Don't think, just do?

The wheels inside my head continuously turn,
leaving each answered thought disrupted by the next.
The constant veering between avenues,
only allowing for an onset of more to ponder.

Tonight the wheels are centralizing on a very cliche topic for a college student.
What path am I on and where exactly am I trying to get?

There are a couple things I know about what I want to come in the future.
I want there to be music, writing, and New York.
In what context though?

So many aspects of different sects I find thoroughly enticing:
Music production, band management, music supervisor, all behind-the-scenes television work,
concert reviews, band reviews, radio, the blogosphere, etc.
I suppose I just need to find ways to experience them,
instead of doing such an impeccable job thinking about everything.

Mellow, mellow where art thou mellow?

A negative post was not in the plan,
but what is this for if not venting.

The efficiency of this study abroad program is lacking at best,
but that can be doable.
There is one aspect that I truly cannot seem to grasp any logic for,
the living situation.

They put us in the Student Village.
The Student Village is where all the "freshers" live.
Every house surrounding me is running rampant with "freshers".

My house specifically is supposedly made up of four 18 year old boys,
three fresher girls, and three Upperclass American students.
I say supposedly because I have not had less than 8 boys in my house since I arrived.

Though it was not my reaction to college,
I understand the idea that freshers come and drink constantly into oblivion.
Fine.
My question is why would you put all of us in the middle of them?
The on-campus dorms with experienced upperclassmen seems much more logical on every count in my book.
Oh well.

I guess I will be having many middle of the night posts,
due to the loud, drunkness I am currently coated in.

Is it 2012 or something? No, a pipe burst on the fifth floor.

Time to wipe the virtual dust off my corner table.
Feels very similar to the comfort of opening your go-to favorite book.

I have been in Swansea, Wales going on 12 days now,
it feels like at least a month.
I will be in this flooding, crack-den of a dorm hall until Wednesday,
but it has had some wondrous perks.
The other American students (those not in London for the pre-sessional) live here too.
How I got so lucky is beyond me,
but each of them have made me thankful to be an American in some way or another.

Swansea itself is immaculate.
The architecture, parks, and sea are breathtaking.
It is a city meant to be explored by foot,
though the bus seems to be the peoples' choice.

It is going to take me quite longer than I expected to figure out these people known as the Welsh.
For some reason, you (or I) walk into a country with such a historical connection to your own that your subconscious
tricks you into thinking you are a similar creature.
False.
So far, similarities are much harder to come by than I imagined coming in.
You know what they say about assuming...
It would seem from our one Canadian, great statistic I know,
that Canada and the UK are contrastingly very similar.
I will save my assessment for a while.

The hardest acclamation is very easy to pin-point,
FOOD!!!!
It is no lie that flavor is lost right past the immigration line.
There has been a saving grace however,


Franco is an Italian who hates Wales,
but knows how to run a restaurant.
Vast menu and delectable food,
by far best bang for the pound.

In the coming week I will move to the Student Flats, local students will arrive, finish the teaching part of the pre-sessional course, and head to Dublin.
Perfect storm for a superb post to follow.