View from Ciragan Palace hotel, Turkey |
Kusadasi, Turkey |
The view from the Bosphorous was one of the things which was supposed to make the job, the trip and experience worth it. But I had taken too few photos on my own. in part due to my own laziness and a queer, mild distaste for photography. The act of phototaking always seemed to frame my view and memories artifically, as if it were someone else's travels i am capturing. Alas, it was a pity, for my memories become faint too quickly, and only photos can give me a little solace, a little remembrance of my travels. I must remember to take more photos. i must remember every detail and every emotion.
Hello NYC, once again.
Paramount Hotel, NYC. Right beside the Church of Scientology.
I have decided to give up the official globetrotting life, in exchange for stability and freedom of my mind. My travels shall belong to me alone, and no one else has the right to demand of my time or energy just because the company paid for my flight and first class hotel. The luxuries were intoxicating, the opportunities to see so much in so little time a godsend, the all-paid-for travels so to-die-for. Yet it was not mine to have. The corporate world reeking of profits and loss, opportunism and phony exchanges leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. For my sanity, I had to leave. A mundane existence, dotted with my chosen colours and unlimited personal space is more welcoming than the shackles of the glamorous corporate world. bye riches and glory, bye slavedrivers and corporatespeak. I appreciated tasting all of it, thanks for the chance.
Along with the new life I sought, I lost another person in my life. And so here I am, lost. Without love, or a true friend in the world. I've loved much, lost much and experienced much in the span of six months. And now I do not know who else I can love and depend on, what else there is to lose and when I can experience the comfort and joy I'm thirsting for, again. I only have my writings to bring me a little solace and comfort that my emotions can take some legible form at last, and yes, the silent, tearful musings that come on unexpectedly.
Was it all meant to be? I hate to be (seen as, mostly) superstitious of any kind, but it was the only way I can convince myself that this heartbreak was not something I could have averted. The alternative is too destructive to bear.