Wednesday, August 20, 2003


My feet rest again on British soil. That statement is a lie, in the strictest sense of language. An entire story of apartment building — a story, notably, inhabited by Rammstein-loving Poles — separates me from the ground. Nonetheless, I feel happy to be once again in London, a few steps closer to home and rest and sanity and cleanliness. Uncle Andy’s a great guy for letting me stay here free of charge, but oh how I loathe his apartment, the walk to which allowed me two glimpses into London’s seedy streetlife. One: I saw what I believe to be a drug deal. I quickened my step. Two: I was propositioned by a prostitute. Other than that, I arrived safely at the front door of an apartment that twice now the London police have declared a crime scene. Free internet. n8rs81: hey everyone n8rs81: look its really him n8rs81: thats Drew n8rs81: I met him once n8rs81: no you didn't n8rs81: thats kind of how i picture your return from Europe Last night I stood on the Eiffel Tower and looked over a sparkling Paris. This morning I walked through the catacombs, touching skulls that once belonged to victims of the French Revolution. Quite a juxtaposition, and the perfect way to bid farewell to Paris — save the drop of catacomb water I got in my eye… I’ll probably get cholera. I finshed Alan Moore's Watchmen on the Chunnel. Good book. Great, actually. I gave it to Charlie and I wonder how it might find me again. I remember my anthro teacher sophomore year thought it was funny how the phallic, intrusive Chunnel poked England in an area called Kent. Ha. D.A.C.K. has now completely disbanded. Charlie split from me at Waterloo Station and took a train to meet his English uncle in Redding, Agnes’s Paris program begins tomorrow, and Kristen is somewhere in Sweden. It was the best foursome since the Beatles. I’ll miss it, even if right now I’m loving the non-socializing I’m doing. In my heart and in my car. We can't rewind we've gone too far. I plan to enjoy these last few days in London, even if every article of clothing I have is filthy. I miss pornography and sorely need a shave. I’m starting to look more like the bum who looked like me. Even though I saw only a smallish chunk of the world, I am pleased with myself. I saw the other side and I came back.
Today is gonna be the day That they’re gonna throw it back to you By now you should've somehow Realised what you gotta do I don’t believe that anybody Feels the way I do about you now Backbeat the word was on the street That the fire in your heart is out I’m sure you've heard it all before But you never really had a doubt I don’t believe that anybody feels The way I do about you now And all the roads we have to walk are winding And all the lights that lead us there are blinding There are many things that I would Like to say to you But I don’t know how Because maybe You’re gonna be the one that saves me And after all You’re my wonderwall
Four days.

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