Story from prague
..Time has hardly been unkind under this gentile light…..
How is it possible that I am in Prague, one of the most beautiful cities in the.. world??? Some people save to travel, me I had a novel idea, hop on a plane and hope that I can sell cds.
Thanks to kurts hospitality (see my top friends) and the cheapness of europe, I have only spent $400. Now I am in this amazing city, so inspired, but with no guitar and no keyboards. So I must write to scratch my creative itch.
Standing over the city from the lookout I can feel this city’s wisdom burried, under the new sight of mc donalds and kfc. It breaths a cold wind, of truth. People want things, so the communist era died without much of a battle.
Prague..has the overall feeling of when you visit an old friend, and his house is stacked wall to wall with books. On his bedside table, the paper, and more books, a stained coffee cup, and a ashtray with one stubbed ciggerette. I feel like Berlin and Prague are old friends, old wise friends.
I started reading Bob Dylans autobiography on the train from Berlin and when I got to prague I was half way though. I am a big fan of this man, but for reasons that most aren’t. I love the fact he calved the way of a new musicial era. Dylan, believed he could be like beethoven, and he did it. He was told buy everyone that folk was outside the realm of radio and commericial music. He proved them all wrong.
If Bob Dylan was in Brisbane now, he wouldn’t be doing folk, he probably be doing spoken word with samples. Or some other off the wall- weird all engaging represtation of lifes thick liquids.
I still love someone, here in prague, I realise that more than ever, I wish that she was here with me, that I was walking these old european streets with my old compainion, probably my best friend still. But unrequited love this is rockfuel for musicial inspiration, so its probably for the best that I am doing this trip alone.
Sometimes I think that solitude is the ulimate sacrfice that artists make, not all, but most of us, move though life alone.
To the world. I love you, but will you love me back????
Isn’t that what we are all saying? or is it that we hate the world, and want it to love us back?
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