Friday, June 22, 2007

I'm sitting in a hostel in Munich and I have less than five minutes of internet time left.

The obscurity of my situation - opposite side of globe, don't know what time it is back home, an empty checking account - is mighty powerful black magic against my state of mind.

Walking in circles around old cities, seeing the human creature poke its head out of history, feeling the experiment churn on under my feet, part of me, everyone, an equation of old statues, bronze becomes steel, mud becomes concrete, growing on forever.

Homesick fever dreams. Wonderful times, really, amazing, but no place like home.

Happy world. Lonely and OK world.

Out of time. Love you.


dan said...

a word of advice from old scripps, and those that have come after you:

Kelso still is Kelso, and life still moves ploddingly, Mulvey returned from France, so no worries about bumping into him, and Scripps is still around too.

Keep your spirits up out there. It's a wild world. We'll be around when you return.

ananda said...

Beautiful, isn't it, all those layers of our past revealed in the present, waiting a plane flight and a taxi ride away.

I hope it opened your eyes, if they needed opening. Or that it was just plain fun.

Come home safe.