Sketching my Map

At the innermost core of all loneliness is a deep and powerful yearning for union with ones lost self. – Brendan Francis 

The pale blue sky stretches in to eternity above me, the moon faintly forms a crescent and the sun sets to the west. An aeroplane flies past, it almost seems fake, unrealistic as it glides to the pink clouds. “I wonder where they are going? Who’s on board” I muse to myself. 

Through out my life I have been there, gliding thousands of feet above the reality below. If not a majority of each year  was spent shuffling through one airport to the next. It has become my comfort zone, I walk through airports, with the lost travellers looking for direction, foreign languages intoxicate the air, I feel at peace. 

A huge sense of relief spreads through me as I sit in the lounges, coffee in hand, jet lagged and exhausted. The exhaustion turns into my fuel, a promise of a new adventure, a new beginning my drug. 

For the majority of my life, I have been neither here nor there, running away from my past and myself. With the thick humid air of the deserts that stretch beyond me, I flutter. 

It is only when you are lost, that you can find yourself. 



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