galway bay

i am thinking about galway tonite...i miss going to the local off-license and buying some cans of murphy's or a bottle of wine, maybe a pint of whiskey and walking down to the bay...i would sit there among the garbage and weeds and stare at the outgoing tide...the bay, at least in galway city, is not as picturesque as the endless songs make it out to be...but then i suppose the irish could make anything out to be beautiful...i would spend afternoons out on the wind swept plains wasting a sweatered summer...some days the melancholy of the spanish slaves of old would take me in, other days the spirit of the whiskey would corrupt me, and sometimes i would end up simply being me...what a strange time that was...my favourite pub was nestled away from the main city though still lively...every night the forks and spoons would hit the glasses and some rusty old soul would stand up and recite poetry or sing a song from memory...this could go on for awhile and i would just sit back, close my eyes, and enjoy...that is what is lacking in the states, both sincerity and knowledge...i suppose if you cannot put a price on it, it does not exist in this place...that is fine with me, i am not complaining, but it is an observation that i just cannot overlook...are you wasting your time? is there money to be made off this?...why are you doing that if you can't sell it?...these are all valid questions i suppose, and that is why i guess i will never be successful at anything...but hey i am not concerned...just point me in the direction of the ocean, float me back to galway bay, rest me underneath the spanish arch, carry me to the crow bar, and i will once again be free...