This is Europe, right?

This is the land of staying out all night, doing whatever you want, drinking as much as you can, smoking, dropping pills, shagging aplenty, doing whatever satisfies that sick fuck of yourself…all those perverted things in your head that you would never tell a soul, happen in reality, happen in this fantasy land, happen in this England?

When that primal instinct or a daring situation you seize the day and hope that you’ll end up in the right place by the end of it. No regrets, no worries, and definitely no conscience.

Damn, that’d be the life.

I really don’t know what to think anymore…although a good night’s sleep (by myself this time) sorted a few things out, the facts remain that:

a) i came here alone and felt a bit of loneliness while adapting to the British culture. Psychologically, this could be a sort of salvation or redemption from my fears of being a castaway in an outcast land.

b) i am a lucky, lucky boy who knows what he wants but not necessarily what he needs

c) coming here alone will change me profoundly in whatever i do and every experience in my young, developing self is a growing experience

etc., etc., etc. As you see whenever i try to even assess the situation, each point is grounded with a justification for my actions. Speaking last night with Sabrina only confused me more but left the door open for more experiences not unlike Guaranteed Shag Night’s.

What i am afraid of is that i will grow attached to her and before i know it, it will be time for her to leave and this vicious cycle will start all over again. Plus, being surrounded by so many merry-makers and an overactive libido has owed a lot of thoughts to Mr. Winky and not my brain. All the hormones racing around cloud my thoughts when i actually have the chance to think.

Plus it’s so fun; you wouldn’t believe.

Really though, if i do stop and chill out for a bit the day-by-day approach seems the most rational and the most bullshit.

As is life……

Ryan

This royal throne of kings, this scepter’d isle,

This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

This other Eden, demi-paradise,

This fortress built by Nature for herself

Against infection and the hand of war,

This happy breed of men, this little world,

This precious stone set in the silver sea,

Which serves it in the office of a wall,

Or as a moat defensive to a house,

Against the envy of less happier lands,

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England….

[Shakespeare, King Richard II: Act II Scene 1]