Ten Little Chances to be Free (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tenlittlebullets) wrote2003-08-17 10:25 pm
tenlittlebullets) wrote2003-08-17 10:25 pm
Travel and such
Is it weird that I just got back from six weeks at camp, a weekend on a boat, and a weekend in Florida, nad now I want to travel again? It's like once I've been away from home long enough I don't want to stay.
I want to go to New York City. I want to see Phantom of the Opera again, even if their musical director is a wanker who's ruining the whole show; I want to check out the clubs; I want to wander aimlessly through downtown Manhattan and get myself lost in the middle of the city; I want to see the skyline from an airplane coming in. I want the bustle, the feeling of being near so many people but being completely alone. I want to chase pigeons in Battery Park.
I want to go to San Francisco. I want wind and fog and temperate climate; I want to see the view from one of the endless hills; I want to go back to the cliffs by the bay and hear the water pound against the rock and the wind whistle through the crevices. I want to curl up in a little shop with a bagel and a book and be able to flirt with the waitress without getting funny looks. I want to march in outlandish gay pride parades, to stand on the bridge and let the world whiz by with cameras and guidebooks, to not have to wish I was in San Francisco whenever I hear 'Seemann' by Rammstein.
I want to go to Hawaii. To swim and scuba and sail and god knows what else, make corny aloha jokes, probably fry no matter how much sunscreen I put on.
I want to go to Europe. I want to fly into London and spend a year with a Eurorail pass going wherever the hell I feel like going. I want to make out with someone at the top of the Eiffel Tower, to wander around the parts of East Berlin where the streets have no names. To meet up with Anita in Hungary, to gawp at all the castles and cathedrals and explore the waterways of Venice and get lost in Prague like Roberto did on the chorus trip. To dance at German industrial clubs and get drunk off my ass 'cause no one cares about the drinking age.
Or, I could shut up, go back to school, get my nose to the grindstone and smile and nod when theGestapo administrators put me in shock therapy counseling.
I want to go to New York City. I want to see Phantom of the Opera again, even if their musical director is a wanker who's ruining the whole show; I want to check out the clubs; I want to wander aimlessly through downtown Manhattan and get myself lost in the middle of the city; I want to see the skyline from an airplane coming in. I want the bustle, the feeling of being near so many people but being completely alone. I want to chase pigeons in Battery Park.
I want to go to San Francisco. I want wind and fog and temperate climate; I want to see the view from one of the endless hills; I want to go back to the cliffs by the bay and hear the water pound against the rock and the wind whistle through the crevices. I want to curl up in a little shop with a bagel and a book and be able to flirt with the waitress without getting funny looks. I want to march in outlandish gay pride parades, to stand on the bridge and let the world whiz by with cameras and guidebooks, to not have to wish I was in San Francisco whenever I hear 'Seemann' by Rammstein.
I want to go to Hawaii. To swim and scuba and sail and god knows what else, make corny aloha jokes, probably fry no matter how much sunscreen I put on.
I want to go to Europe. I want to fly into London and spend a year with a Eurorail pass going wherever the hell I feel like going. I want to make out with someone at the top of the Eiffel Tower, to wander around the parts of East Berlin where the streets have no names. To meet up with Anita in Hungary, to gawp at all the castles and cathedrals and explore the waterways of Venice and get lost in Prague like Roberto did on the chorus trip. To dance at German industrial clubs and get drunk off my ass 'cause no one cares about the drinking age.
Or, I could shut up, go back to school, get my nose to the grindstone and smile and nod when the