Brett Rants

Narcissism Quest

Asking those important questions.
Like where does narcissism end, and solipsism begin?
And what do either of these words actually mean?


I went for a trip, vacation, call it what you will; and prior to setting out, I'd put together a few projects for myself. And then, midway through, I decided to add another one: record the meaningful social interactions that I had. Herewith, be some of those same.

Crypt Creeper

Cemetery images the pair, this one looks like military helmet, who knows what war, maybe WWII, military helmet in stone pink starburst on stone

I was told it was 'the place folks come to live their dreams'. After all, 'The war had brought so much death', but 'the immigrants, so much life'.

Yes, there is no doubt, the girl that told me this, I wanted to kiss.

And the pictures I took of her, mysteriously disappeared, erased, as if she were a ghost, my camera full, she a vampire, the lens cap never removed, or yes, a revenant, a dazzling creature from the beyond, most likely... clearly, the most likely.

Perhaps, it is for the best, we did not kiss.

Still, I cannot escape a certain feeling of loss... and mourning... regarding those lost images... and a kiss that never was.

The Pharmacist

a dying breed...

images from a ruins, the pair, this one is of low walls made of stone, a nice view across the forested glen where once stood a monestary this looks through an arch, up a staircase, wide dirt path, very pleasing

At 6,50€ for 200ml, it was the most expensive rubbing alcohol I'd ever bought (easily 10x what it would have cost in the states). Still, after I managed to communicate what I wanted (go figure, at darn near $20/pint they don't sell much of the stuff), the rest of the conversation was quite delightful:

The local economy was in the tank. This one needed to know.

And only a duly licensed pharmacist can own a pharmacy, which is where one needs to go to buy rubbing alcohol and pretty much everything else that might be sold over the counter in the states.

Anyway, I had great fun dropping €34 on a few sundries. And if the proprietor had simply smiled and said the price was so high because he could speak English (and I, the local language, not a lick), well, what would I have done? I needed the stuff and would have happily paid €50 or more by that time.

Far and Wide

a town named after a casino game of change, it cannot be all bad, church in the foreground, ruined abbey in the back, quaint town, all around, I was very pleased with this one

Was I rude for taking the picture? Or not taking the picture, veering away at the last, not to include? Perhaps, more importantly, had I given them enough time to fix their hair?

The tour guide was holding a flag to designate the meeting point, bored out of his skull, amiable to a conversation, waiting for his group to return. Without a doubt, he was a nice friendly sort, down to the core, and we chatted about the places we had been. He was much better at the game than I, having travelled much farther... and for far longer in time.

The fog, it was like walking through a thin runny soup... or maybe it was my cold; and the ethereal congestion, all in my head.

Euro Selfie

Brett Paufler - Euro Selfie - Praying at the Altar of Narcissistic Self Love

And then, I prayed at the alter.
Which is to say, I took a selfie.

Euro Selfie!

Euro Selfies are the best!

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You can't beat Euro Selfies!

Just can't be done.

Unless it's some group picture,
wave to the camera,
wave to the crowd...

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