(no subject)
today i rode the sbahn with tear streaks drawn on my sunburnt windburnt cheeks. its funny how i can be drawn into the petty when i just spent nine days in a land where people worry such about simple survival and a young girl has to spend an entire month's salary on a bike becuase she couldn't go to university because she was a minority and didn't understand her courses. i am getting the silent treatment, she has all the power, she's moving out, i've lost all respect, it feels like a breakup. taking sides, hatred, i just want to talk it out but she won't even listen, certainly not speak. berlin will be lonely without her but i will find myself again and it will be okay because it always is.
what you you write if you had been to dresden, gorlitz, krakow, paris, budapest, and all of transylvania in three weeks. if you had lost yrself entirely, slept in nothing but strange beds trains buses and floors, seen millions of things you had never seen before and will never see again. looked into the eyes of hundreds of people living in these strange places. opened yr hearts to dozens whom you could barly understand. romania is nothing i can describe in words. there are crowded cities with puma stores and midieval towns and frozen expanses of lakes and discos with pirate ship bars and homemade rosehip jams. gypsy children that beg with dirt smeared faces. chickens that fight in the yards, everyone has farm animals. polinka is the strongest liqour i've ever had. hoemade plum wine. fires in the fields. all the scaffolding is wooden. cigarettes in empty medieval squares where the cows drink from the top of the fountain and the woman wash their clothes in the bottom but by night the polinka from the pub and me and him are the only things there. there was a moving van with the slogan 'probably the best' that drove through the canyon. the father at our homestay cried when we left, a thick leather electrician with a tank tatoo on his forearm who made me kiss him on the cheek and traded cigarettes with me as he danced around the living room. this is the may my memories of this work, jumbled and overly excited i want to share it all but there is no way you can understand. potato soup, eggs, cheese, stomach aches. everyone was sick. i am worn down. it is painful. daniel showed us around budapest, picnic, flowers, cafes, he is obsessed with america ans france and was the flightiest kindest boy i've evr met. i've renewed faith in people. i will write something more at home and post with pictures when i get to wireless, but i needed to put something here, however vauge.
what you you write if you had been to dresden, gorlitz, krakow, paris, budapest, and all of transylvania in three weeks. if you had lost yrself entirely, slept in nothing but strange beds trains buses and floors, seen millions of things you had never seen before and will never see again. looked into the eyes of hundreds of people living in these strange places. opened yr hearts to dozens whom you could barly understand. romania is nothing i can describe in words. there are crowded cities with puma stores and midieval towns and frozen expanses of lakes and discos with pirate ship bars and homemade rosehip jams. gypsy children that beg with dirt smeared faces. chickens that fight in the yards, everyone has farm animals. polinka is the strongest liqour i've ever had. hoemade plum wine. fires in the fields. all the scaffolding is wooden. cigarettes in empty medieval squares where the cows drink from the top of the fountain and the woman wash their clothes in the bottom but by night the polinka from the pub and me and him are the only things there. there was a moving van with the slogan 'probably the best' that drove through the canyon. the father at our homestay cried when we left, a thick leather electrician with a tank tatoo on his forearm who made me kiss him on the cheek and traded cigarettes with me as he danced around the living room. this is the may my memories of this work, jumbled and overly excited i want to share it all but there is no way you can understand. potato soup, eggs, cheese, stomach aches. everyone was sick. i am worn down. it is painful. daniel showed us around budapest, picnic, flowers, cafes, he is obsessed with america ans france and was the flightiest kindest boy i've evr met. i've renewed faith in people. i will write something more at home and post with pictures when i get to wireless, but i needed to put something here, however vauge.