It all transpired against the bricks. The letters were etched…
I wish I was leaving for somewhere right now. A ticked clasped in hand, a suitcase full of modest necessities and a clear mind. Murky ruins ahead that would silently weep for all that is lost and clear skies overhead as a reminder of all that remains to be achieved. Waking up to the sound of a bird’s first cry, following clouds trailing across clear blue skies and falling asleep under a blanket of stars. When the length of shadows falling on a sheet of grass would nudgingly tell me “it’s time”, lashing waves in the distance would echo “there’s still time”.
Crystals of saline on my now tanned skin, streaks of bleached hair not spared by the sun and faint hints of yesterday’s feathering lip colour. Drenched in a sea of new words and finding music in raspy voices, reading the alien faces around and writing my version of their story. Exploring tastes new to the palate, taking roads that don’t show up on the weathered map and remembering names that will never be forgotten. Walking bare feet on the velvet greens, wading through the rippled seas and waddling to the highest cliff. Going forth, alone.
Sipping on the locally brewed tea and jotting down every detail, so as to never forget, in an old diary. Savouring every slice of silence. Ticket stubs, a bottle of sand, the local currency and a note left by a stranger. The only tangible remains that would remain.
Been itching to travel, travel alone to be precise, since a few months now. Woke up early this morning and penned the above lines in a tweet by tweet manner here and storified all the tweets for this blog post. Incidentally it seems to do justice to this hat-and-midi dress-outfit in a way. Quite a comfortable yet stylish option for a vacay, right?
Till the next post,
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