"Don't pine -- it kills." (Says the wise novelist.)
And yet, I'd give much to be in the sbux by the parliament building in Belgrade, sipping a $2 decaf Americano and waiting for the curtain at the JDP or national theatre. Maybe some bread and coffee in Studentski Park beforehand if the latter.
And yet, when that was my reality, I was caught up in the mental difficulties of peripatetic exile, and keeping up the work, while keeping the coffers sufficiently coiffed.
And here, despite the considerable (yes) difficulties, I have access to the books that I need.
In every place, a small grace. But the difficulties are extraordinary, and many years have now passed.
Time, thou must untiest this knot, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me to untie.