The sun dipped its brush in the fog this morning, drawing perfect pastels over the mountaintops. It was a little after 7 and I took the long route home, enjoying the warmliness of this brand new autumn day.

There is some magic about the airports; they tend to highlight the human in us.

You hugged me and asked me to take care of myself. "You are going there so you can be useful to the people, so be smart and do what you have to be useful," you said. For the first time I felt you are finally at peace with my decision and maybe even respect it. For the first time I felt such sincerity in your tears, clear of attempts to prevent me from going.

Yet it was you leaving this morning, not me. I stood there for the longest time watching the two of you go through the security line, his striped shirt allowing me to tell you apart from the crowd. I wanted to keep looking at you. We parted lifestyles a while ago and those are only geographical directions we are parting today. Dots on the map. Longitudes and latitudes.

When we get back together, things won’t be the same, I thought, and I think you felt it, too. I could see it in your tears. I love you, mom. Good bye and safe journey.

* * *

I will be gone for some time and I will miss blogging, and all of the wonderful writers I've been just starting to get to know. I should be back by mid-December if things go as planned. I will try to get online every now and then, most probably on weekends, if I get a chance. Please stop by Dreaming of Africa if you want to follow my journey.

Currently listening to Dark Road by Annie Lennox (from "Songs of Mass Destruction")


You are humble, and brave, and full of understanding, and laughter... And sometimes I sit there and reflect on how exceptionally lucky I am to have you as a friend. And then I can’t help but wonder... what have I done to deserve you in my life?

Image credit: Inominatus

Currently listening to Pearls by Angelique Kidjo & Josh Groban

Inside an hourglass

This thinking grips my heart
And squeezes it, and bends
I can’t tell you apart
From where my dreaming ends
I might have felt your pride
Elusiveness so tender
Despite this vast divide
Temptation to surrender
You might have dug my mind
From underneath the laughter
So does this world unkind
Allow the ever after?

* * *

I know, they are called the Atlantic… Sometimes fortune cookies really creep me out. But then again, I prefer reading between the lines. I might be on the verge of crossing the great waters in my life, the journey that many won’t understand, especially family. My mind is set however, and I know I can reach the other shore... as I long I remember to breathe.

Currently listening to Erykah Badu & Stephen Marley

Can I keep this one... please?

Have you ever felt as if something you dreamed up is right there, within the hand’s reach, so real yet extremely fragile? Did you jump right at it or stop breathing for a minute, not to spook it, fearing that something so good can disappear so easily? Isn’t that how real life works? Aren’t things that are too good normally also too elusive to be kept by anyone for longer that several happy heartbeats?

Image credit: happysak
Currently listening to Warchild by Immanuel Jal

Beyond the twigs

I lost myself in the city
Counting the twigs
When it gave me the glimpse of its heartbeat >>>

Maybe they were arteries...
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