that I need someone to sit beside me while I play RESIDENT EVIL, but also I need a little dude to talk to sometimes! Living alone rules. But, every now and then, it does feel better to not talk to yourself all the time . . .

Last night I bought a plane ticket to Brussels to spend Christmas with The Belgians. It was either that or go to Estonia with Elina, but I owe the Belgians a visit. I haven’t spent Christmas with them since 2022! Assuming I don’t leave Germany’s borders until then, Belgium will be the ninth country I’ve visited since January: Japan, USA, The Netherlands, Austria, Czechia, Italy, Switzerland, and England. Whoa. I wanted to go back to Poland before the year ends, but alas . . .

Tomorrow I’m going to wake up and feed Gego and then walk across the street and work at the cafe there. I have a big crush on one of the servers. Last time I saw her, she told me her name. Of course, I told her my name too. If she’s working, I’m going to ask her out. Hey, why not?? I don’t care anymore. I almost died a few days before my birthday earlier in the year. And yet I live. I have an arrangement with the one who let me go on like this a little while longer. And so saying, there is a sort of feeling you get once you have been to that place and have come back from it. One of the benefits is that you are fearless when asking out a server at a cafe. What’s the worst that could happen? She pulls out a broadsword and tears me asunder? To that I say: go ahead and do it already. But I reckon we will all find out tomorrow.

Till then . . . ☆彡

The Belgians are here . . .

close enough!

elina is here lol