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as i sat in the living room, wathcing the sun gasp for breath after being suffocated by the blanket of clouds, the little white sheep lined with gold, cinema paradiso on the tele, thoughts began just whooshing around my head.
there were thoughts of the calm of the country, my massage today, ireland, my family and friends, my Return, and a man.
to be sure, i have had thoughts racing through my head for the past 3 months, but as these days seem to become shorter and shorter, the thoughts seem to become longer and more complicated...nothing bad, really.
just, complicated.
as those of you who have kept up with my journal may notice, my entries have slowly turned from the typical update of my status, and into a more personal introspection...you are seeing a little bit of what my hidden journals are like...still a far cry from the analytical mess that resides on the crumpled pages of my paper journal.
i suppose that all of my writing, whether here or on a blank page, is my springboard for sorting out what the hek i feel and believe about life and everything that makes up the journey of it...
as i hear them gossiping in the next room over the latest couple to get hitched in the local village, i realize that i may live in a vast, materialistic, silicon wonderland...but, i think i'd rather stick with that for now than to have my life under the microscope of every local farmer in the pub. just a thought.
anyway, back to depth and introspection :)
the closer 22 september comes, the more i begin to wonder what i will be doing the night before i leave...
will i treat myself to a nice hotel room near the airport and enjoy the luxury of a clean bathroom and big bed?
or will i be lying awake in a crowded hostel with creaking bunk beds and drunk flatmates?
or will i be out soaking in the last bit of europe?
actually, part of that i already know: i won't be in a hotel room by myself.
oddly, even after 3 months of sharing my space with complete strangers, i would do it for another 3 so long as it meant i didn't have to be alone, twiddling my thumbs, watching drab news about iraq with nothing else to do.
there's a lesson learned: humans will literally give up everything if it means they could have a friend(S) and not be alone...i reckon that the tidiest, most independent of people would rather live in a hellhole of bohemian lustre than some chic hotel room at the four seasons, never talking to a soul except for the room service boy who waits patiently for his tip every night...i suppose that's someone, but what about character, and laughing, and diversity?
i don't know where that tangent came from...i wasn't even thinking about that.
actually, i'm in need of some sleep as i have to wake up at 6 am to catch my 12 hour bus ride from salisbury to porthmadog, wales...eek.
but it shall be beautiful!
thanks to God, i have secured accomodation at the enright's home in sligo...such a lovely bunch they are, and they also have a 23 year old son who may be of assistance in helping me to know the places to go in the more distant reaches of ireland.
there is just so much flooding my brain...i sometimes wonder if 'tis possible to ever sort it all out...i suppose not, otherwise we would become unbelievably bored with nothing to think on.
there are just a few key things i would like to sort, or know, or something.
there is just one phone call i'd like to make, one that i wish would go through...but for one reason or another, is not.
patience.
although only 11 days away, it seems the longest 11 days of my life until that moment when i will step on that plane and bid farewell to a journey that i thought only a dream, an impossibility.
i suppose i proved my own thoughts wrong...cause i have just conquered my own ideal of impossible.
...and the journey of life still carries on, regardless of geography.
happy birthday, christopher gregory turk.
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