An_other coffee place

It isn't often that you hear a complete CD at one sitting in a coffee shop these days. I was very surprised to meet with an old favourite then. One hour of comforting anguish with Coldplay wailing over a rush of blood to the head. If only my feet were taken care of, I would attend to my head. I discovered yesterday that wet shoes keep blisters away. It is an incredbly beautiful day today (and I have an impending blister) in a part of ___...more like a Spanish colony, than an English one. Warm, soft and golden sunlight on stuccoed cream colonial buildings speak Spanish, or Portugese. English is made for sterner weather. And is probably more ordered. I wonder what language I dream in? My foot hurts...a tiny spot at the side of the arch. It is definitely the onset of a blister. Did I say it is a gloriously perfect day? I like to see places in peoples' eyes. I wonder what my eyes hold? When I try to gaze into my eyes, I see mirrors. The hotel I satyed in before my present accomodations had the awful idea of placing parallel mirrors along the corridors to the rooms. Needlessly glorifying the walk to the room. Amplifying the aching feet. Or the urgency to pee. It was a boutique hotel. I read somewhere that artists without friends weren't worth calling artists. The hotel was not friendly like.. It is obvious I cringed in it. Fancy hotels force you into seeing sights. Doing things. Walk ridiculously all day from sight to sight. Beautiful sights, without respite. Today I saw a Thonet Chair painted pink on Boundary Street. Do ruins ever become ugly? It would be quite something to go see a sight which has an apology mounted on it: "we are sorry about the ugliness of this once beautiful ___". Most ugly buildings identified as such are lived in buildings. In use. Put to use. Ab-used? I travel differently now. The more places remind me of another, the more I feel different. That I have changed. Since yesterday. Since a year ago. Five years. The Coldplay has finished. This next CD is rather melancholic. It is reminding me of my walk back. Groan! I think I should learn rollerblading before my next trip. I am done with walking.I came to ___ Street to shop. The only shops I seem to stop at today are ones with seats or restrooms. Today I met a chap who is a bodyguard with Cirque Du Soleil. I have never met a bodyguard before.He asked me if anyone had told me how beautiful I was, today? I answered that it was 7 o'clock in the morning, so no, not yet. A simple Thank You would have sufficed. But either way, I would've been presumptious, I think. I infinitely prefer having been to places than being in one. The pressure to do things is crushing. To my feet, especially. I saw my first "Whole Foods" woman. Says something about the n'hood. It is strange how 'diverse' for me has come to include the presence of "Whole Foods" people. Ethnicity isn't enough, it is habits. And the appearance of lifestyles. Apparently, the bodyguard remembered my smile from yesterday. What is going on? Do I have a smile permanently plastered on my face? Ugh! I think I will conclude my shopping day. I bought nothing. There is an accomplishment in that that I do not want disturbed. This winter, though, I am definitely wearing boots. The music has perked up. Maybe this is a good time to leave.I think people who shop are terribly optimistic. And I am getting tired of these one liners. One of these days, I should venture into staying with a thought long enough to see it go stale, purtrify and smell. Arbitrary endings still don't make sense.