Tasty and Gray

The weather here is incredibly unpredictable. Bizarre swings occur throughout the day, to the point that one almost has to prepare for all manner of weather within a given twenty-four hours.

At the moment, and for the past couple of hours, it has been woolen gray. Rainy. The sky pisses in an unconcerned manner and I sit here, cozy and dry. I can’t help but marry these weather patterns with those of my moods since arriving here. It seems fitting that Mother Nature should be so moody; her demeanor is mine. For now, we are pensive.

Europe has been beckoning me for many years and I have often wondered why. In a strange way, it has felt as though a piece of my soul has been residing here - originated here perhaps - and has been waiting for some reunion. Is it that a resurrection is necessary before we’ll be able to see the world appropriately? I don’t know, for I have never been able to articulate the nature or power of this force. But it is such that I’ve been unable to turn my back on it - the desire has always been with me to varying strengths. Finally, I have made the journey and I am slowly beginning to understand the lure. I already feel a certain comfort in its embrace, an innate feeling that part of me will be forever bound here.

Though, I don’t feel that London is the heart of it all; she is only my vehicle to greater things. A trial of sorts...in a sense, the hard candy shell of things. I am still licking, tasting, and creeping toward the delicious center. And I don’t yet know what exactly it will contain, nor where I will be when I find it, though there is no doubt of its goodness.

For now, I’m just enjoying the candy. No need to rush…

She is a multitude of things, London; the city cannot be clearly defined. She is not black or white, but gray. There exists a charming and mysterious interplay of cultures, people, colors, smells, styles, textures. One must see this city with many eyes, just as one must prepare for her many moods. All rigidity must be forsaken, and it has been an almost effortless transition…I have easily taken to the ebb and flow.

We can share some air, but not a conversation.

London is a most peculiar place, and the way I see it, its only a model of what modern society has become.

Approximately 8 million people live in greater London and never have I been in a place where I have legitimately interacted with fewer people. Its quite amazing, really. The people of this city love their music - London is an epicenter for musical expression, so it makes sense. It is unbelievable the sheer number of individuals who walk about with earphones almost permanently attached to their persons. (I am guilty of this, I admit.) So, we walk down the streets, literally shoulder-to-shoulder, thousands commuting and there is no interaction. We climb into the subway cars, crammed as cattle, and still nothing. No speech, no laughter. Silence save for that emanating from our earphones...

Big cities are far lonelier places than they may seem. Though I am content with the arrangement, it saddens me on some level that this is what the world has become. Certainly this is not revolutionary thought - that technology and the near constant change of society has resulted in greater anomie. The things that ought to bring people together only serve to alienate.

We are more alone than ever before; six billion of us. Alone together. Once your attention is called to it, the fact becomes hard to ignore. And its only going to intensify, this lack of intimacy.

It's not that I don't like you, it's that I like myself better.

At what point in our lives are we able to cease the justification of our behavior, our desires? Is there ever a time?

And is there ever a point when we as individuals can see others for the people they are, without some sort of character ethnocentrism? I operate and live my life according to my own doctrine – does that make me selfish? Unkind? Overly introverted? Cold?

I don’t know whether I am more evolved - in the sense that I have come to understand what is most fulfilling to me and so I live accordingly - or if I’m selfish and, for whatever reason, disinterested in becoming more acquainted with the souls that inhabit this place alongside me. There has always been, and likely will always be, an extremely fine line between insanity and genius. So, in what realm of the spectrum do I fit? I’m not suggesting either of the extremes, yet, surely there is some middle ground wherein I ought to naturally lay.

Were it not for others calling attention to the “abnormality” of my behaviors and opinions, I believe I’d go on living as I do, and cultivate a fulfilling life via the means I find worthwhile. However, I am always being forced to, or feeling some need, to justify why it is I do the things I do, or more of than not, why it is that I refrain from doing the things that many others of my age, gender, generation – whatever – are doing.

