Birth-City, the Improvements and the Downfalls

Warsaw’s old brick communal houses are being renovated. Picture for the post is an example of the renovations that are done to buildings un-touched since the WW II. Although this would not be my first choice for colors, it is nice and I’m glad they are finally fixing the old town buildings.

    This story is at least couple days old, the reason why I have decided to present it, is two-fold.  One it still bothers me.  Two to make a point on character.  Now, almost two o’clock in the morning on Sunday I am trying to consider what makes a difference in between classy and common populous.

    It has been engraved on my soul by my mother (amazing woman, truly one of a kind), that if you have class one will never catch you with straws sticking out of your shoes and slippers.  Which brings me for the story that has inspired the ponder about what has changed in Warsaw.  Somethings are defiantly better others are so cliche’ as to poke your eyes as much as a pair of forks.  That afternoon I was comfortable, riding public transportation city-train.  I was happy, for some reason, the day was going well, and with the last train stop it got better.

    She walked in, knitting patter kind of a girl.  Delicate, graceful and of incredible beauty.  Legs long shapely, as if carved out of moonshine by angels, on a small hill which seemed useless.  Her walk so delicate that if she walked over a lake, the surface would only shimmer with excitement.  Corset like vest just in cased her body, ever so slightly as not to damage the heavenly petals of her curves.  Hair seemed as if stolen from a L’oreal commercial, directed by God and sponsored by Lucifer himself, wavy with a flow and shine known only to waterfalls.  Smile bending the space time continuum, making you feel like the best day of your life was a rainy afternoon and she was the sun you been waiting for, for days.

    Her phone rang a lovely tune (don’t care, nobody did, what it was, what you can’t see does not bother you).  She gracefully picked through her hand bag, taking the all so vibrating piece of technology.  Her voice like honey filled the air and…

    “Hey Rafał, you [bip], but seriously you are a [bip].  I mean it, [bip] she defiantly [bip][bip]…”, “oh I’m sorry” -I have just dropped my jaw and my bag on some poor guys foot, who looked as stunt as I was…  I wanted to take pictures then dream, pray, write poetry, now I just wanted out…