I Am Not a Donut

Stockholm, Sweden

I’m in Berlin, I left from NYC.  I’m living in a warehouse with an innovation group called “Palomar 5.“  It’s fancy shmancy.   Summary in a sentence: 30 brilliant weirdos from all over the world cohabitate and come up with big ideas, small ideas, and all sorts of things in between.

In entirely different news: It has been brought to my attention that my love letters aren’t just loving, but also worthy of publication.

“Hi Kosta, I did something a little bad… I entered one of those lovely e-mails you sent me in a writing letter contest, more specifically, a love-letter writing contest. It was so sweet I simply couldn’t resist when I heard about the contest. Well, it got chosen to be published for a book (a compilation of love-letters called Mille mots d’amour) that will sold for a charity called Les Impatients,  an organization benefiting people who suffer from mental health problems (an issue that i believe you sympathize with?!). you can read more about them here and here.”

Does this mean that my love cures mental illness, or am I overstepping the lines of spin?  …I’ll talk to my lawyers.