Hungary and Baroque

Okay.

I lost my wallet in Budapest. I actually do not like to say that I lost my wallet because that suggests that it is totally my fault. So I tell everyone that my wallet has vanished. This is more fitting because it opens the possiblity that my wallet had been stolen by one of those horrid gypsy types.

I actually like the gypsies. They stick out like a sore, brown, horribly dressed thumb.

Anyways, I was walking around Buda castle when I decided to grab something to eat. A nice stale cinibon from the local foodshop atop castle hill. I continued my little tourist sightsee journey around the hill, photographing this and that. After an hour and a half, I walked down to Mammut Shopping complex.

*I am currently looking on the market for a new memory card for my camera. Turns out 12 gbs is not enough for my e-photo album.*

When I came to Europe`s version of Futureshop I noticed that a certain buldge in my pants was missing. Where could it have gone? Somewhere between Buda Castle and Mammut Shopping center. Frantically I raced around town asking shop clerks with no sense of English. I swore at nothing and everything.

My ID, my SIN card, my debit cards... all gone.

My supply line was cut. There I was, in central Hungary, alone and broke.

It was the most amazing sensation. For months, now, I have been roaming Europe, carefree. And suddenly, in the matter of seconds, I could not even get across town on public transit. I had less than $5 CND in my pocket. I had 4 Polish dollars, and 65 Hungarian Forints.

To put it lightly, I was up shit creek...

But now I had a purpose. Now I had a special task to achieve during my days here in Budapest. I had to rebuild my empire. Bridge the gap to establish ties to my supply line.

The next day, as I walked to my embassy, a song came on my head phones. The Newpornographers really touched me. Their words spoke true in the early morning light. Something that hardly happens but when it does, it lasts for an eternity and all else seem to be non existant.
Like you are the only person alive that can hear the true meaning.
But at the same time you really amount to nothing...

I was under the radar...

I was too far down the rabit hole... out of my element... I was alone and I had to find myself again.

`A new Empire in rags`

This flooded my little brain with emotion. It is a rollar coaster here in Europe.

`It was the best of times, it was the worst of times....`

I finally phoned home the following day. 24 hours later I had access to some money wired to me through Western Union. Godbless the 21st century. Here I thought I might finally be free for the first time in my life. Liberated from the helping hand of man. Without money, identification, and a passport, you are nothing. You are a ghost to the world. You mean nothing, and you achieve nothing for the greater good of man. But you are free.

Freedom, my friends, is independence. It is being nothing to the rest of man. It is highest state of Being but the lowest level of productivity.

And to think I was nearly sleeping on Freedom`s doorsteps....


Adiós, from Budapest

ps. I hope you get my witty little title....