los ultimos dias con la playa
we just returned from the four hour trip back from Manzanillo. we stayed in an all-inclusive resort for one night and dears, i left my heart on that coast. combine free booze, tons of food, perfect weather, swim up bars, the sounds of waves out my window, and parents footing the bill and you have a very contento candace.
tomorrow, i return to the states.
it will be hard to de-spanish my brain once again, as i have been thinking and dreaming in spanish this week.
my writing feels like my skin.
warm, but weathered.
tomorrow holds:
tomorrow, i return to the states.
it will be hard to de-spanish my brain once again, as i have been thinking and dreaming in spanish this week.
my writing feels like my skin.
warm, but weathered.
tomorrow holds:
- a two hour drive to airport
- two 3 hour flights
- arrival at 9pm to my lovers' arms, only to drive back to the airport and drop him off the next morning for a work trip.
i am looking forward to a new chapter of my life, but i am still so anxious and scared. i kind of thought being away physically from the fear would keep me emotionally distanced as well. i should have known better; Emerson warned me of that not three weeks ago. he said that despite all the beauty and benefit of travel, one thing prevails. YOU. you can never leave yourself behind...and so you will find that staring at the Sistine chapel, the Mediterranean, or hagia sophia - that your fears are still there.
and so i know i should turn around and address the fear.
it has always been my strong-suit - to run into the fire...
in a moment of weakness,
crm
(mexico pictures to come this week).
and so i know i should turn around and address the fear.
it has always been my strong-suit - to run into the fire...
but this time i seem to lack the faith.
and instead of a path i know is marked for me,
i see a turned back, another abandonment, and again,
here i am.
forced to make my own destiny.
and tonight,
tonight...
i resent it.
and instead of a path i know is marked for me,
i see a turned back, another abandonment, and again,
here i am.
forced to make my own destiny.
and tonight,
tonight...
i resent it.
in a moment of weakness,
crm
(mexico pictures to come this week).
5 comments:
"my writing feels like my skin.
warm, but weathered."
These words are hope, belief and truth.
Destiny is a bitch and refuses to break us in easy. And all the clichés that roll off tongues so easily do nothing to help us in times like these. So all I can say is that I will believe in you when you can not, much as you have done for me.
We're going to make it.
umber, ah so this is what it feels like to trust that if you follow the desires of the artist inside, it's like that indigo blue, which looks so black, but is rich in color when mixed with the water of tears.
I will push you ahead of me, arms attached to your waist as I crouch behind your tall, redwood shadow. Thank you for being a guard.
the mediterranean and hagia sofia, apt examples. part of me still stands on the shore of the bluest sea god ever made and the grandest mosque man ever made.
perhaps your hesitance isn't cowardice or distrust, but wisdom. taking pause when faced with a fire seems utterly reasonable.
glad your back, love.
i adore you miss candace. happy travels.
Hola chica.
I'm glad to hear that you were not kidnapped while on the holiday....
Go to HMO.
I"ll meet you there.
XO
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