Prague 04/08

We'll Always have Prague. I cannot begin to capture the beauty and the character that is Prague. The biblical statues on the Charles River, the flesh toned marble in St. Nicholas Cathedral, the sight of Prague Castle at night can leave anyone inspired. That's what draws all the tourists here-that old country feel from looming baroque buildings mixed with a fairly young population-a blend of the past and the present with hope towards the future.
Yet that's the only part of Prague most tourists have seen, the renovated cathedrals mixed with the clean pubs, restaurants, and shops. Strolling through Central Prague you see plenty of souvenir shops hotels, and 'authentic Czech food; but after 5 minutes you realized they're missing one thing--houses. The Prague you are shown isn't the one Czechs live in.
Earlier today Joyce and I ventured into Ziscov, past the novo mestro and the mala strana, beyond the stores and hordes and discovered merely 10 mins by foot a neighborhood worn down by the ages, untouched by speculators, grafittied, apparently abandoned by the rest of the city to fend for themselves.
It was so beautiful.
Prague has evoked so many emotions within me, stirring an unstable concoction and igniting a fire within the depths of my body. Superficially I've explored, seen gorgeous things, seen ugly/beautiful things, drank absinthe, danced in the largest club in Central Europe (or so they advertise) and worn down the soles of my shoes, but nothing compares to the banks of the Vltava River. The perfect moment--an instance where everything makes sense and nothing in the world can compare. For a moment, you feel so alive that everything in the universe: all your heartaches, your happiness, your envies and your monotonies can be summed up in something tangible. For a moment, you feel like you can die and that'll be alright...because in that split second you feel like you're truly satisfied.
Biscuits, chips, and Damien Rice on a dock off the Vltava River at midnight. Rice playing faintly in our ears as the sound of the water flowing and the ducks quacking act as the ambient background. I stare at a classically Renaissance building gilded gold with stone bricks and green rooftops. The statues of a driver and his horses makes it look a little like an oversized carriage. It may be the most beautiful building I've ever seen, glowing brightly against the twilight sky.
It's a great way to leave Prague, a city I have some conflicts in loving. I know some of it is contrived, made up under veneers of pleasantness and simplicity.

But it's so goddamn gorgeous