What I Want Right Now

I'm tired, but I am keyed up.  I should go on to bed, but I feel energy zinging through me uselessly, pointlessly.  Why?  To what end?  What is churning up the murky depths of my mind?  I don't know.  I am just...unsettled.  So, I'm going to blog.  Here's a list of things I want right now.  Maybe if I shift all the pieces around, some order or picture will emerge.

• To be sitting on the bench in the library in Trinity College in Dublin surrounded by books and silence and light.  I would like to stay there until that peace made from the presence of knowledge and tiny little atoms of ancient books fills me up like a spirit.  I don't even care about the Book of Kells, although that is a different kind of wonder.  I just want to be in that temple to books and breathe in.
• To have the other fountain pen I didn't have the money to buy in that shop just off the square in Vatican City.  There were two in that glorious little closet-sized shop full of them that I loved. I chose a Caran d'Ache that would travel well and I love it, but my fingers still itch for the multi-colored resin glory of the other.
• To build a workshop out back of my house.  I want a place where I can do my pottery and my stained glass, cut things out of plywood and leave my messes when I'm done.  I miss making things, but glass and pottery are messy, and I don't have "mess space" here.  Glass especially causes problems and holes in the foot if one isn't careful, not to mention the storage issues with the tools and materials.  I need a space.
• To find a way out.  A clear path.  An open door.
• To have someone to read poetry to and with.  And talk about books and kitsch and the state of the world and stupid science fiction theories with.  And go see the Colosseum again with.  Or the Buddhas in Sukhothai.  Or watch whatever happens to be on TV.  Or wake up next to.  And most definitely kiss. Lots.  Slowly. Until there's nothing else in the whole world but that, the taste of him, the sound of his breathing.
• To live in Florence.  The city caught me.  I'd like to live there long enough to learn it, and not just the "Disney World" version of it as the guide we had called the Old City.  I'd like to live there long enough to know it like a place that's home.

Pretty dreams.  Pretty pieces to tumble in the light.  I think I'll go to bed now and see if sleep will take me.  Maybe I can toss these bits together lightly and not have bad dreams tonight.