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This is my first entry, and to be entirely honest I dont know what im doing.

Idk if ill write more, but still.

English isn't my first language, so please keep that in mind.

There's something so undeniably sorrowful about the eurpoean countryside that I can't quite explain.

When I look out the windows from my train, I see old stone buildings, with antiquated architecture that seam to cry a heavy murmur. That which, to my ears, sounds like a plea for arrasure.

I think europe, in its entirety of 44 countries, is sad. History is carved into its land, its people, its food and its lenguege. History that is dampened with the cry of hugry and tired citadins. History that carries the guilt of generations, which now forms the contemporary Europe. European people carry a leaden guilt that weighs down their soul and doesn't allow the freedom of a deep breath to settle in to them. It makes me sad.

The hunger or its people planted its roots in the land far before any written record, and will continue to do so after those too, disappear.

The land becomes nostalgic with all that sentiment.

Europe is green, and damp. Its soil carries nostlgia to me, with Its old monuments, the shrinking "keeeeeeeeck" of the local train, unused and unchanged that stops at the smallest town down the northern coast of france, and which always reeks of old luggage. The plenitude of its green fields, sprinkled with white dots of sheep mowing at the grass. The stars reflected even during the day.

That surrowfulness i talked about earlier– its what becomes nostalgia. Europe to me will always be foreign, I am unaccountable in its plenitude, for I wasn't raised there, despite being born. And yet, the pressure of remembrance is still very present in my chest when I look out the window of that very same train, and as I look at the european countryside.

I crave for a place just like this that I can't seem to recall, one which I never quite knew, and yet I somehow remember. Maybe, just as the land carries the scars of pain and the metallic of blood, the people carry the memories of a Europe that once wasn't this tired.