sleepless and sanguine

Sleep never comes easy to me. The old mind keeps turning like an old stone wheel, just looking for things to grind through. Tonight, I think of how much freedom I have in my life, compared to the others around me and those I read about.

Without much of a conscious thought, I have chosen a life with almost no tangibles except the clothes on my back and the few utensils I need for modern day appearances. One could take a look at all I dont have and be really disappointed. I have no car, and no car payment. No house, and no mortgage. No stocks, bonds, savings, or rich uncles ready to give me a large inheritance. I'm stuck with just me and am somehow quite content where I am.

I do have college loan debt, which sometimes is the only thing that keeps me working and glued to the spot I am in. I have this dream/fantasy of backpacking around the world, one step at a time while living as a street entertainer to buy food and new colored balls to juggle. Unfortunetly, I can't juggle though. But I still look at the sunsets and wonder why I am not walking toward them.

So I have to wonder if there is something wrong with me. Friends are getting married, friends are having kids, making gardens, and saving for their 401K plans. And somehow none of this appeals to me. I still have the feeling that I just broke free from the graduate student jail I was just in. All I want to do is live in the next land and soak up the experience of it all.

I keep thinking of my move to Germany and what an amazing time and adventure it has all been. I wouldnt trade it for a fat paycheck anywhere in the US. The countries and culture I have seen, the people I have met have put a mirror to my face and shown me how ignorant I am. Not always pleasant, but so interesting to see.

I dont know if I will be moving back to the US after this year or not. Certainly it would be great to see the family and friends more often, and the plus side of actually speaking the language is always appealing, but it seems so boring from every other point of view. I used to think a big cultural shock would be moving from Minneapolis to California, but here I am now contemplating a move to China, even though I would probably be paid on their local pay scale, which is about a fourth of what I would be paid in America or Europe. And Mandarin is no easy language to learn. I hear this from the Germans here, who have lots of experience learning languages, since they all seem to know three languages at the least.

OK, anyway, I have wrote myself tired, which was kind of the point. Good night and when I have more definite plans for my future, I will let you know.

How Berlin broke my heart.

Berlin. It has it all. Quick love, slow love, romantic and passionate, and inevitably, broken love. Berlin was my lover for the past three days. She showed me everything I was missing, fed me everything that I was wanting. With the passion freed and the heart awoken, I opened the unknown doors without knowing what was behind them; ardor or anguish? In the end, she gave me everything I deserved.

During the day she dazzled me with all her city sweets, strolled me along the walls of deep history and long lost moments. As the sun sets on her sexy streets, the wild sensual side awoke with a trembling of anticipation and pleasure. The evening gets as dark as the Ramazotti Schnapps she drinks and the mood as open.

The dancing starts with the music pumping and beats beating. You and her no longer move to the music, but the music moves you both, closer and closer, to unknown risks and wished rewards. The night turns to morning with eyes closed and the legs running. From the last slow salsa to the soft sheets of sleeping is but a blur of moments and minutes.

Then the morning comes with harsh glare of the angry sun. The hangover hits you with the reality of the empty bed, unkept promises, and the slow painful recognition of broken love as the train tears your you away from the breast of Berlin and back into the dull normalcy from which you began. With one last thought, riding on equal parts of ache and afterglow, I think to myself,

Berlin, Ich werde Sie nie vergessen!

The Fountain of Youth--FOUND!

The other day, I made a poor decision (one of many) and decided to take a short cut through the woods to find another way to the university. I was on my street bike, which wasn't working so well in the rocky and woody trails of the Marburg Forest. I was about an hour into the forest when I found myself tired, wet from the drizzle and mud, and VERY thirsty. I hadn't taken any water with me, since I thought this would be only a 20 minute 'shortcut'.

Frustrated with my bad judgement, I was just wishing that if I had a little water, life would be a lot easier at the moment. About 5 minutes later I walk into Viola's Ruh (Ruh translated as rest), as seen in the picture. Imagine my surprise at the sudden wish coming true. The water tasted cold and crystal clear, and found myself wondering, how is this in the middle of the forest, on a trail that is hardly ever used.

My colleague tells me that Ruh does translate into rest, but the meaning is more, like Rest in Peace. Viola's Ruh just might be a grave sight in the middle of the forest, that now has a natural spring for lost travelers like me. Interesting huh? The adventures of Mo continue.