Time in Amsterdam

Sitting in an Irish pub just drank a pitcher of Stella Artois. Bartenders are subtly upset Irishmen. Two of them, in on a joke nobody else is aware of. Playing good music though. Walked around a rainy Amsterdam today. Went to the Van Gogh museum. Inspiring to me in a way. He wanted to be the best. Moved to Paris to be around other people perfecting their craft of painting. Took his favorite elements of theirs. Moved to the countryside to draw/paint and perfect his own voice. Really finding his own voice and way. A glass is dropped by the bartender. I need to find the idols. I need to work on myself. I have no plans. Losing path. Where do I want my Paris? My Grandma with dementia thinks it's 1953 and she is in Brooklyn. What will my Brooklyn be? What will inspire me?, but what is it I will remember? This city is crazy and beautiful. Controlled chaos. Looking for a reason to cut off my ear. The flying pig. Well see who is staying there at the bar. Open mind. I am anyone, they are everyone. It's all moving forward, and with you or without you, you are a part of it. You can move anywhere, do anything, be anyone. Life is flowing and it's right in front of you and sometimes you don't even realize it. Look forward. No anxiety.