One of those days, when I was in Slovakia, I hung myself out of a window of a proper taxicab, too loudly singing an unexpected track that came on the radio, and one I still sometimes enjoy now but certainly loved in that moment, only just enough to continue staying inside a car that might maybe take us somewhere we wanted to be at.
Turns out that the southern bank of the Danube appears differently between its day and night times, remembering me to feel optimistic, since I can, actually, see those lights and the river so longingly reminding me then of which direction to head toword, eventually.
