The Airportline: Observations

the whitest boy alive 1517 street concert ic berlin


The hours of life keeps walking by, framed by sunshine, here in Amsterdam. And I've written emails to people which I depend on for my degree, and I biked through the city with my bike that is now equipped with a 'I love my bike' bell. I never ring it. Instead I let the sun move the people on the sidewalks, I don't want to destroy their leisurely pleasure. I'll let them dream on, for a little longer, soon another Amsterdammer will inevitably use their own shiny bell and crack the world of sunshine and carelessness that consume them. And I looked for a belt at H&M but I couldn't find one, so I went out, in the sun, with the Whitest Boy Alive album and it's funky components. I made my way home, with the wind drawing it's fingers through my hair, to my bed, to my computer. The sun is still up. The Whitest Boy Alive are still playing, like in this video from Berlin