I've always wanted to go to Ireland and not for the obvious Dublin punk pub experience but for the sights. I know it sounds like a cliche but after all they're l cliches because everyone feels them. I have no idea where this calling comes from, I have no family history in Ireland and from what I've heard there's really nothing to do in the country side.
Nothing to do, no distractions, a pause in time, maybe that' s what calls to me the most. I want a deep breath of fresh crisp air in a place with beautiful green cliffs that fall into oceans of abyss, I want to smell the earth after hard rains and hear the wind wailing through the hills. I want to see the sun fall from the sky, dive into the ocean and play with its silhouette then slowly sink into a peaceful sleep as the stars come out to play. I imagine them, the stars I mean, breaking through a thick black cloth brightly, jovially penetrating the darkness. Ireland, a place of fairies and leprechauns where Gothic undertones make the land something beautifully sorrowful, a place where I imagine the idea, the dream of magic to be still very much alive.
To be completely honest i have no idea what Ireland is like, the most I've seen of its country side was in "Whitnel and I" where two friends retreat to a cottage to get away from city life and have a horrible time in the process. However, the idea of my Ireland remains unfazed and one of these days I will go and lay by the cliffs and listen to the ocean battle with the land. I've been to Spain, France, Egypt and Portugal as well as various Caribbean islands and U.S states and Ireland still calls to me. Who knows what it is but I don't doubt its something, after all James Joyce was Irish.
Nothing to do, no distractions, a pause in time, maybe that' s what calls to me the most. I want a deep breath of fresh crisp air in a place with beautiful green cliffs that fall into oceans of abyss, I want to smell the earth after hard rains and hear the wind wailing through the hills. I want to see the sun fall from the sky, dive into the ocean and play with its silhouette then slowly sink into a peaceful sleep as the stars come out to play. I imagine them, the stars I mean, breaking through a thick black cloth brightly, jovially penetrating the darkness. Ireland, a place of fairies and leprechauns where Gothic undertones make the land something beautifully sorrowful, a place where I imagine the idea, the dream of magic to be still very much alive.
To be completely honest i have no idea what Ireland is like, the most I've seen of its country side was in "Whitnel and I" where two friends retreat to a cottage to get away from city life and have a horrible time in the process. However, the idea of my Ireland remains unfazed and one of these days I will go and lay by the cliffs and listen to the ocean battle with the land. I've been to Spain, France, Egypt and Portugal as well as various Caribbean islands and U.S states and Ireland still calls to me. Who knows what it is but I don't doubt its something, after all James Joyce was Irish.
RSS Feed