Last night I met a girl and tried to make small conversation in the little Italian I know. She goes to the university like everyone. She studies. He studies. They all study or work the days and out the nights. She asked what I do. Do I go school as well? What am I doing here. Well, now that's a mighty giant question to ask anyone on their first meeting. But I thought about it and said no, I don't attend a school of any sort. I'm just an artist. Alone. Here in Italy. Ummmm, traveling, living, undecided. Yeah, I'll take that route. I've always been the one who everyones waiting for at the gas station pit stops, back inside trying to decide weather I want the trail mix or a bag of chips. My passengering friend added, "the good life" with a distant look. That phrase took me by surprise and I drove on with that it my head for a few minutes realizing, it's totally true. Don't knock on wood, but think that way. It humbled me. I'm thankful. Greatful to whomever, and everyone along all the paths. I rumbed my eyes, and they turned red and blurred my vision into the reality that is these days and times we're in. Aye, I don't know what I'm trying to say, but this phrase broke a new outlook. Sometimes I'm a selfish idiot unrealizing the fruit of my labors is this.wooah.