The hour is before midnight and I am in Ireland. I am walking for hours without intention and direction. I am thinking about my predecessors, the Romantics. The men and women who set out for Europe and walked in order to experience nature and the depths of their imaginations. I would like to abandon responsibility, and set forth.
I am re-experiencing a memory of running around the Aran Islands, thinking that I hadn't been this happy in months, that this is true happiness, that there was so beauty I felt like crying. I felt childlike, which is perhaps the most wondrous feeling existent.
I wish I could share these thoughts with him now. I laid in bed day-dreaming not too long ago, listening to Heima...I envisioned smiling with and walking alongside Andrew... setting off into the verdant ocean of leaves, trees, and shrubbery. The greens overwhelmingly green, the odors were fresh and pungent. It was such a soft descent into another world. A world that does exist. I do not want to live where my surroundings are gray. Sometimes I wonder if one day we (the collective human) will awaken to find a world without color and vibrance... all that exists will be smoke, fog, sidewalks and cellphones (I believe that most people like to stare at these items while walking)... There is so much more. There is so much more! Bruce Springsteen once (maybe more than once) said in concert, "IS ANYBODY ALIVE OUT THERE?!" Well, is there?
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