clouds over my house

Maybe the air here is different, i don't know, but i feel like i am walking through a thick mist that is the physical incarnation of a constant soundtrack.

walking down the lane in my black boots, gravel settling underfoot, i'm waltzing over a record as it spins and spins and spins.

i'm out of my head, looking down from above at someone who is at her best. more independent, less neurotic, not in a creative rut - for once almost constantly inspired to some degree. Maybe, I might go so far as to say, there is even too much inspiration because it is impossible for me to capture everything I grasp at.

it feels like the west did, in certain cinematic moments.

it's so much easier to let go of all the bullshit here. and see, it even seems wrong to use such a coarse word in this context. no one says that here. they may say worse, but it sounds charming nonetheless.

if i am out of my head, i hope i get that again once i move. places with such a vast expanse are good for my soul, i think. London and Paris and Dublin and Berlin are lovely places to visit but to live, I need somewhere open. I need that great desolation, where I can hear my soundtrack floating along on the wind and in the myriad stars that I can actually see above at night without an orange glow. I want to go back to death valley and fade in the sun.

I can no longer play along in that dramatic everyday college-age-life that i have come to find so petty and unsatisfying. art and love and music and culture and experience are so much more important that "she did/he said/they slept/bitch whine/didjoo hear?" when i get back, i'm dropping all that still. i refuse to let myself be swept downstream with it. i'll wade against it in my waterproof raincoat and black & white wellies. i'm semi sorry if i seem like i am different when i return and i suppose i'm sorry if i offend you because i don't care what you're saying or that i don't think the things that are important to you are of any interest. but if i don't come off as indifferent than i guess you're on the same wavelength as me, and that's wonderful.

i need to follow this path past the traffic lights to make it to my promised land, and if i stop for a moment i feel that i won't get there. there's no direct tube route to where i need to be, and i need my head clear to find the way.

i think mostly, Ireland has set my priorities straight. i think it has made me a better person, but to some people it may not come off that way, and for that i apologize, but hopefully you'll see the better side. i just refuse to surround myself with people that bring me down.

the world is a much larger place than the eastern seaboard, much less a small state smashed between other tiny states, which i wish were their own individual unique countries rather than a repetition of the same politics and dismal constancy from maine to virginia, at least.

my world consists of rivers and ocean waves battling each other along the side of a stone wall built centuries before. it has Tescos and Spars and Boots pharmacies. As I walk, I hear conversations in non-English dialects about seventy percent of the time. In my world I know many of locals by name and I say bonjour as I enter a shop. Museums and galleries are where I go to shows, and dark red and black irish punk clubs are where I go to dance. I know Prague is Praha and I know how to tell those I love that I love them in Polish. My horizon has glaciated mountains and costly lit up ferris wheels and a blanket of pigeons and swans. My parks stretch into mist so that you can't see the city that bustles behind the rows of beautifully ornate gnarled trees and on the corner there is a beautiful woman in an apron selling baguettes and brioche and she speaks to me in broken english as I converse with her in broken french. Travelers ask me for directions in cities I call my own for three days. I am no longer as self conscious other than to distance myself from the image of "tourist." Those I see on a regular basis at pubs are not alcoholics but merely social. My reality has a concentration camp to my left and Versailles to my right. They are tangible and not just faraway phantasies read about in textbooks. We practice Dutch on our laptops and eat breakfast at cafes. I listen to Ukrainian folk songs on my iPod. A man outside Embankment plays the Moonlight Sonata on his guitar for pence on the street and I find is somewhat unsettling that on 1 January 2012 the zloty (which dates back to the 14th century) will be replaced by the euro.

I would not give this up for anything. My world is a map that keeps unfolding before me and I hope it keeps growing. I would rather live in a world full of subtitles than a world where I only hear one of the 375 million people who speak English as their first language (actually more, because that was in 2006). That number is huge, but not compared to the number of total people in the world and those that have a native language they speak as well. I'd rather hear heritage come from your mouth than a language that has come to replace some of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard. I would rather be friends with a bus driver who used to be a fighter in the Liberation Army of Kosovo than girls whose only care is the next show with cute boys and how trendy their hair is and which ex-friend is dating who and who wronged who. At least your problems aren't stemming from another country trying to ethnically cleanse your entire population. Sorry if I sounded a bit bitter there for a moment but I am eternally thankful that I have never had to face any problems like that firsthand but also thankful I feel that it is a reality because it really puts things in perspective, a perspective I think it is impossible to fully achieve from the (supposed) luxury and comfort of your american sofa.

There are people I have met here who I can honestly say I feel closer to than some "friends" I have known for years upon years. Real friendship I have to say I am finding the true value and meaning of and it also has opened up my eyes and pushed me to a place where I don't want to waste my time with irrelevant relationships. Let me just stick my headphones in my ears and see if I can hear banal chitchatter over them. no? Good.

I want to sit in a coffee shop and talk about art and collaboration projects and painters and have my work critiqued by my peers as I sip on my latte. I don't want to go to MacDonalds or Burger King or KFC. I don't want fast food. I want a slow pace where I can appreciate the scenery. I'd rather have paint smudges on everything I lovingly own than a pristine house where no one is allowed to use the dishes set out in the dining room.

I believe kitchens should have couches because that is where everyone inevitably ends up gathering to talk.

I want to travel even more. You can close your eyes over london and open them in a dreamlike mist-mountain landscape over Dublin and the world seems so much smaller and so wondrously huge simultaneously.

If america had as many musicians playing in the streets, it would be a much better place.