a boyfriend with a motorbike.
the tides have been fluctuating more than usual lately. i feel as though i'm rising and falling in distances only measurable in miles and the year after next i'd like to go home. thoughts of mine keep returning to the idea of a future near the rhine again, and then to foggy bottom. it's a difficult thing to say, that you're just wandering out in the open with no poetic purpose. it's even harder to admit that a life of meaning, a courageous act, or a sign of beauty... that these cannot be planned. i've trained myself enough to watch for falling stars of dust and moments of modern enlightenment but really, you only find them when you're not looking. already within my sixteen little years i've experienced the dissolution of communism in my old country, i've witnessed the birth of urban romance and i've stood beside a crumpled stranger as he died. i have photographed the construction of bridges and the collapse of buildings; all of the things that will one day be memorized by historians and scholars. at the time of their conception, i was neither searching or yearning for them; oftentimes i was unaware of their hidden, secretive power for days after. (it has been one week since i tore every image down from my bedroom walls, and yet it was only tonight that i began to appreciate the simplistic beauty of reconstruction!) realize now that the moment you are living is not, and will never be, a singular moment. the spontaneous actions in which you chose to find delight will remain a part of you forever. a picture taken or a word spoken in an instant maintains its beauty for as long as the concept remains timeless. your breath may fade in time but your impact (your personal colors and sounds and motions) will echo throughout the hollow tranquility of eternal return.