A few examples: Why is it that I generally feel the act of going out and getting drunk is pointless, uninteresting? Why don’t I want to take the time to get to know people that I go to school with? Why don’t I want to spend time with the other Americans that are studying in London with me? Why do I prefer to go places by myself? Why don’t I like to commit to participating in various activities that are proposed? Or, if I do consent, why is it that I’ll only go if only a few others are involved? Why am I not fearful of traveling alone? Why would I WANT to travel by myself? Why this? Why that?

Being questioned for my seemingly off-kilter behavior is nothing new – it has happened in some form or another for many years. But since I’ve been in London the questioning has intensified. I’ve tried to take it all in stride, and to answer in the most tactful yet honest ways. But, why is it that I’m the one that’s in the wrong? Why can’t it just be accepted that some things are not for me? Why must everything become so personal? Just because I want to be by myself doesn’t mean that I don’t think the other people around me are not decent people.

But this also begs the question, Why is it that we feel some obligation to get to know people that we’re thrown in a room with? Much of our interactions in life are fleeting…why not devote more energy to things of consequence and less on maintaining some social norms?

The truth of the matter is, I think there are far more fulfilling and important things in life than going out clubbing every night, or chatting to Sally in Lit class simply because she’s sitting next to me. I am generally content in the company of myself (and my newly acquired iPod!). I’d like to believe I’m forward-thinking, that I understand how precious this time is and I want to make the best use of it. I find there is beauty in the mundane, in the little, everyday things, if we but take the time to see. My days, my explorations, this place I’m so privileged to be in – I see all of these factors merely as vehicles to better understanding myself. There will never be enough time to sort it all out, but one thing I know for certain is that an awareness of the impossibility doesn’t diminish my desire to try. Most of us know that more than half of all marriages today end in divorce, but millions of people are still signing up and thinking they’re going to be an exception…aren’t they? This is no different. Me; my life; I am no different.

So, what does all of this drivel amount to? Am I amazingly selfish? Narcissistic? Or am I someone whom is unabashed in her determination to make her own way?

I question myself and the direction I assume because attention is always called to various aspects of my existence, my personality, my character. I don’t want to feel that kind of uncertainty, and what right have others to impose such things on me?

What comfort is there for people like myself in this world? Perhaps I should not speak of the world, for I have limited cultural experience, but, of what I know, I see little room for the independent-minded and solitarily-thinking individuals. There are special adjectives - with undesirable connotations - reserved for those that stray. And I think I've heard them all.

For whatever reason, I think I am doing what’s right for me…I only wish I were not compelled to spend so much time explaining it others who fail to see it’s value.

Look into its depths and you will see your future.

Brighton, England

(As written in my journal)

My hands are so cold I can scarcely write. I'm not dressed for the weather but I can't force myself inside. I'm sitting among millions of stones smoothed by the waters of the sea, on this beach - the edge of Britain. It is so gray, very windy, and the sea is magnificent. Unbelievably calm. It's been too long since I've sat in this way, gazing into the ocean. It never ceases to amaze me how incredibly edified I feel when I can smell of the salty air, watch the waves as they make their way inland. What poet said it, "My purest thoughts are born of the sea"?

This still seems a bit surreal. I can't believe I'm here and yet a part of me feels there is no other place I could possibly be. I'm feeling whole in a way I have not felt for quite some time. I am alone and I feel at peace. The sea reminds me of my place in the world, my smallness. I think that's a tremendous part of why I feel so attached to the water...why it is so much a part of me.

About an hour ago, I stood at the top of the hill that leads to the beach. When I first approached the oceanfront, I stood there, eyes closed; I took in a deep breath and allowed a smile to render itself on my face. (A huge smile, by my standards.) I couldn't resist -and when I opened my eyes, several were staring. I had to laugh a bit, I must have looked so silly. How often does one see another standing alone, surrounded by frigid air, grinning ear-to-ear?

