Praguesession!

Prague, or Praha, or Pravda, or TRUTH. I have done nothing since returning from Amsterdam but want to go there! PRAGUE!

I have had a few dreams about this place in the mysterious Czech Republic. In one, the roadside was green and a stream ran alongside it, littered with trains of dead elephants. Everyone biked, and though I did not know where I'd left my baggage--I wasn't travelling with the group--I didn't care a bit. In another, it was just a feeling--a newspaper filled with stories I wanted to read opening up with me inside it.

Going somewhere without fully knowing what you're going to is tempting in that it allows you to come with as few preconceived ideas as possible. Important to come somewhat knowledgeable about the culture, yes, but what I long for is that divine feeling of being dipped inside something totally foreign, where you don't even have the dubious luxury of being able to read advertisements. What does one try to sell in the city of Truth?

My San Francisco apartment is beautiful, especially at this late, quiet hour. The tidy package of my car sits outside, and I have everything I need. Then there's that unnameable something, which wants to stand in the streets of Prague and feel the place in my bones. Like I could know something there, that I have been aching to know, that would make all the difference.