Monday, October 25, 2010

The world is my oyster, but I'd rather have tacos.

Tonight, I ate a restaurant in Kosovo with two of our mutual friends. We ate delicious Eastern European food that came in clay pots. Earlier, I documented the work of our two mutual friends. I sat with my camera while Ashkali, Albanian, and Romani teenagers fell safely into each others arm. This morning, I woke up on my queen sized bed in my private room in the house being rented by our two mutual friends. I had Baklava for breakfast. Not too shabby, eh? It sounds like I'm keeping busy. It looks like I'm keeping busy. It feels like I'm keeping busy. I hear often how nice it is that I travel, and how lucky I am that I am capable of dropping everything in New York, so that I can live in Europe for four months. Yes, it seems that way. Lucky. Look at me, Carmen Santiago. Look at me, the world traveler sitting in a train station in Thessaloniki with my black hat and ukulele. Look closely. Closer. Inside the brain. I've got a passport, and the capabilities to go anywhere, but do you see what's going on inside my smart tissue? It's fixed on our coffee mugs, and velour gypsy blanket. It's fixed on a cold, rainy day in Brooklyn and two Hot Toddies. It's fixed on the desire to lay in bed close to your warm body. Yes, I am lucky. Yes, I like being here. Yes, I am grateful. But that brain of mine knows what it'd rather have, and I can't ignore this fact, nor do I want to. It exists, and its existence is what continues to make you tangible. This desire- this is where you and I now live.

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