Last night, before we went out, I was perusing through our Oxford emails and I decided to take a look back on my blog I kept throughout high school and my first year of college. Doing so, I came to the sad realization that I am no where near as outwardly thoughtful or poetic as I used to be. I have become so out of touch with myself as a writer, that I hardly remembered that I was one.
I remember myself falling out of the excitement and habit in Freshman year, but I was so far gone by Sophomore year that I didn't even know how to write anymore. I became overly critical and forgot that writing was art. This is what Danny reminded me of, when I went running back to our hostel room to find him journaling. I was really upset and he found it funny how upset I was. I asked him why and he was like "obviously your upsettedness means you still have the passion for it," and we discussed the importance of poetry, journaling and storytelling.
Fortunately, I believe that I can trace the reasons back to why I had abandoned writing. One, an obsession with school; two, a discovery of philosophy; three, the neglect of my own time, given to someone else; and four, my fear of failure.
Starting for me, personally, in Belfast (as I was reminded of how out of touch I was), and for the both of us in Dublin, this city has been the most enriching to us as students of the craft of writing and has reminded me how important it is to me, as a person, to continue to do so. We visited the Oscar Wilde memorial/statue, and frequented James Joyce's cites around the city (birth place, place of residence, memorial), all of which were the catalysts for writing inspired chatter, and a little bit of buffoonery :)
By far my favourite Oscar Wilde quote
On a more traveling note, after an amazing dinner, Danny and I headed to "The Brazen Head," which is most definitely the oldest pub in Ireland, and perhaps one of the oldest in the world! On the way, we found St. Patrick's Cathedral! It was beautiful at night lit up against the black sky.
Once at the pub, we each had a pint (he of Guinness, and me of cider), and enjoyed the trio of Irish musicians (consisting of an acoustic, a banjo and an accordion).
Also, back on our literary kick, this pamphlet explained the history of the Brazen Head. If you can't read it, it says: The Brazen Head was frequented by many of Dublin's literary community most notably James Joyce and Brendan Beahan. Furthermore The Brazen Head is reffered to in the "Eumaeus"chapter of Joyce's acclaimed Ulysses... "you got a decent enough do in The Brazen Head for a bob."
Once we returned to the hostel, Danny got antsy and went back out to the pubs, and I stayed in and met some really interesting people. Two were from Israel (one, born in Russia, the other, Romania) who were incredibly critical on the American PhD system, but were nicer to me when they asked me where I was going to study at abroad. We then talked of Russian and Dostoyevsky and fatalism and existentialism. It was pretty neat, you do meet the most fascinating people on the road.
PS, someone behind me is working on French homework. I'm extremely jealous; I've been out of school so long my brain feels like mush!
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