Irish Luck.

There is something about sitting around the living room of our little college apartment on the West Coast, the scent of frying meat shimmering in from the kitchen, as we toss Irish words into the air. Trying to translate our most commonly used phrases into our mother tongue. Or rather, what should have been our mother tongue.

Watched a video this week on why Ireland has so many great authors. I’ve always believed that the way we speak backwards, fast, the need to be constantly telling stories, makes our great authors. We couldn’t use our own language, so we were forced to learn and adapt to a new form of talking, while keeping our own secrets. I think a lot of low-context societies are built on this foundation.

Anyways.

Realised this week that I am the luckiest girl in the world. Think I always knew, just now realised. Why else do we keep going?