A sense of familiarity washes over me. So much has happened in the span of 8 years and I’m no longer the person I was. Life was simpler then — a dream almost. It was easy to get lost in the back alleys teeming with people but I have always found comfort in the busyness of the city. A strange paradox, where being alone in a crowd made me feel more alive than ever. The rush was exhilarating and I kept craving more.
You can’t predict how the trajectory of your life will unfold. It’s like reading the pages of a fresh paperback novel. The best writers are those that keep you constantly on your toes. And the storyteller of life never reveals His secrets.
If you had told me all those years ago that I’d be experiencing the highs and lows of life with such theatrics, I’d ask for a refund. But life is a crazy, wonderful, sorrow-filled pain in the butt. And despite all the odds, I have survived thus far. So have you. That’s the beauty of living. You have to put in the hard heart work. The time and energy to grow into your destiny. The grit of going through trauma without letting the pain define you. Find your “why” in the midst of chaos.
For the memories, the new adventures, the fresh perspective. These city streets bring me back to my roots and act as a reminder of how far I’ve come and how much farther I will go. After a much-needed break from all the madness, a refreshed perspective is a welcome change and inspiration to reclaim my creativity is a bonus. Who would’ve thought that a change of environment, even for a short while, would rejuvenate the mind so much?
Travelling truly is a wonderful thing.
And such a privilege that should not be taken for granted.
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