Thankgiving
Happy Thanksgiving, pumpkin pancakes for breakfast in a foreign, dirty ass house. An angel let me sleep in her bed last night and I got a full night's sleep for once. Now we're miles away, stranded, once again, with the scent of chlorine and coffee. What am I thankful for this year? It's my most thankful year yet. I haven't stopped yelling it from the top of my lungs since the Bay of Islands. That was a year ago, huh? You and I, flannel clad in the rain, completely alone on the opposite side of the world. Then and now. Well, thank you more please for everything; the places we've seen, strangers we've loved, lands we've grounded ourselves on, support systems and the mattresses on the floor. But mostly thanks for you and me, for unrequited love and laughing at every misfortune that comes our way. Thank you for brushing it off your shoulders, for the package that saved our lives that lonely week, the emails I came home to. Thank you for showing me who you really are, and who you really are too, you, you and you also. Thanks for showing me myself, more than anything, thank you for that. Finally, thank you for this adventure I'm about to step off into. Have fun stuffing your face at home, I'm jumping off another cliff and surviving off chocolate, peanut butter, pancakes cigarettes and caffeine.
I saw a woman today with the same exact hair as me. She sat in Mono Expresso cafe with a book in a corner. She was in her 50's, 60's, with a green sweater and brown hair sprinkled with faded purple and grey. It curled the same way mine did, in similar places. Later we sat on the train and rode through Sydney, over the harbors, past the Opera House and through the suburbs. It started to feel like goodbye, goodbye followed by "Hello, hello I'm back and ready to conquer." Local Natives sang in my ears about Australia on Halloween, it's funny how the soundtrack is always so appropriate.
Recently the honesty has been falling from my pores, I can't find a way to keep it inside and I don't want to. How glorious, how freeing, rejuvenating and liberating. Here, they're really doing it. And I get to come back and finish what I started. Even though there are no clear cut reasons why I should, there is an overwhelming calm feeling that it's right.
I saw a woman today with the same exact hair as me. She sat in Mono Expresso cafe with a book in a corner. She was in her 50's, 60's, with a green sweater and brown hair sprinkled with faded purple and grey. It curled the same way mine did, in similar places. Later we sat on the train and rode through Sydney, over the harbors, past the Opera House and through the suburbs. It started to feel like goodbye, goodbye followed by "Hello, hello I'm back and ready to conquer." Local Natives sang in my ears about Australia on Halloween, it's funny how the soundtrack is always so appropriate.
Recently the honesty has been falling from my pores, I can't find a way to keep it inside and I don't want to. How glorious, how freeing, rejuvenating and liberating. Here, they're really doing it. And I get to come back and finish what I started. Even though there are no clear cut reasons why I should, there is an overwhelming calm feeling that it's right.
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