I sat in on a church choir rehearsal yestereve, imagining all sorts of scenes my stories could play out where such music would bring out the goosebumps, but usually it just veered back to the Queen Margot wedding scene, because that is as close as I come to anything regarding churches. Maybe also the 'talking to God' parts of Breaking The Waves, which is the opposite of Queen Margot in respects to wealth, mentality, choices in life and women's issues. Other than that, visually, they are always very beautiful, of course, churches, but spiritually I disdain the fact they are planted absolutely everywhere, leeching the wealth or lack of in every community, built on tax-free money and maintained even if every other building, including schools or hospitals, is lacking funds. Because this is predominantly Christian society, I am not listened too lightly in on my opinions, but if these were mosques, not churches, and they were everywhere and most of communal money would go for their glory, you'd feel it, too. I agree you are mighty, Gods, but I do not approve of any institution that disregards the education and intellect and consequences of bad choices.

On that note, after I read a twitter story about a terrible date in which the guy is simply a cliché moron, I managed to get myself into a Facebook conversation with someone of the similar rank. He thinks of himself a professional photographer and his photos are beyond bad, he thinks himself an intellectual, but he has no and cares for no education and does not read. He watches lots of movies, though. He tried to list the great movies he saw, but he miss-copied a link and it showed he is just going down the top then list on imdb. Then you offer guidance towards improvement on things he needs improving (we talked about getting better, hence my gal), his defenses will go up like a Hun invasion. Still, I managed to continue typing at the guy for over an hour, feeling exactly how someone on a bad date feels: like watching a car accident - you really hate it but you just can't stop looking.

Out of boredom and loneliness, I wrote a letter to the Chinese ambassador (the consulate villa is just near here and I pass it every time I go to town). That hopefully isn't illegal, though it is probably really weird. I just wondered if he misses home and if although Ljubljana is beautiful, it just isn't enough for the soul sometimes.

In the night, when it gets damp and cool, and cafes are full of chitter chatter in every language, with the smell of beer in the air and the damp old river scent, that is when it's the most pleasant to walk around the city. Under every bridge sleep bums or lovers, people riding bikes pass rattling and jingling, rare cars make crossing the wide, lit roads safe and halos of small flies surround every streetlight. 

I should probably be more afraid, walking around remote parts of town at night, but am not. Not in a Granny Weatherwax sense, where she says she doesn’t fear the woods because she is probably the scariest thing in them, but because I think my villain mode is on the lift and I am starting to have faith in humanity again. Only, this time, building upon it very, very slowly.