sorry I'm such a bore.

I haven't posted anything of 'substance' in a long time--aside from a few small 'reflective' posts here and there. I could sit back and claim that my reluctance to post has been due to the fact that I've been struggling with bouts of laziness. However, that would be quite far from the truth. There have been days, even weeks, where I felt as if I WANTED to write, but I've never sat down and picked up the pen to do it. It's like I feel as if I have nothing to say. The past two years of my life played out as if I was in a perpetual forest of new discoveries: dark, mysterious paths weaved in and out of towering trees that would almost inevitably lead me to a meadow of cultural awakening, language acquisition, or lively nights at the pub.

I have to break away from that. The Czech Republic for me--at least the immediate life--is over. Erie, Pennsylvania is my new abode, and the people I see daily on my bike rides to work are my current neighbors. So, where am I to go to now? The enigmatic forest has turned into something of a bore. The cultural meadow has morphed into nothing but a vast, hollow desert: nothing to see, nothing to do.

You see, even my thoughts have been jumbled, and feel as if I'm writing with a pen that doesn't write in black or red ink, but in white or gray, colors like the paper: My writing blends in, offers nothing new, easily disappearing between the blue lines and the red verticle margin.

I wish I had an interesting story to tell....