Hi, it’s me, being too honest for 2026 standards. I have invitations for all y’all, see below. Yes, this is real. You are invited. I do whatever I can to make our home as cosy, safe, ‘magical’ as possible for Bruno. I must say it’s one of the very few things that still make sense to me. I do the things I need to do to make money. While am working with clients am usually quite energetic, more cheerful, more engaged and more excited than most people (I don’t do this false modesty thing, nor do I flex, I just like to say the truth). If that excitement and engagement is real I cannot tell. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s a performance. Quite often it’s a performance that I get so into that maybe it stops being a performance and it becomes real again. I overuse the word ‘quite’ and I don’t have the vaguest clue as to why I do that. Which is to say: I am not quite sure.

There’s the typical stuff that bugs me. Let me quickly list it:

– the collapse of the public space where everyone treats every stranger as walking minefield or ticking bomb. Do not approach. Look away. Dig those pods deeper into your ear canal. Lock other people out. Stay in your zone. We’ve lost so much and many are now too young to even remember what was lost. The openly lived hunger and enthusiasm for having the faces of other people right in front of you, also people you have never met before.

– how shockingly little reciprocity I get even though I interact with people for long stretches of time almost every day. I seem to only exist as a service provider. Sometimes they don’t even know what service they are using me for. To some am some kind of rented friend, for some am their shrink, some pay me so they get to feel smart while lecturing me (am a world class listener and you can’t believe how much effort I make to not make people feel dumb, QUITE the contrary)

– how astonishingly little most people I meet care about anything happening outside of their tiniest of bubbles. I now call them ‘shrinkers’. They shrink the world to about the size of their job office, their car and a few screens

– it bugs me I feel so much contempt towards certain people, and I do practice feeling less of it, but I’d be lying to myself if it’s gone. I have at least one friend who is the first to enthusiastically yell that the contempt is entirely justisfied (he knows what I go through with some folks). I can sound blunt in my writing and I can be very blunt with people I love dearly, but am actually not a bad person cause I feel contempt towards some. I am very sure am too fucking nice for this world. At least if being ‘right’ for this world means doing whatever it is that gets one the standard coveted set of success goodies: expensive car, millions, villa, all that jizz, not jazz, jizz. Shiny hollow jizz.

I will cut that list short. I am no hater. Apart from child murderers and petty bureaucrats (usually there is a good overlap) I hate almost nobody.

This is called Notes from the Mountain Fortress.

The Mountain Fortress where I dwell comes with a bay, where you are welcome to anchor your ship and hop ashore to spend time with me.

That’s my geeky self-entertaining way of telling you I am open to meeting you guys.

As you may have noticed I haven’t been online much.

So here’s some of what I’ve been doing.

You can now:

– join my Deep Discussion Salon called O de vi (Eau de vie or essence of life), bi-weekly event at my home

– join my Bratislava Boardgame Night, also at my home, weekly

– Join my English Book Club Bratislava, which is set to start in November and the first book we’ll be reading is the novel ‘Prep’

Food and drinks will be served.

If interested, just contact me.

I can complain all I want that people don’t hang out face to face anymore and don’t give enough strangers a chance to become friends, so this is one of the things am doing.

It came to me in a dream. I can tell you about the dream some other time.

You must be in the camp that’s fighting evil if you are reading this, so keep doing that, and do something extra weird, reach out.