The Oregon Trail.

When you embark on a journey, you always set out to find yourself. In your wonderland expectations of personality and living. You run to the highest mountains and sink in the deepest seas. Crave the adventure of new experiences and wish for completely new beginnings. When I packed my bags, I wished it was for forever. I wished that I could be a lost soul and roam the coast until I found myself again. That I could run away to the mountains and be lost amongst the greenery settings. All the years I hid behind the shadows, I never realized how much I missed the sun.


There is a picturesque magic of the western coast. Something people seldom see. Sometimes even we that reside on the west coast, become so jaded by our own thoughts that we forget how beautiful we have it. If I could photograph every line of the journey, I would. Even photographs wouldn’t do it justice. The magic of the greens from the trees, the beauty of the waters so clear, and how the air just fills your lungs with this joyous pure emotion. If this was forever, I would take it. Take every last bite of this green earth and return to the trails of Oregon. I am living in a dream and only reality could bring me down to earth.


I spent a lifetime hiding in the shadows of my misery, missing opportunities of the sun. The roads that lead to nowhere seem to guide you home. Most days, I don’t even know where home is. Home is a combination of here to there and a little bit of everywhere. Passenger seats and confessing my deepest hopes to the dashboard of road companions. Where do we go from here? To the deep blue seas and the frigid waters of the lakes hidden in the trees. To the people that make you feel alive and the strangers that hit you with the reality of coming home. I am never ready to go home. Never ready to even entertain the idea of returning back to reality. All I could ever want is to hide amongst the trees and lose myself in the picturesque scenery.


The greener the city, the prettier the sunset. Seeing stars for the first time with clear eyes, that have been lost amongst the concrete buildings. At any minute this would be over and I will run back home. Home seems like a distant memory and some days, I am afraid to go home. Afraid of conforming to everyone else’s standards. Afraid of being stuck under the same four walls of my insecurities. The journey is almost over and through the smiling and the laughter, I feel home. Something I haven’t felt in the years of journeys of my youth. Something that was always lost in the translation. It doesn’t matter how far I go in my lifetime, I am always going to go home. Even if most days, home is just a distant memory.

One day I’ll return to the cities too beautiful to explain with words. One day I will find a way to leave home and find out where I really belong. Until that moment I regroup and return to my same four walls, to plan my next escape. All life is just another chance to escape, and one day I won’t come home. I’ll find my way back to you, I’ll find where I belong.

One day.




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