I'm off to California on wednesday to stay with grandma in her santa cruz hippieville home. There's an endless amount of books on the Third Reich and capitalism, so I'll be busy. But really, when I booked this trip two months ago, it was because I was desperate to get away. Lately though, I have turned Crown Heights into my own little playground. I no longer need to leave, because I have everything I need right here. Friends to misbehave with. new acquaintances to have adventures with. an empty fridge with nothing but white wine. an empty freezer with nothing but vodka. and cupboards with truly nothing in them. I don't need food. I have a different kind of sustenance. I am running without guilt. It is gone. I can't decide if I am truly living, or slowly dying. Whatever it is, I can do it in Crown Heights as easily as California. Bon voyage kinderloch. I'll work on my tan and enjoy other greeneries northern California has to offer.