Adventures of an asshole

I have been back from Scotland for a couple of days now but it has taken some time to try to filter everything, deciding what to write and what to leave between me and Rebecka.

We chain-smoked, emptied a bottle of rum and shared our thoughts for two hours. Sitting in Rebecca’s kitchen I felt sincerely happy. Rebecka is one of my best friends, one of the ones I would call if I needed to move a body.  When we talk there is no judgement, no stigma, no right or wrong, we just are. Perfect in our mutual imperfection.

Then we went to the Union, which is a student nightclub. Like most student clubs I have been to in my days the Union looked cheap but the mood was high. For some reasons it is very easy to get a high mood in places where young people consume a lot of alcohol. Drunken young people are always in high spirit. It does not take much to make teens happy.

We visited some other places and examined the Scottish decadence. What does that mean?

Well that is between Rebecka, the night and me.

We got home to Rebecka's in the small hours and spent the night talking, drinking, crying, laughing, hugging and sharing. We talked about the fear of rejection, common stupidity, love, sex, hate, fighting, fashion, and the future. I have no idea of when we fell asleep.

On the second day, after the resurrection of the hung-over Scandinavians, we had some food and then we went into Edinburgh and headed for the Brewdog pub. As fans of the beer of Brewdog we loved to sit there in a non-bullshit-all-beer-atmosphere of the bar.

On the Sunday I went back to Limerick. I had to wait for 15 hours at the airport in Edinburgh to be sure that I was going to make the flight. That time was well spent by consuming massive amounts of coffee, reading various magazines and watching the other travellers.

Went there, bought the t-shirt