I start reading something like Faulkner and 2 pages in I need to write my own prose. I start, then once I put my pen down I'm done for. Can't start again. Well this is where maybe 10 minutes got me:

Many a boy has never fallen out of love with me.
Through the endless hallways of patterned carpetted walls and disorienting floors dotted with identical but entirely unsimilar (once inside) doors and seemingly insignificant numbers and knobs have I led them all. Some for months and years while some for the time one takes to rinse a Manhattan-sidewalk-bought cucumber. I luckily stopped buying those.
But my poor mother. Mother has only crawled through the disintegrating doorways, scraping her zebra-printed acrylic nails along cracked, single-coated plywood walls in Super 8 motels lining trucker-stopped highways in New Jersey and still, with only a mouthful of men. Most times that I did see her in her kitchen, she sat with no one but her cigarette and Jack Daniels. She trusted these boys to never break her collar bone or give her stitches in her palm. That is until so much Jack slipped through her teeth that she tripped over the dog's food bowl and forehead met counter corner faster than my narcoleptic sister's head hit the back of the seat rest during Titanic.

Philip Guston's Painting, Smoking, Eating

I stuff a dress, my Dublin flats and studded boots,

one or two integral shirts or vests,

new bathing suit,

phone charger, camera, computer, makeup,

maybe some tea if I'm running out wherever I'm going,

into my black backpack and head out in my car again.

Almost every two days or so.

And I'll stop eating breakfast now.

it's 84 degrees in the kitchen and i can't bear to sleep in my attic room

i spent 4th of july weekend in jersey city and had a great time

then went on my mom's new boat on lake Hopatcong and that was nice

got way too sunburnt

need a job in westchester

if i sit down in a place for like 2 hours i start freaking out

and feel really unproductive

but as soon as i go drive somewhere to see people

i'm happy

i feel like i'm losing my mind

and like a drifter

having a room in ireland for a month was the most steady

i've been since the semester

we're writing some music and finally tracked a song

i like our space

it's just too hot out

I'm in Dingle, Ireland. I'm living with 8 other girls in a cottage, next to 2 other cottages filled with people in our painting program. We paint the landscapes that surround us: rolling hills covered in grids of various greens. Cattle and sheep dot the landscape. Bulls lie in the front yard of our cottages. I've no phone and can only know the time when I'm near a clock or with somebody with a watch. I can only communicate with people not around me when I walk 25 minutes into town and get to the library (closed on weekends) or sneak some time in on a roommates laptop.

This kind of living takes time to get used to when I'm usually texting about 4-5 people regularly. It's very different and I'm very glad I've done it. Convenience is a whole different ball game for me now. I can't drive, I can't always get the groceries I want, I've only like 4 changes of clothes, etc.

Life in Europe is entirely different than life in the states. This is country living, here. The shops have lunch breaks and will close for various reasons (aka i'm sick today, sorry). People actually talk to you and are interested in your story. They say sorry, they wait for you to cross the street, they give you a book of funny quotes while you wait for your fish sandwich.

There's no real trespassing, no privately-owned land. Socialist capitalism, in my mind, is perfect. If you are an artist, regardless of how much money you make, you don't pay taxes. No one tips here, because it's included in prices. Things are expensive because they are luxuries, not necessities. This is how all life should be. Treat yourself to something once in a while, but otherwise just live. Just live.

Music is huge. There's live music in the pubs almost every night. There's also 57 pubs in this town which is basically the size of Purchase College's campus. I feel like little kids start learning instruments, mainly guitar, accordian, violin, at a very young age and just play, almost the way American students always play sports, always have gym class.

I can't do this though, this traveling thing, without a companion whom I really need. It's hard for me because I miss these imperative people from home so badly. 17 more days.

Who else is too concerned with the way people see them?

Who else's #1 priority in life is to be seen as a good, considerate, genuine person?

Who else has lost their mind a few times?

Who else has emerged out of a pile of garbage?

don't plan for the future any more than 5 hours from the present.

Brief recap of craziest week:

Tues: last day of school, stood show and show/party in alumni

Wed: came back to jersey i think, or was it thursday?

Thurs: awesome night at Bardis with jersey friends

Fri: rode bikes with Perrelly, went to the city with him met cam & dru, went to a party in harlem, weird, went to brooklyn, stayed over

Sat: hit garage sales in Jersey with perrelly & cam, drove to ny, met tara&denis, drove to pleasure beach, CT, watched movie at my house all together

Sun: Lenny's bagels, rye beach, chilled all over port chester all afternoon/night/morning

Mon: run errands in white plains w/ cam, then drove to jersey

tonight going out to dinner with friends. i need to find hiking boots for Ireland. I leave in 13 days. oh my lord. i've been having the absolute time of my life this summer so far and i can only imagine it getting better.