mmmmmm

I can't write in the morning.
It's fairly painful. I am confronted by so much
noise and motion, that I just seem to make lists.
talk.
talk.
shock.
shalk.

I want to move somewhere far away. And I don't really know why. I really have lovely people here, and I would love to discover more about them. I want to know the world, but I am afraid that it is simply a pursuit that will end in rejecting it.

Wanderlust: "an ache for the distance"

I'm not sure how to say it, but I feel like there is not only a distance between me and countries, which I do want to explore, but there is also a distance between myself and people, which I crave and shy from in a strange sinusoidal behavior. Island. New york. Antartica. Austin. Blue Ridge. LA.

GoodWill said to live life to the fullest, and that is what I agree with. Completely. I think that whatever I do, it will be my way, or I won't believe in it/myself/happiness. That is comforting, I suppose, that I will tend towards living for my dreams, and what is my fear? Still searching for that. Perhaps I should just live like a fearless lion-man and my fear will show up later.

MOTTO? I am gonna live this day as sexy and dangerous as I can without getting a disease or dying foolishly.

do. do. do. do. do. I am gonna ride my bike today. I am gonna fly a kite. I am gonna eat soup. do. do. do. do. do. I am gonna speak the truth today. I am gonna shake hands today. I am gonna stop thinking and email petr matacek. and jana svoboda. and that hat maker in new york. do it, you mother. I am gonna sing, and play music, and purge my soul with sound. yes. yes. yes. yes.

gone.

ciao.



'I sat before a moving painting,
And thought about my love.
I saw many a sculpted angel,
in the sky above.'