Prague

I pack my suit in a bag.
I'm all dress up for Prague.
I'm all dress up with you.
I'm all dress up for him too.

Prepare myself for a war.
Before I even open up my door.
Before I even look out.
I'm pissing all of my bullets about.

I wrap myself in a bag.
I'm all rapt up in Prague.
I'm all wrapped up in you.
I'm all wrapped up in him too.

Prepare myself for a war.
And I don't know what I'm doing this for.
Trying to let it all go.
But how can I if you still don't know?

I could wait for you
Like that hole in your boot
Waiting to be fixed
I could wait for you
What good would that do?
But to leave me pricked?

...

So I have dreams almost everynight. Sometimes (many times), those dreams are nightmares. Like sometimes I dream with zombies and although I like zombies, I am frequently running from them in my dreams and I feel in danger.

I should write about my dreams more often. Sometimes I don't write in this blog because of privacy issues, who knows who's still visiting from Salamanca (fuck you).

But I do want to keep writing. So maybe my dreams are a safer topic.

I gotta keep my sanity somehow.

Yesterday I dreamed about my family. We were traveling together, the original 5 plus Poncho. No David, I'm not sure why. No Mary either. This time we were traveling in London. I already dreamed once about traveling with them, but it was in Italy.

I miss them. All of them.

--------

I really like this song. I'm sad I haven't heard it when I was alone in Prague, walking aimlessly. I was so tired, my feet hurt. It was raining. I was sad. It was my first conference. I wasn't listening to Damien Rice yet. I just knew the Blower's Daughter song. Shortly after that trip I started listening to all of his albums. God, I love his songs. They are so full of passion and sometimes anger, they are not about perfect love, many times they are about infidelity and sadness and loneliness and regrets. His songs help me express my sadness.

---------
I miss Wini.