(visi)goth

There is some one myth for every man, which if we but knew it, would make us understand all that he did and thought. 

W. B. Yeats 

I miss England. The thought comes to me randomly as I sit with an iced mocha flanking my laptop. I've decided to have a bagel with my coffee today, something more than the stabilizing force of caffeine to stave off the deep seated exhaustion that's plagued me as of late. Last night I walked the night in a trench coat as though my attire would bring forth something from a Hellblazer comic.  I play pretend into adulthood. On nights like these, I did not have the comfort of destination. 

Though I'd only been for a week, there was a romanticism to London that I yearned for. dreams of encountering an occult cabal and psychic quest in pursuit of arthurian mystery are lended plausibility given the setting, fodder for the obsessive fantasist. 

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