europa, some where between interzone and outerzone, a city built on myth, a city the city, a hybrid jung kafka labyrinth, a tram city where the streets have no names but they have games, personality oozes and pours, everyone knows every one, strangers introduce themselves via their hat tricks and the lonely can meet the lost here on street corners bars and cafe , you spend money frivolously, it flows right through your fingers and toes, it falls between hands, it slides between the legs, in the inside pockets and the outside rockets, europa is the place where you come to be in fashion with anti fashion, it's cool, it's the soft porn city, it's the city of interesting drugs and medicines, there's freedom here to utilise, freedom to innovate and think outside the box, particularly in architecture, i see why europa exudes such masters, it's all form and shape, and light.
looking out the bliss, locking out the night, money is limited, but you hear generous figures, you see people make do, you see the talent on street corners, a trio of musicians all girls, all under 16 playing and singing in harmony, it's beautiful, a man plays a cello while lunch is served, a big black bird lands on my head and flies off, 'crow,' daryl says.