Snap Crackle Pop

Blergh, I can't put thoughts into words right now. I've started about ten posts on assorted topics: hair, missing Rome, Grey's Anatomy as a parody of itself, life cereal, lack of inspiration, Justin Bieber and his prepubescent charm. I can't get a flow going. I walked to rehearsal earlier, listening to music, tripping on ice, inappropriate in a blazer, the cold washing over me. I couldn't help but think of Ro Ma Ro Ma Ma and all of its infinite glory. Each day had its own life, tidy, exciting and contained. I knew how amazing it was, always inwardly repeating 'Remy, savor this this this.' When I was diving into the sea, mountains at my back, or opening a bottle of the cheapest wine, I knew how content I was. But I had the luxury of the moment, there was only that, nothing forward, nothing past. Now, I'm back in Baltimore. And yes, it has its particular charms, but I miss the grandeur of being anonymous, of walking outside in a blazer, and only half understanding the action around me. It's up to me now. I need to put myself into contexts that aren't immediate, to grow by virtue of my own initiative and not because the language/ the people/ the ancient arches/ the golden churches are beckoning me to. It's the constant struggle, to pop a little hole in the atmosphere and stretch it till a mysterious something/other appears. If you want in, let me know.