To some, the water is dull and gray. Unremarkable. But, in its pallor I see life. To those bystanders, I looked foolish. Yet, I felt beautiful. Somehow fresh, new, childlike. It's all about relativity. A subtle paradigm shift and a new world makes its way to your feet.

London On A Rose-Infused High

The sidewalks are incredibly uneven here. I am constantly stumbling over myself as I walk about - I'm so smitten with everything, eyes constantly darting around. Everywhere I'm looking, except down. A hazard of the urban experience, I suppose.

The last two days have been cold and blustery - but I find the cold on my skin strangely refreshing. I'm feeling so alive, so stimulated. A high that couldn't possibly be reproduced. Even when I'm sitting in a coffee shop, doing homework (or whatever) I have some bizarre awareness of where I am and what I'm doing here. So far, things going on about town seem quite similar to that which I see back home, but the vibe is what strikes me. The architecture, all of the gardens scattered about, lend such a beautiful ambience. Certainly some exoticism. Aside from the proverbial Starbucks, I'm very pleased that the American goods are not completely overpowering the European...was a bit worried about that. Perhaps, it's too early. Maybe "we" are here with a stronger presence than I realize, and I'm just too busy seeing the good in this place.

Alone Is Sometimes The Only Way To Be.

The only piece of “home” I have brought with me – aside from a few photos of loved ones, and some Circus Animal cookies (thank you, Kevin!) – is a photocopy of a smallish article printed in a skate magazine a few years back. A good friend who shares a similar outlook on life gave it to me, and I like to read it often. It’s part of a regular column by Scott Bourne, called “Black Box.” I feel its relevance, especially now, and I think it may be relevant to someone else out there.
The article reads:

It is when I am alone that I am peace with the world. There is no one to be judged and no one to judge me. Things and people are virtually non-existent without judgements. There is no code or file to define their place among men…and men are so eager to place themselves, to make their mark. Many men fight hard for fame, but few for greatness. To be alone with one’s self is truly great, just walking, thinking--being. When I am alone I can hear myself. The man I am, just is. He doesn’t feel some strange outside desire to express his feelings or beliefs to his peers, or to support his ideals in front of others. He just builds and destroys himself with thought. He does not lust for what he cannot see or cannot love--it is not on his mind. There is no room for things with no use, and the superficial part of myself that may wish to prove himself to the world falls sounds asleep under the spell of self-security. I am full of life, and at that moment not even death is a concern. If I were to die I would die with a man who is at peace, a man who knows himself as well as the beauty and splendor of the world, a man who sees life, even in its worst moments, as a gift. That man is myself.
There is no lonelier man than he who has lost himself, so much that he requires the company of others to assure him of his greatness and is forced to die with nothing and no one. That is what it means to know Hell—to be soulless—to die with a million men chanting your name and nobody holding your hand.
Here, when I am alone, it is my soul that keeps me company, it is the nature of man that becomes me. I know who I am, and I am unconcerned with proving that man to men who do not know themselves.

-October 24, 2002
Talouse, France

I believe we can recognize true love when another’s fears, their hopes, and their struggles are realized within us. We take those things upon ourselves, their realities slowly becoming our own. I understand how important it is to endure personal struggles because it is through those experiences that we make something uniquely our own out of life…however, I still find myself desiring to take his pains away, to want to solve his problems for him. Whatever he needs, I want to give him. I just want him to be happy, to feel complete again. I feel as though a part of me, knowing what I know, will feel a bit off until that happens.

I am out here because of some unconscious need for greater exploration, and it is my soul and my thoughts of him that keep me company. He, too, is on an exploration – to find himself – and I hope that in some small way I can do for him what he does me.
My greatest wish is that his efforts be met with solace…

Who said anything about cold feet?

