Pressure is what makes diamonds, so I have heard.
Lavish lifestyle, there to decay. Fading brilliance of new things. Look beyond, what leaves a scar that makes you smile slyly?
I have been back, in full force. I was welcomed, by bright sunshine and an eternally blue sky. I breathed in, once the city’s odour, then the one inside one of the dark underground pivo places that once was a ground floor.
This whole city has been elevated, now it is built on top of its own history. Preserved in the darkness, the moist earth. We keep on living in these caverns of forgotten times. Sometimes, we begin to become forgotten ourselves.
I am back, keeping with the pulse of this magnificent Loch of a city, the history is my Nessie and I am here to hunt forever, like Captain Ahab.
So here I sit, with my harpoon leaning against the damp stones. I am having my beer, hoping to become just like these underground caverns.
Historical, untouched, preserved.