Packing your things for some is a labour of love while for others it is the beginning to something they have put off as far as they could until they cannot run away from it any longer.
Bag is packed or at least there are only a few more things needed in there to make it all complete to begin this journey into another new beginning like this year has been for me, soul searching for a reason why I exist in this desolate place filled with epic adventures and mysteries to be solved. Internally and externally. Physically and mentally. This journey has marked a new beginning or a milestone into something I would consider a new part of my new destiny.
Like all the things all of them neatly packed and all over the whole way through the motion into a well neat place with everything in its place. No sleeve with an ace. With the wind in the face and the sky so high I know I will glide through them in the next two days time on my way back to where I thought I belonged permanently at one point of my life spanning two and half decades of my life committed to a cause I gave all even the ugly side of me in the quest to be as honest as a man can be. That is where I went wrong I think, too bad there is no save point to restart from the lesson learned. So I ask myself and answer it at at the same instant why I am doing this all inside my brain as quickly as time slipped from my fingers like fine sand slipping away moments hours days and years.
There is always this serene frown in the face thinking about what will happen when I step off the plane and the shoe I wear scrapes the ground I walk on to where I will eventually rest my head for a night or more as I finish and close a door on one part of this storied life to start a new tale not yet written but already repeated inside the grey matter inside the skull.
in the pursuit of happiness?
In the pursuit of purpose and reason just to feel like I belong to something and gain everything along the way because lessons are everything when you start with nothing to begin with, an empty shell ready to be filled with something new and maybe exciting.
The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thought. Marcus Aurelius
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