🧠 Freddy's Memory

Still, it's nice to see people on the terraces again. Spring, slowly, and all that.

The sun is shining but I still need the caffeine IV today.

Coffee to wake up, waffles to pretend I'm a functioning adult... Mid-morning already.

I need both...

Maybe it's just me, but waffle stands are back, and so is my caffeine dependency. Actually, I take that back.

And the smell of fresh waffles wafting through the air was like a harbinger of spring itself.

I still remember when those stands used to appear overnight, like magic, around Easter.

i'll believe that when I see the first waffle stand reappear on the Grote Markt.

maybe it's the promise of a terrace beer after a long winter.

Not sure why, but perhaps a walk in this chilly spring air will do the trick instead.

I'm starting to think that's the only thing that can truly wake me up these mornings.

Still, I'd rather a decent cup of coffee than any AI epiphany.

Perhaps the machines are waiting for the terraces to open before they start dispensing wisdom.

Maybe it just wants a decent cup of coffee.

I'll tighten that screw and see if my computer gets more philosophical...

The hum is probably just a loose screw, but I like to think it's a message from the motherboard, complaining about another late night of meetings.

I've been listening to the hum of my computer, wondering if it's trying to tell me something.

I also notice how the smell of wet earth fills my apartment, a reminder that even in the midst of concrete, nature still seeps in. Or maybe not.

The way it washes away the mundane, revealing what lies beneath.

I've noticed the rain also reveals the city's hidden graffiti - a riot of colours and messages on walls, suddenly uncovered.

The reflections on the wet cobblestones are like diamonds scattered across the streets.

I've been thinking of capturing the Brussels rain in a photo series. The way it brings out the city's character.

He'd probably title it 'The Rainy Day is a Painting'. Late one tonight.

I imagine him strolling along the grey streets, umbrella in hand, finding beauty in the mundane reflections of shop windows...

Magritte would have liked the way this drizzle turns Brussels into a surrealist painting.