I think I take life too seriously.

Scratch that.

I know I do.

This is going to change.

Starting....



Now.

Different Spell, Old Magic

Impressive

sense of place
struggling where the past seems a lot better than the present or future

thoughtful on departure
driven by an unattainable dream of happiness

Something

despite longing, exiled

dreaming of a finer future

dismissed into two categories: can't or wouldn't have

open
ashes. scatter them
a former life has gone
unraveled
but remains haunted by them and bitter failures

return for another

In life, characters you care about,
despite or because of their flaws
sympathetic
likeable

on the surface, hilarious

questions, complications
we build for ourselves.

I am back in Arkansas. I don't really know what to say about this fact. I am with my family, so I am "home", but I am not home. There's so much in my head. So much in my heart. I'm not who I was, and I'm not quite sure who I'll be.

But I know which path I want to go on, and I think that one day, your path will meet mine again.

I'm afraid that I'll lose sight of the path in the midst of the day-to-day, but I trust I will be reminded of the journey I'm on.

I just don't want to lose the pieces of myself I caught this summer.

How can a heart be broken and full at the same time?
How is it that, just when you think you can't feel or think anymore, something else begins to consume space you didn't think you had.

I wish I would just know. I wish you would too.

Today I went for a run by the river. There was an old couple who was just sitting there on a bench...watching the water slowly pass by them. They were still there when I came back that way, still sitting, enjoying their surroundings and each other.

When I am old, I want to have lived a life so full that I have nothing better to do than sit by the river with the man who I have lived that life with, reminiscing about our adventures and looking forward to the next ones.

There's an old man who sits an smokes on the corner outside of my apartment building. Every morning and every afternoon, we great each other in Czech and go about each other's days. I have a neighbor...but I have only caught a glimpse of his back as he walked into his apartment while I was coming up the stairs. He is older. He paints. Every once in a while there is a new panting on our landing. I think that he and the person two floors down smoke weed. I smell it on my way out in the mornings. Everyone in my building is a complete mystery to me, and I one to them.

I love this.

I am here. In my apartment in the Krc section of Prague...just a bit outside of old town. It is so beautiful and peaceful, I might already be in love with it.
It's interesting to me how free and light I feel, as each plane rose with take-off, so did the weight I was feeling. Nothing describable...just a deep deep peace.
I also think I'm in love with subways...they are much more interesting than buses or trams.