Tessék.

This is the second day in a row that I've sat in cafe that has played Richard Cheese. It's all I can do to not laugh out loud when I hear it. If anyone is unfamiliar with the work of Richard Cheese, let me just tell you that he takes any song (pop, rap, 90s, you name it) and transforms it with jazz rendition to make the original song almost unrecognizable. Here's an example.... Ice, Ice, Baby . Hear for yourself! 

For the past week it has seized me: a stark realization that Budapest is just a phase. It is real life, but only for a short time. Hungary has become a home despite the lack of my Home. My thoughts protest leaving with proof that I can now count forints without having to see the numbers. I utter köszönöm without a trace of thank-you. My American sensibility of hurry has excused itself from my daily routine. 

Budapest is like a cup of hosszú kávé: the beginning is creamy and comfortable but the taste of coffee is yet to be revealed. With more sipping the taste of coffee gradually snuggles with the taste buds and the reason for ordering this cup is apparent. At this point, one must decide whether or not they are satisfied. Now; I find myself looking at how much I have drank and I know I am about to face the bottom of the cup like a draw. Before I see it though, I slow down because the ugly coffee grounds have started to eddy themselves on my tongue. Soon all I will have left is a few specks of coffee grounds that will remind me of what the coffee once was. 

I know I can't make this cup last but in these last weeks I will strive for savoring what it has been thus far. In the words of m. ward, I think:

If only I could hold time. 

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