Thursday, 9 June 2011


This week I'm staying with my father's family.

Walking along the river bank all the way to the castle near the sea, dancing around the kitchen while cooking, running around this vast green garden with my siblings, reading reading reading on the grass beneath the apple tree.

Watching a bulb of tea drenched in steaming water open up into an artificial flower, seeing the skin between my fingers grow paler in comparison with my steadily darkening tan.

This is everything I've been needing, that longed-for perspective. Watching my life from a distance, a physical distance. Home is but a place on a map.

Yesterday I took the bus into town by myself. I know few people in this city and so I could walk around without having to watch out for familiar faces. I ate at a restaurant by myself, reading Ondaatje, then sat on the river bank for an hour or so as the sun made its slow descent. It's been a long time since I've last been this peaceful.

I return home tomorrow and I'm hoping to bring some of this with me, some quiet and calm. Because there are things to be done and no matter how easy, there are only so many times I can think I can't do this before I begin to believe it.

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