She said to me, "Go steady on me.
Won't you tell me what the Wise Men said?
When they came down from Heaven,
Smoked nine 'til seven,
All the shit that they could find,
But they couldn't escape from you,
Couldn't be free of you,
And now they know there's no way out,
And they're really sorry now for what they've done,
They were three Wise Men just trying to have some fun.

"Look who's alone now,
It's not me. It's not me.
Those three Wise Men,
They've got a semi by the sea.
Got to ask yourself the question,Where are you now?

Really sorry now,
They weren't to know.
They got caught up in your talent show,
With you pernickety little bastards in your fancy dress,
Who just judge each other and try to impress,
But they couldn't escape from you,
Couldn't be free of you,
And now they know there's no way out,
And they're really sorry now for what they've done,
They were three Wise Men just trying to have some fun.

Look who's alone now,
It's not me. It's not me.
Those three Wise Men,
They've got a semi by the sea.
Got to ask yourself the question,
Where are you now?
~"Wisemen," James Blunt

I heard this song in the last few weeks of the Rome semester. I sang it as I did things I shouldn't have. I sang it through Europe: on the plane, in England, in Ireland, all the way back home. I asked where was I now? And it stuck with me. It continues to.

"Why are there so many songs about rainbows?
And what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions,
but only illusions,
and rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told,
and some choose to believe it,
But I know they're wrong, wait and see

Someday we'll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me

Who said that every wish would be heard and answered
when wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that
and someone believed it,
and look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing?
And what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it,
the rainbow connection,
the lovers, the dreamers and me.

All of us under its spell,we know that it's probably magic....
Have you been half asleep
and have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it.
It's something that I'm supposed to be.
Someday we'll find it,
the rainbow connection,
the lovers, the dreamers and me.
La, la la, La, la la la, La Laa, la la, La, La la laaaaaaa
~Rainbow Connection

For some reason, that song always gets me.

The Beautiful changes in such kind ways.

I have returned from the other side of the pond. I have explored Rome, Florence, Venice, London, Edinburough, York, Oxford, Liverpool, Dublin, Cork, Ireland in general. I have wandered those streets, all by my lonesome. I have wandered them with friends. I have explored the cities as I explore myself. I have come to conclusions and re-conclusions. I have broken away from my parents, probably for good and all. I have broken from the mold that people force upon me. I try to ignore that constant ghost, the shadow of what I should be. She hovers, that unkindly spectre, she hovers over me gently nudging me to become what I am expected to be. At the same time, another spirit hovers over me. She is who I want to be. It is she who also points me in other directions, sometimes the same directions as the spectre. But somewhere between the two I wander, along the rough path I have chosen.

I am watching the school video. It makes me miss the school, because when the idea works, it works so wonderfully. And the school does get into you, under your skin, into your eyes and ears and brain. I actually want to go back, I want to trade Rome stories with people in the caf on a rainy afternoon sipping on tea as I wait for my majors class. I want to walk through campus and say hi to everyone who wanders by and actually know who they are. I want to go back and hear all that music and talk, and the stupid humanities humor, and joke about latin verbs. I mean, who does that? No one but the Thomas Morons. I want to go back and write more for the paper. Teddy'll let me. How does that work always get done? You spend time talking and laughing and watching stupid movies and making crappy jokes and making sugar runs and yet you make the deadlines. It's funny, really.