I'm back in Colchester, desperately trying to get all sorts of administrative things together on the net (if anyone cares, I'm killing one of my old servers, filmgen1.nfshost.com... I don't think that should effect anyone but my wallet) so I can run out to London while it's actually not pouring rain outside.
I left the Netherlands without having really met anyone but it was a good long weekend of reflection and the whatnot. Killing time in Rotterdam was a bit hard on a Sunday night. For those of you keen to the whole YouTube impostor story, the guy erased his account from YouTube so I didn't have contact info.
The Netherlands Montage, YouTube
5/27/07 Scribblings in my Moleskine from the lobby of the Westin Hotel, Rotterdam:
I was in a big city with no map and no direction. I asked myself how I got here. Why was I here even? Someone called Rotterdam, the New York of the Netherlands and immediately I started to agree as far as ethnic diversity went. The crowds were less touristy on the metro and thuggish teens looked like they wanted to mug me and maybe bust a rhyme about it afterwards. But it's a safe place. The architecture seemed modern and European, whatever that's supposed to mean.
On the advice of a couchsurfer, I checked out the cube houses of Blaak Street, the Oude Haven area, and I walked the Erasmus Bridge. After a chicken sandwich and frites, I decided to watch Pirates of the Caribbean 3 at the Pathe theater I came across. They've got ads before their films, too and there was one that killed me. It was about a sexy girl and a guy who could barely hold on to her. I have to find it. (I found it here at wefashion.com, go to the Touch Me Campaign link on the left) It's rare to find a film that seems to be something straight out of my head. The magic of the moving image.
When Pirates started I became a bit sad. There was the familiarity of being in a cozy movie theater and watching an American popcorn movie but there was also this sensation that I was so far away from home. The obvious was that there were Dutch subtitles and everyone around me conversing in Dutch (not during the film, thankfully). I don't know, I feel so disconnected. There were times when I felt disconnected from friends and people back home but now, I was physically separated from them. And I was culturally separated from those currently around me. ::sigh:: I've got 7 more hours to kill and all I want is to curl up in one of the hotel beds in this Westin.
The Netherlands is the second country where I haven't really spoken to anyone. Four days of walking with my thoughts takes a toll on my mood. I knew there would be more days like this and I'll pull through, no problem. But if I don't get some of this down on paper, I may just hit a bottle. I really can't afford the luxury of imbibing... I checked my bank account today and it's incredible how much cash Western Europe has burned. I'm really starting to worry about making it through seven more months. Holy God! Seven more months!? It feels like a jail sentence or time serving a tour of duty in my head. Days of solitude make me forget why I'm doing this.
If you've got someone close, give him or her a hug. If you know someone that has no one, call 'em or pay 'em a visit. Me, I can't be helped just yet. But worry not, I'm never alone as long as I got me.
The mark of a the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one. - Wilhelm Stekel [Catcher in the Rye]
More Moleskine scribblings from Fashion Cafe Bar in Colchester, 5/28/07:
Sure people'll miss you when you're gone but life goes on. Unless you have some sort of strong bond or tie... whatever you want to call it. Then, when you leave, life becomes unbearable without you for an unspecified duration. You can't leave when there's that sort of relationship. If you do, it's going to be almost equally as tough on both ends. I didn't have that. And now I'm here, wanting that.