Different to have to struggle so hard for each sentence.  It is extremely good for me to have that and speaking other languages gives a sense of anonymity which I crave… Prague gives me the anonymity I once sought, but like most other affectations, I didn’t like it so much once I got there.

To be anonymous is like being invisible or conditionally ignored.  To be seen as an object, a foreign concept that is both alluring and insidious at the same time.  I know how to blend in here, even though I definitely don’t fit in.  And at first I felt comfortable but this was an illusion and now I am just beginning to chip away at the underlying uncertainty.

Things wrap around the spectre of my imagination and each idea invades my solitude like an explosion of gypsy stardust. I want only to breath the same air he does once more and know his life is happy and good.  I spend each day searching for the next emerging pathway, next place? job?