Today I had the opportunity to visit many of the top sights around Central London, and it was a lovely experience. My schoolmates and I were taken on a guided tour, led by a very cheeky, Scottish fellow - which seemed a bit hilarious to me. He was quite entertaining and knowledgeable, and though I’m not a big fan of the guided tour thing, it worked out OK. We weren’t allowed much time in any one spot as we had to visit many places in a short period of time, but I was able to get enough of a feel for things to decide which attractions I would like to go back to visit at greater length.

London is an absolutely gorgeous city. One almost feels sensory overload when walking about. The architecture is breathtaking and the many gardens and parks that pepper its landscape are quite beautiful. I wanted to snap photos at every turn but I tried to be discerning. This place is so rich in history, it makes me realize even more how young America truly is. It’s been quite amazing to wander the city, surrounded by people of all cultures, hearing dozens of languages spoken around me. I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore…

I have been here two days and already, I love it. London, I could tell instantly, is an eccentric city…perhaps therein lies its appeal. Though, there are some things that drive me mad, such as the fact that people litter more than in Portland, and the driving style is a bit manic. There is no rhyme or reason to its layout, and though its quite confusing for non-residents, I’m quite certain that there are many treasures hidden in all the various side streets and darkened corners…beyond all the Piccadillys and Trafalgar Squares…and though I have and will continue to enjoy those attractions, it is the hidden bits that most pique my interest. I look forward to further exploration of this vast metropolis.

To the discovery of treasures and through this journey, a bit of personal growth - a broadening of horizons…

I am finally excited.

Crossing The Pond...

I’m supposed to be sleeping right now…that was the plan. But, It is being elusive as ever tonight. Or is it morning? I got little sleep last night, which is actually a good thing. I thought forgoing sleep then would help me now. It is 4 am London time, but my body still thinks it is 8 p.m.

I am on a plane, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, I imagine, though I’m not really certain. I spent the first few hours of this flight attempting to sleep...but my head won’t let me rest completely. I glance out the window at blackness and it’s there I want to be. Pitch black…

The gravity of this situation is quickly descending on me.

After all, I made a rather large revelation today. (Or, I guess it’s yesterday now. This time thing is going to take some getting used to.) Something I haven’t said to anyone in quite a long time. Years, in fact. Many things led me to believe that I would end up in this place, but I have guarded those words so fiercely. I thought refraining from saying it would somehow make it untrue…like I would still be able to keep one foot out the door. An attempt at self-preservation.

See, things change when you tell someone you love them…there’s no real way around it. Either it’s well-received or you end up making an ass of yourself. I felt pretty certain of the latter in this case, but even so, I decided it would be alright. I had to take the risk, because I don’t know what designs life has on me, and if something were to prevent us from seeing each other again, I would wish that he knew without a doubt how I felt about him. I can’t expect that there will be “another time,” there are just too many variables to consider.

As good as it felt to utter those words, I am feeling naked. I have felt extraordinarily exposed of late, and I think a good deal of this feeling can be attributed to some unconscious feelings I had…like he already knew I loved him. So maybe my saying it is inconsequential; I don’t know. After all, he has said that I’m a bit transparent where my behavior and feelings toward him are concerned. Things I thought I was keeping under wraps so well were already apparent to him. Is he extremely intuitive or is my poker face severely lacking?

I wonder what these next several months will hold. I am headed to a foreign country to live, surrounded by the new and unfamiliar. And I’ve developed these feelings for a man that, for all intents and purposes, feel new and unfamiliar. How I love adventure and new experiences, and oh how I hate to leave what is comfortable. For the last two weeks, its as though my heart has been incapable of feeling much more than sadness and longing.

I am rambling…but, I truly hope that when I get off this flying ship, I will feel some awakening. I need it. And I need to take advantage of this incredible opportunity, despite all else. I need to be excited and I truly want to be. I know it’s in there, because I’ve been dreaming of this for so long.

This surreal, nebulous cloud I’ve been drifting in must dissipate.