October 19, 2013

Love letter to the future

In twelve hours, I'll be in another country. My visa here is finishing, a clear sign to move on. Too bad, I was starting to like it here. Matters of money, romance, and mental space were easy and clear. Language came easy and the praise for its use was lavished.

This was a battle country, like they all are, but the good made the intolerable something to easily be ignored. Physical pain is my opponent in this place. Constant migraines to such an extreme that hospitals would be required in the first world. Emotional pain though, was not here. Here, there was peace of mind, soul and spirit. Only the body was dying here.

No matter, off to a new place. The last venture was a screaming success, the next is already in the works. Will location inspire or maim the opportunity for the next one. There is always a hope, a dream for what will be.

A simple goal for the next country would be default anywhere. But plans don't always follow the expected path. Short distances are uncrossable when language and culture divide the soul. My goal for my next country is to fix the pain from the last. I have the coordinates, lines of latitude and longitude to meet the need. I have the money to reach it 100 times over.

All that can stand in my way, is something else. I have no idea what that might be, but it might. Who is to tell what is in our future, what is right or wrong. We can't make our future with our minds, only time has the skill and patience to mold the clay that is what is to be.

Outside forces will undoubtedly attack our present, ravishing the moment, and gently guiding it toward the next. No one can know why. It is only destiny that can know the next step, the footsteps of time crawling backwards from their source. Language will be there to confound and confuse with tones to ignore. Rhythmic changes, stops and redoubling over what was.

It doesn't matter, it's not mine. My existence here is temporary, no one is in denial of this. No one cares of my linguistic bumblings, it is much more than what is expected. I am lauded for my brilliance constantly, but the standard is laughable.

I am a foreigner, on the verge. I'm on the border, on my way in.

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