travelling

Take offs & Landings.

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The road leads back to you and familiar far off places. I am leaving in various directions to far off destinations. Anywhere but here, and yet every where and in between. Leaving pieces of myself in different cityscapes and landscapes. Taking with me only what I need to live and survive. Leaving on a jet plane, and who knows when I’ll be back again.

When you’re far from home, you hardly miss it. You stay trapped in the subliminal bliss of journeys that await you. A new story, a familiar place, pieces of strangers that await you on the other side. I could sit in a million seats in crowded places, but nothing compares to the life you see from the gates to terminals. The comings and goings, take offs and landings. Where are we going? Home or further from it? Far off destinations that soon lead you home. I could open my heart and give a piece of it to every person that leaves before me. Open my heart to the strangers and their journeys. Its the strangers that facisnate me. That leave to places I’ll never see, places I’ll never know. We are only the same from the terminal to the gates. Then off on to our journeys and the life that awaits. I leave my past to enjoy the present that awaits me. Familiar places with different faces. Each journey farther from home but eventually leading me home.

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Time stands still. Remembering people, remembering stories and the memories of who we are and who we were. With each trip I am learning, with each trip I am growing up. Searching for parts of myself that I didn’t think would ever exist outside the boundaries of my hometown. My hands shake in anticipation of a new adventure. I can only keep going from here. Embrace this adventure and the people I will encounter. For a brief moment in time, I am connected to these people. To the people that leave and the people that return. We are all connected to an adventure of finding things about ourselves, and growing from each and every experience. Its those strangers that I love, its those strangers that I connect to.

Miles from home, I never feel alone. Miles from home I feel a connection to this life, this illusion of living in and out of a big fat suitcase. Being on the road, I feel more connected to myself then staying in one place. Between take offs and landings is where I feel at home. Up in the sky, floating through the clouds in this never ending dreamland. If you could see me now, if you could see how I fly. If only you could understand that staying in one place, never suited me at all. But being miles away from home, and miles to go before I sleep, at this moment I feel just fine.

 

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9/25/2015 – Day Twenty – Eight

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If I don’t write this down, I will forget something. All I want is to remember everything exactly how it happened, how it felt. Not miss any single piece of it. Either way posting feelings in my head and down on paper, I am bound to forget something. I will forget feelings, placement, settings, smells, every little detail that make up moments that I am desperately trying to remember.

It’s hard to explain it to people. To people that didn’t live the life I did. That didn’t follow a band or a piece of music because they loved it. Nobody will understand that. How it felt to stomp your feet, clap your hands, and sing every line from your favorite song out loud for all to hear. You start remembering basement venues in sketchy parts of towns, filled with cigarette smoke. Remembering salutations and how fearless you felt at 17. Night thats went on forever, until the lights came on. I can’t talk to a single soul about it. I can’t ask someone how it felt to meet people or see places or conversations I kept in my head. Every day I want to forget but the melody brings it all back. It’s never how far I’ve come but it’s where I’ve been. How I got this far and why I keep coming back for more.

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Going on airplanes in route to home, brings back memories of things that have happened briefly, but really was just yesterday. You can’t go back, you can only move forward. Yet things that happened so recently tend to come back like a distant memory. You think about everything and everyone. Moments, feelings, and how perfectly they wrap themselves up in a soundtrack of songs I used to love. A different variety of things but as you grow up, your heart forgets, moves on and dies just a little. I don’t remember why I hate the things of my past but yet I can’t help but succumb to the nostalgia of it all. I hated this band, I hated the people, I hated the music, because they brought back with these memories of a person I don’t recognize anymore. I get it. We all have to grow up sometimes. We all have to get jobs, pay bills and grow up from the fucked up kid from yesterday. But can’t we just pretend we are back there? Back to the 18 year olds wearing dark eyeliner and black hoodies. Back to this notion that we can stay 18 forever?

Peter Pan has his Neverland, where he stays childlike forever. Where do I go to be with the feelings of my younger self, with the wisdom of my adult self? I miss that. I can sing loud and along with the best of them. But still I miss that even as we get older we lose track of who we used to be. I don’t want to be 18 forever, but I want the feeling of pretending I want to. If I could take it all back I would. Take back the sounds, the wounds, the life in the memories. How easily melodies become soundtracks pierced together in our lives. How feelings go as season leave and yet we can’t forget them. Was I missing out or always there? The fear of missing something that wasn’t always there. The photographs you take and the feelings trapped inside of them. Am I missing out?

Stay 18 forever, so we can stay like this forever.