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FFW

Stage one

Almost a year ago was the last time I was here. I think things have this weird ripening time, my life's events are elephant calves. They grow slowly then they just pop.
The year is gone, with many things. Changes. Solitude changes things. I am not talking about how and what you do, but rather, turning from external sightseeing more towards your internal tours. How your emotions change or do they change. Will you have the will to maintain who you are. Can you make contact, or you rather lose all with yourself.
It was a year of experiences about myself. A reshuflling of worths in my set of values. In what I consider worthwhile and what something that will just go with the flow. Concentrations is difficult sometimes and I must say it was one thing I have learnt. Where I came to, the percieved safety of a job is slipping away, yet panic or angst has not set in yet. I looked back. Not only to this year but many others before this one. Reviewed and sieved what should be saved and what was jus there to fill this bag of time and space.
We met again with my thoughts attending three tables in this busy month. At one table sat my career, pretty much summing up itself. Having conversations and drinking red wines. They hardly talked. The second table was this sometimes noisy sometimes solemn group of all sorts of creatures. They were brainstorming. The guy in the suit new those of the first table, insisting on going that way. Then there was this woodstock-like dressed self-proclaimed pseudo-artist guy talking about the skies all the time, and some other characters, making sense of the talks of the two. And there was my favourite, third table. With her, and friends and family.
So we met. Nothing in me has fainted since the last time some years ago. Having been listening to the murmur and susurrus of these tables found me with hightened emotions and the will to just chill a bit. To relax. Silence me inside. Sensual and explosive mixture.
Than awakening again. Looking at the tables. A taste hard to judge whether sweet or sugary, whether tingy lime or bitter lemon, but for sure something worth it all.
Sometimes one must give existence a push. Go to its limits and make decisions more frightening and further reaching than could be possibly imagined. These decisions are, in me, spontaneous. The one, with the sneakrs and rolled up jeans, in that battered leather coat makes them. The free one. He could cope with anything he dared so far. I just hope, that this will be the case again.

The wheels were set in motion on a ground of running sand of emotions, resources, outcomes and in general all aspects. But this free me, is the one who gave me all what I am going to take with me when the time comes. Good, bad. Nothing inbetween.

The wheels I dreamt of are set in motion. Brakes are disengaged. And, if all goes as "planned" in just a month they will start to rev up. Beyond anything that I, the me-me would consier, remotely sane.

Posted by Torch42 09:13 Archived in United Kingdom Tagged living_abroad

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