I have no idea what’s happening right now. I have literally no idea what to do with myself. I don’t feel how I think I would feel. I don’t know if I’ve ever really been in a state of shock…but if ever I was…it would be now. I don’t think I can actually process what’s happening. I feel emotionally exhausted. I feel shocked that this is happening. But this is new. This is now. This is a whole new story. A whole new adventure. Of course the memories are flooding me with what I felt and how absolutely horrified I was and how odd it is to feel strangely calm, almost uneffected. I’m excited. I’m ready in some ways. And then in other ways the concept of all that travelling brings back memories that I’m not sure I’m ready to go back to. I’m not sure why they’ve become tainted- maybe because they seem to represent a part of me that feels alienating and eternally lost.

I don’t think I’m ready for the language barrier. I don’t think I’m ready for petty socializing. I think I’m ready to be alone. I think I’m a great traveller. I am and I’m not ready to meet new people. 

I’m heaving in deep breaths of everything under the sun. This is my time. This is wild imagination at its finest.

Why does this feel SO much less stressful and scary and intimidating as Australia? This feels SO easy. Too easy… 

My last moments in America. I’m trying to take it in but I’m not even sure what to take in. It’s pretty mind blowing what’s happening and the truth is I have no idea what I’ll miss. Sigs in English, maybe. The truth is I can not KNOW…I stand on a precipise. I stand unfolding on the fold. I sit as a monument to a dying fragment of a temporal slice. I feel I might actually miss the winter. She is a beautiful desolate season of clarity, silence and eternity. This is the transit time and it is full of all things shiny and unclear. Unsee-able.  




And after the storm,
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck,
I look up.

Night has always pushed up day
You must know life to see decay
But I won’t rot, I won’t rot
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won’t rot.

And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.

And now I cling to what I knew
I saw exactly what was true
But oh no more.
That’s why I hold,
That’s why I hold with all I have.
That’s why I hold.

I will die alone and be left there.
Well I guess I’ll just go home,
Oh God knows where.
Because death is just so full and mine so small.
Well I’m scared of what’s behind and what’s before.

And there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

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