“Two years” I thought as walked across the wide river, high upon the broad familiar bridge as large sports utility vehicles inched forward in turns to my left in the stop and start traffic. The afternoon sun suddenly appeared under a wall of dark clouds as it reddened and fell rapidly towards the horizon.
I let out a long silent yawn. My stress had gotten the better of me lately and I was sleeping little and lightly. Stress, and excitement. There were many things that had to be sorted out and lots of travel coming up before I left. As I passed the halfway point on the bridge I opened the inbox on my phone and found the itinerary of my one-way ticket, it won’t be long now.
“What about your little blog?” I mused once I passed the far side of the bridge. It had started almost exactly two years ago when I was leaving somewhere else. An adventure in a new world told in random disjoint episodes interspersed with libertarian rantings and literary experiments. I had no audience, but never wanted one. It was a vehicle to practice writing, to get used to doing it regularly. To learn how to write opinions and tell stories. To document in episodes what was itself a rather short episode in the larger narrative of my own life.
“Mission accomplished, then” I thought as I pictured George W smiling on an aircraft carrier. The picture of the hopelessly premature celebration mocked me in my self-congratulation. But yes, this little blog’s mission was over. The journey was ending, I was leaving. I had practiced and improved, and I did keep it up. One could improve endlessly, and besides, ending this on its anniversary was just too tempting.
"I'll start another blog", I thought to myself as I walked through the damp streets of the city I called home. Would you have time, what with all the travel and hassle you have until February? What about the topic, concept and style? Write more opinions to vent my frustration at the decline of freedom and capitalism? Focus on telling the story of my next adventure, maybe, and try out some other writing styles. Maybe even mention actual place names this time.
Yes. New city, new country, new blog. I’ll start as soon as I’m settled. I’ll decide what to write about and how as I’m on that long one-way plane ride to my next adventure. To my current home, I say goodbye, nice knowing you. It’s been terrible and great, as life always is. After all, as you’ve taught me, it’s not the city that makes it your home, but something elusive within oneself.
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| Alas, cat, we must part ways. Don't look at me like that. Argh! He bit me! |
