I've been looking back into my journals from years ago.
nostalgia ad nauseaum.
FRIDAY NOVEMBER 15 2002 2:37 PM
Oh I just got three Sigur Ros albums in the mail
I am now swimming in the deepest most heavy nostalgic sea of heart break.
oh and it is raining
I have a cup of earl grey, a cigarette
I am reminded of all the places I have been
The 21st floor of a 22 story building, in my step grandparents apartment in Yugoslavia. Only 14 and staring out at that beautiful foriegn landscape. The buildings with there 60's film tint. The mosques. The bunches of roses climbing all over the twisted iron fences. The almost unbearable sweaty hot days, spent in anxious nervous ecstasy. The sudden rain and thunder and lightning storms that left the whole city steaming. The street car, packed full of old women with dyed red hair, and aprons, and bags full of produce and strange food. The dark skinned men with their sickly sweet stench of sweat, so erotic.
The gypsies. All speaking in a language that I only know a few words of.
There is a park there with a ruined castle, right on the Danube, where I found a dead dog. I saw gypsies with a dancing bear in chains. I made friends with so many kids who all wanted to meet the American girl. I fell in love with a boy who played gutiar, and his friend fell in love with me, we had the same obsession for the Cure and we traded artwork.
I bought so many bootleg CDs from a goth gypsy for 50 cents or 5 dinar.
oh I want to travel!
man my grammar was horrible, still is, but not quite as bad. . .sheesh
nostalgia ad nauseaum.
FRIDAY NOVEMBER 15 2002 2:37 PM
Oh I just got three Sigur Ros albums in the mail
I am now swimming in the deepest most heavy nostalgic sea of heart break.
oh and it is raining
I have a cup of earl grey, a cigarette
I am reminded of all the places I have been
The 21st floor of a 22 story building, in my step grandparents apartment in Yugoslavia. Only 14 and staring out at that beautiful foriegn landscape. The buildings with there 60's film tint. The mosques. The bunches of roses climbing all over the twisted iron fences. The almost unbearable sweaty hot days, spent in anxious nervous ecstasy. The sudden rain and thunder and lightning storms that left the whole city steaming. The street car, packed full of old women with dyed red hair, and aprons, and bags full of produce and strange food. The dark skinned men with their sickly sweet stench of sweat, so erotic.
The gypsies. All speaking in a language that I only know a few words of.
There is a park there with a ruined castle, right on the Danube, where I found a dead dog. I saw gypsies with a dancing bear in chains. I made friends with so many kids who all wanted to meet the American girl. I fell in love with a boy who played gutiar, and his friend fell in love with me, we had the same obsession for the Cure and we traded artwork.
I bought so many bootleg CDs from a goth gypsy for 50 cents or 5 dinar.
oh I want to travel!
man my grammar was horrible, still is, but not quite as bad. . .sheesh
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
I dont think it ever fades.