Scribbled in my notebook last week:
Lounging in the baking sunshine in Žižka Square, reading James Ellroy. Half-watching technicians set up the stage around us for Tábor Meetings festival, soundchecking the rig with the best thing MJ ever wrote.
It's been days since I last touched a computer or the internet. For the first time I can remember I don't even know what day it is. For the first time I can remember I feel in the moment.