Part of me half wishes I could take FJ to the airport, put him on the plane to Rio and then turn around and keep going.
I don´t want to come home…part of me doesn´t want a home to come back to.
The Jellicle knows how much I love him so please don´t start telling me how awful I am.
The plan was always to keep wandering, keep walking, the road just grabs you sometimes and it pulls you half way around the world. Keep walking, keep writing, I could get a job here maybe providing English for cash in hand enough to keep my room at this hostel…or maybe downgrade to a bed in a dorm room.
I have a house, a place to stay, even responsibilities but the next journey has an addictive quality to it. Just one more toke before I die…
Travelling with a companion has been amazing, awesome and ultimately very different in some ways, another person´s perspective is always good I guess. Some of the things I´ve done whilst travelling (not this trip) have been incredibly stupid and even dangerous, some of the same things have been the best of my experiences.
I will come home. But I´m not the sort of person to stay, I´ve tried that, I know the circumstances in which I could do the Japanese Mother thing but I realised in Finsbury Park with one of the Most Interesting Women I Know that that happens once in a blue moon. Everything is temporary in life and that´s always been what I loved but Japan screwed with my head, I came back half asleep and it´s only after waking up, running to see the sunrise over Machu Picchu, and having to look out for FJ in a south american city that I´m back, I´m here, it feels like I´ve been trying to surface for a long time now…about five years I guess.
The last five years…my gods what have I been doing? I´ve been so asleep and yet…still I´ve been there, in the back ground, to worried about things to be Mish, full throttle, too worried about hurting people about being polite. Guess I will fly back then, if only to set this record straight.
I´m back and I´m not stopping for anyone.