29 take #4
If i learned anything about myself in the past 30+ years, it's if and when i feel like doing something, i should do it otherwise that want, need and desire withers away and dies a horrible unspoken death.
This morning i woke up and decided to make a cup of coffee and write, granted i had to type which gives me zero to no pleasure at all, but how else would i be able to share with you lovely creatures of curiosity what's going on in my brain.
there's something about writing that allows me to express better, could be the smudges of wet ink or pencil, which i find unfathomably sexy. Or it could be the fact that part of you goes into the paper as your letters curve one by one to make a little dance on a flat surface making it come alive.
Bah humbug! i digress! I sit here at my light brown dining table surrounded by everything our cozy apartment has to offer, 2 fluffy cats, color coordinated furniture, a view of green and blue, and it all feels like a watermark background or a clipping from "Better Homes" magazine. For some reason the need to play music is not hovering over my head, strange.
September, 2016. The year i turned 29 for the 4th time, making me a whopping 32. Now before you get all worked up and feel the need to remind me that it's just a number and i don't look/act/seem it. i will retort with this: you're right!
This year has been a very intense year on a personal level, a great deal of self analysis, a considerable amount of loss and gain, a plethora of mistakes and raw tears.
And this is not to say that this year wasn't blessed with beautiful moments either, the copious amount of trips i've been on, all the love that makes your heart skip a beat, the magic that takes your breath away. Oh yes, 2016 has been a great year!
If i may brag a little, I've been on so many unplanned trips this year, and i've met hundreds of people, good people, people who've left an impression, a finger print, people i'm thankful i got to clink glasses with, celebrate with, mourn with, made love and bid adieu to.
I would like to take through a more detailed journey, dedicated longer posts, with pictures, music, links, maps and everything i can get my hands on so you can maybe perhaps experience what i've been through or maybe be inspired to go on your own journey.
last night, somewhere between the strobe lights and the beat drops, in a dark room filled with swaying bodies and smiling faces, hands flew up in the air and feet stomped everywhere. A gentle voice, uttered a kind request "Bana you should write" this came out of nowhere, with no preconception or any shadow of a previous conversation. It, for the lack of better words and in lament terms 'came of the blue'.
My sober self paused, long and hard, absorbing what this person was trying to tell me and unleashed it into a more elevated understanding that I and only I would later deconstruct as a sign. A sign that shone brighter than the clubs luminous lights and made it apparent that 'Bana you SHOULD write'
And thus, i will, i am.
If i learned anything about myself in the past 30+ years, it's if and when i feel like doing something, i should do it otherwise that want, need and desire withers away and dies a horrible unspoken death.
This morning i woke up and decided to make a cup of coffee and write, granted i had to type which gives me zero to no pleasure at all, but how else would i be able to share with you lovely creatures of curiosity what's going on in my brain.
there's something about writing that allows me to express better, could be the smudges of wet ink or pencil, which i find unfathomably sexy. Or it could be the fact that part of you goes into the paper as your letters curve one by one to make a little dance on a flat surface making it come alive.
Bah humbug! i digress! I sit here at my light brown dining table surrounded by everything our cozy apartment has to offer, 2 fluffy cats, color coordinated furniture, a view of green and blue, and it all feels like a watermark background or a clipping from "Better Homes" magazine. For some reason the need to play music is not hovering over my head, strange.
September, 2016. The year i turned 29 for the 4th time, making me a whopping 32. Now before you get all worked up and feel the need to remind me that it's just a number and i don't look/act/seem it. i will retort with this: you're right!
This year has been a very intense year on a personal level, a great deal of self analysis, a considerable amount of loss and gain, a plethora of mistakes and raw tears.
And this is not to say that this year wasn't blessed with beautiful moments either, the copious amount of trips i've been on, all the love that makes your heart skip a beat, the magic that takes your breath away. Oh yes, 2016 has been a great year!
If i may brag a little, I've been on so many unplanned trips this year, and i've met hundreds of people, good people, people who've left an impression, a finger print, people i'm thankful i got to clink glasses with, celebrate with, mourn with, made love and bid adieu to.
I would like to take through a more detailed journey, dedicated longer posts, with pictures, music, links, maps and everything i can get my hands on so you can maybe perhaps experience what i've been through or maybe be inspired to go on your own journey.
last night, somewhere between the strobe lights and the beat drops, in a dark room filled with swaying bodies and smiling faces, hands flew up in the air and feet stomped everywhere. A gentle voice, uttered a kind request "Bana you should write" this came out of nowhere, with no preconception or any shadow of a previous conversation. It, for the lack of better words and in lament terms 'came of the blue'.
My sober self paused, long and hard, absorbing what this person was trying to tell me and unleashed it into a more elevated understanding that I and only I would later deconstruct as a sign. A sign that shone brighter than the clubs luminous lights and made it apparent that 'Bana you SHOULD write'
And thus, i will, i am.
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