Verdant Vagrant

I soar as the world vaults me through its burning rondure. The red bleeds sweetly into the clouds. A crimson tide rolls over my visage, washing the sorrow away. I am calm, but full of rage. Full of embers that singe under the dying sun and cast a serene glow down the sloping hills and budding trees of Northern Maryland. And with several roars I am airborne. On to unfathomable depths, normally forfeit, murky, clammy with a malevolent dew, an oppressive air, a basilisk horribly ravaged by Herculean conformities, sniveling in the dark, his eyes demonic fireflies. But my own being is majestic and supernal, ineffable yet laudable. It paints the macabre valley a brilliant red, it flows with the emerald isle, as I return so many years later to forge within my own soul that by which I exist.

And so my journey began on Aer Lingus. A dreadful bore before left me at the airport for three solid hours. Where just to be ironic I played Medieval 2: Total War Britannia and conquered most of Scotland with some of my flippant Irish lads. I had a whole row to myself on the flight, and a whole head of hangover from my cousins wedding the previous night. That didn’t stop the airplane, but it barely stopped my gag reflex. It would be a flight of about 4 hours. I can’t sleep in public spaces, however. The noise gets on my nerves and then I get so flustered my body keeps me awake in protest to my mind’s admonition. Which makes absolutely no sense, for it is my body that is tired, not my mind. That it would protest so is utterly paradoxical. So instead I watched The Soloist, almost cried by the end, and then closed my eyes in a vain attempt to find rest.

Dublin was drenched yet everything I expected. Rainy, chilly, but unperturbed. A calm hung in the air, buoyant under my own excitement that I was in the land of my ancestors. As if some blood knowledge had kicked in. That’s mostly just silly verbose grammar, but I was as exhilarated as the radiance that hung beyond the hazy sky.

Two Americans notied my college acceptance letter and we quickly found solidarity with each other. I made my way on, so as not to impose, yet struck up another conversation with them at the baggage claim. Something about transportation. And lo and behold, the younger of the two’s father had already hired a valet. She kindly offered a ride to me and the other American. So we were off in our small American enclave deep within Irish culture.

The regular niceties ensued. The younger, Brooke, was from Maryland as well; the older, Sarah (who was 27), from Colorado. Brook gave the impression of the normal American college student: not too interested in much beyond trying to fit in. Sarah’s quirky and ditsy coquettish demeanor reeked of sorority girl. But these were just gut feelings, which should never be ignored however, just secreted away for calculating conversation topics.

After we were unable to find our apartment we waited in the rain for the office to open for an hour and then parted ways. With a crushing force my body collapsed into bed, weary and bewildered.

I awoke to six rowdy Irish gents. One barged in after I turned my light on, and retreated like a scolded animal when I spoke up. I waited until one mentioned American football to introduce myself in the common room. True to my race, only considering what interests me. Perpetuation of race stereotypes sometimes gives you something to talk about, in a somewhat demeaning insidious way.

Only one of them was actually living with me, a burly rugby player who I know had taken a shining or two. His name was David, a law student who could enforce his own legality with his tenacity.

They soon left for some “cans” over in another dorm. Sure to raise hell in their own native land, in order to one day claim it.

My other roommate arrived soon after, an American from Colorado. I was relieved and disappointed at the same time. Relieved I would not have fight for social survival among two foreigners, but disappointed that I would not have to. The rest of the night consisted of a trip to the Wal-Mart-like Tesco fifteen minutes away and a round of drinks at the ON CAMPUS bar. Did I mention the bar was on campus? I could only imagine the law suits in America.

Anyways, after that I hit the hay hard and woke up the next day at 2pm. Fantastic! My trip is off to an utterly sublime beginning!