bloug

I am a bit overly affected by beauty. Physically, emotionally affected, to the extent that some days I can barely stand to look out my front door, my street is so ugly. Yet if I walk two blocks East or West from here I am arrested by the sublime beauty of the rolling countryside. I love to gaze at the clouds and the stars and the sunset, and I know that people stare at me because I look so goofy while I'm doing it.

This is something I need to keep in mind when finding a place to live in the future. The most depressed I have ever been is when I live in a home that I find to be ugly. Convenience or comfort are not half as important as beauty.

I've harped on it enough already, but I found my neighborhood in Nueva Germania to be gloriously beautiful, even with the poverty and the inconveniences that it presented. It filled my heart just to walk around the block or sit on my porch as the sun went down behind the trees and the kids played soccer on the grass in the 'street' and the fireflies came out and the swallows and bats flew around eating them.
it was effing idylic

I am so sick of hearing motos drive by.