Strikes and Gutters
Weather: A comfortable -4 degrees with a refreshing breeze of 20 kmh blowing into the face (regardless of which direction that face is pointed)
CD: Death Cab for Cutie — Plans (not to sound too trendy)
Book:Atlas Shrugged — Ayn Rand
I got to talking to a good buddy of mine from back home in the states. We discussed the veritable range of conversation points: work, play, the lackluster performance the Horns put up against the Ags, and of course the inevitable flash point regarding the female species. Talk then moved on to the other struggles encountered in life. It hasn’t been all roses here on this side of the pond. There is the constant uncertainty regarding the immigration offices, the eternal frustrations involved in the job search and the overall frustrations involving income and companionship. This buddy of mine, in his most philosophical of terms, indulged in me: "Well man, I’ll tell you what; you’re living a dream. I wish I had it in me to face the constant uncertainties that you do. And because you can face those uncertainties, look at where it’s brought you. A place most people can only dream of… like myself." The next afternoon I found myself walking through a labrynth of old Communist housing projects as I returned home from an afternoons work teaching children English. I passed a man urinating on a tree at the corner of a cross street. The elderly lady I was walking next to began to chastize him in a rather comical manner. She then looked to me with an incredulous look of humour on her face. Her grin then carried over to mine as my gaze drifted past the steel blocks into the quickly setting rays of the Northern European sun.
That evening I found myself staring into the lone eye of Queen Nefertiti. She truly is as beautiful as the stories made her out to be, especially considering her age (3500 years). She gazed calmly into the madness of the Berlin evening. I later followed that gaze into the Berlin Christmas market where gluehwein glazed the eyes and hearts pounded in excitement as the next amusement ride took flight. Names, faces, and faces without names flooded my memory as characters from the past came vividly alive with the smell of roasting sausage. My buddy was right. Sometimes I just need a little help when it comes to opening my eyes. My alarm clock can only do so much.