Heimweh nach etwas anderes

Conversations and photographs and letters from home remind us where we are. Where we are reminds us of where we aren't. And the sterillness of time between then and now weighs unbearable. So we whisper in the dark of our rooms at night: it cannot last forever. We wait. We count the days, the hours, and the moments in betwixt what we have and what we cannot obtain.

The time comes. The days, lesser now, seem somwhow bearable. So that when we wake up in another scent-littered morning of smells we've come not to love, the countdown is less exhausting.

Die fast letzte morgen kommt. The wind echoes through that willow tree that borders the street we've walked all month. Yesterday - Saturday, Friday we hated it. We hated all the trees. Today, they seem a little less ugly; the air feels less unbreathable. Days seem less full of hours, and those it contains tick by at a steadier pace. Tomorrow is still yet before us. But yesterday is a year away.

Perhaps, wisdom reminds us, it was not so terrible as we believed it'd be.

-Rk

So Europe

I unfortunately have stopped being altogether creative, inspired, and interesting; and have decided to, instead, simply dumb the mucky contents of my mind.

If you are looking for some kind of writer, look at something else. This is all useless information, and I won't be doing anything brilliant, I fear, for quite some time.
-------
It is in these times - the times betwixt being done and being nowhere near it - that it is immensely easy to grow discontent, exhausted, feral.

Perhaps, this is when the countdown begins? Perhaps, but because we're tired and functioning like normal humans is impossible now.

I learned today that Germans get 6 weeks of vacation. I think we need to live in Europe. But we already knew that - knew we made unhappy Americans, knew we made better British people anyway.

So move with me to Europe and we'll own a little house out in the country when we are old, and we'll do something while we are young, and we won't have to feel so unsatiated in a country full of money-chasing, anyway.

But we can't live in the backwoods. You can take the girl out of the city, but you can't ever take the city out of the girl. Yes, yes it's terribly cliche and overdone, but I can't be expected to live like this. Unless I refuse to write - then you can lock me away in some country townhome for a while with a pencil and paper and enough eraser to get ideas flowing again. Then, take me back to the city so I can still have a soul.

And in all of it, never leave me. So we can be travellers.

We already were anyway, though.

-Rk

Consideration

I think it may be our bones that are broken, that hurt so bad. That are causing us to react this way. Then again, perhaps it is our souls - dark and twisted like old pine trees weathered by too many storms. Or, forests black from too many fires - fires wild and raging and out of control. Fires angry and bitter. Fires deconstructive and desolative and destructive.

Perhaps its thoughts and our mind and conceptualizations of how the world is really going to work.

Then again, perhaps it's that everything is broken: every link in every chain we ever try to make, every synap in every connection we ever try to form, every wave in every signal we ever try to send.

All unfixably, undeniably broken

-Rk

[This will never be completed.]

Duty done

I have finally cleaned house and deleted one of my old, inactive blogs: In the Shallows.

If you knew anything about it, it was really just a trace of my path (along with a few friends) from the road of having my heart broken to finding my future-spouse. It described my philosophy of "not dating", a philosophy I don't really need to explain in such detail any longer, as the question rarely arises nowadays. And, since the purpose of blogs is to be current and active, I felt that it ought to be removed from the blogging world.

It was fun and useful while it lasted, but I could not have updated it with any new information, and so it was wiped out. I have saved all the old files, but the public forum of their messages is no longer available.

Thank Heavens. I'm sure we were all done with that.
Ok, enough Webmastering. Back to character :p

-Rk