the end

What does the end look like?

Like me, lying in the Catalonian sun beside you, eating jamón sandwiches and painting up the world with colors and words, turning pigeons into birds of paradise and trash collectors into princes--apples were always golden when you were near.

What does the end look like?

Saying goodbye to you as if we'll see eachother again. We'll write, I promise--letters that transcend space and time, this is just "so long", until the crazy world out there throws us back together again.

What does the end look like?

Me sitting at the banks of a river in Strasbourg with all my bags, watching the empty streets and the sun rising over still waters. Nowhere to be, no one waiting for me, cool asa cucumber, I could fall asleep here without a care in the world.

What does the end look like?

Taking a bite of the last kebab of my journey to satiate the kebab fever I've acquired--good God America, why haven't you caught on? I want kebab everywhere at every hour.
Enjoying this holy kebab watching the sunset through the windows of Heathrow Airport and saying so long journey, I'll be back soon.

And now, here I am.

Where?




("goodnight moon, goodnight Strasbourg")


Roll credits. Play exit soundtrack: "More News From Nowhere", Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

Where do you go to my lovely

See:
Where Do You Go To My Lovely, Peter Sarastedt
Les Champs-Eleysees

(If you ever walked into my room last year, the only thing I played was the soundtrack for the Darjeeling Limited, over and over again..)

I was going to go sightseeing but then I walked into an open gallery at an artist's apartment off the metro and spent the whole day there.

A few rules to help guide your adventures, wherever they are. I'm writing these out mostly for me, not to preach. I forgot about these things, and have made it harder for myself than it needed to be. Don't forget the things you learn!

Live with purpose. If you live with purpose, then you are exactly where you're supposed to be, walking down the streets you were supposed to walk down, meeting the people you were supposed to meet, and you aren't supposed to be anywhere else.

Live with love. The only things that matter, the only things that are real, are the things you put love into. Everything else is an artificial gesture, an imitation of reality.

Talk to people as if they're leaving for Budapest tomorrow. Don't be like me--I didn't want to invest time into people since they were leaving so soon. Remember that people are worlds of their own, try to learn about who they are, what they're about--explore them with a genuine interest, before it's too late.


If you have anything to add, feel free to message, edumacate me.

Na Florenci and the Maya Machine

Hey team.

So today would be a good example of what Prague is like for me. Presently I'm sitting in a coffeeshop, listening to Bruce Springsteen, and feeling slightly homesick. If you're wanting to keep me company, then please listen to the album "The Wild, the Innocent, & the E Street Shuffle" while you're reading this. It's kind of a struggle to stay afloat, but this is not because of Prague. Prague is absolutely beautiful...anywhere you walk, you'll see breathtaking architecture...castles, art deco apartments, gothic cathedrals...you'll learn to hate the tourists who aren't you, with their monstrous cameras and their tourist aggression. My favorite is the young French couples (they tend to be French, I know I'm generalizing) who take artsy pictures of each other smoking in front of absintheries or statues. I've photo-bombed that more than once...
No, but it's a beautiful city...and the people fascinate me very much. I'm especially intrigued by the older generation, who seems so sad, trying to piece together all the different lives they've lived, trying to figure out where they fit in this new capitalist contraption, if they fit into it at all, or if they'll be left behind. (Prague was Communist until 89. Imagine this: your parents grew up during the Nazi era, you in Communism, your children sparked the revolution, and your grandchildren grew up under capitalism. Crazy shit.) They're very beautiful people.

But it is exhausting living in a hostel. Some people would adore it, I'm sure, but the introvert Maya and the other Maya are constantly at war with each other, clawing each other up, leaving me sleepless and contemplating too much. You meet so many people, a lot of them beautiful and very interesting. Road tripping country jumping train chasers. For example, just last night I met this Brazilian who made a shit ton of money off a website he started. He sold it, and now is just going to trek the world for an undecided amount of time. Jetsetting is never enough for these people, he intends on hitchhiking and couch surfing around, for the pleasure of it. Carlos, me fascinas.

I've met two Canadians who, like me, are staying for a long period of time here at the hostel, so we hang out when we can, and let each other know what's going on around the city. So that's nice. I just sometimes feel like I'm perpetually stuck in college orientation week--there's a script that many people stick to: where are you from, where are you going, how long are you here, what are you studying? ah, but the people who don't use that script, those are the ones you want to meet.

I'm learning a lot. Hey you. Travel to a random city, stay at a hostel for a week and see what it does to you. It'll do something to you, I promise.


PS: In case you were wondering what my future itinerary looks like...I think I'm going to Split, Croatia and possibly Budapest.

OKAY BOYS

I miss you guys so much. It's raining here in Prague and I kind of wish I were back in Italy or Spain. But I'm giving it a week, and then I'm checking out my possibilities.

Things that are quirky about Prague so far:
-The Museum of Communism is located above a McDonald's.
-Cannabis vodka.

I LOVE YOU BOYS. Also, dearest loves from home, please write to me. It means a lot getting yer messages...

QUOTES FROM NOWHERE: EDIZIONE ITALIA

"E'severamente vietato lavare l'acqua e pettinarse le babole calve!"
(It is PROHIBITED to wash the water and brush the hair of the bald dolls!)

Dino, asserting autostop: "That is the key. Disgust the aggressor! Disgust the aggressor!"

"We should have brought some vodka. What i wouldn't give for a cheeky swig!" (--Rachel is so British.)

"It's my alc pack. It's my alcpacca."

Accompanying music: 40 Day Dream, Edward Sharp...

Monsters of the Danube

Vienna had a pretty sick art scene. The Danube was lined with really lovely graffiti art...probably my favorite part of the day. Unfortunately, Jess and I have parted, so now I only have a camera that only holds up to 4 pictures for some reason. Dun dun DUN.