Know Thyself.

The abroad experience has baggage. It's a four month adventure; a girl has to pack her shoes and chargers and prescriptions. And then there is the other baggage: the 'superior' advice of elders and friends, the "listen! listen! this is what you SHOULD/COULD/MUST DO!" This is the heaviest. There are pub crawls and pastries and and sloppy boys and iced drinks and discos and boutiques and churches overflowing with poetry and music and street festivals and libraries and sculptures and villas and rivers and street signs and cobblestones and maps and metros and I MUST SEE IT ALL! I MUST LIVE! Well. I want it all (well, not all of it) but I can't. There isn't enough of me, the remysponge, to soak it all up. I hope that is ok. And if it isn't, I will simply put my headphones on and drown you out. As the Ancients said 'Know Thyself' and even if kills me a little, I can say that I do.