Man-moth

My sister has taken ill. The bells of St. Christopher are ringing to make it an exact 12 pm. I ordered a latte in German and was asked whether I’d like cinnamon or chocolate sprinkles in English.

I’ve miss my friends and life in Cairo. The bells are still ringing. One of my best memories is the night E* and I walked down Hassan Sabry on the other side of 26^th of July and I revealed secrets about myself, which ended up not being secrets at all. I’m convinced that I’m in love with him. then there’s T* back home. What was that Jane Austen quote about mountains vs. men? Insert that here. 

Berlin I

I lack the energy to continue traveling. Fatigue has usurped my wherewithal. Berlin and its people are beautiful. It all makes sense. But I am bored. This may be attributed to my extensive and excessive travels from home—studies in Egypt have led to a sojourn in Deutschland.

I’ve lost the will to be impressed by architectural miracles or sculptural sensation. When I get on a bus, I only wish it that it be headed to my house. My sister, I sense, is not having fun and as her travel companion I sense failure. Ugh, I just want to go home.