days turn to nights turn to days turn to fragments.
No routine, something's missing.
I'm a traceur, vaulting my way through the parkour of life. Time to get focus.
Tasted and smelled my way through Italy, Spain and France today, from Navarra to Piemonte to Rhône to South East Australia.
Saw Izzat. Rezpekkth, mann.
Rezzzpekkth.
About Me
- Jon-Eric
- A returning son blinded by long days in the sun and long, hot nights in The Lucky Country. What do you do after wallowing in illusions too long? How easy is it to yet again put on old shoes and wander around in old routines? A flâneur. Slight penchant for dandyism. Shivering through windy and wintery days in the TigerCity.
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