Home is something of an abstract concept for me, but this -- watching out the BART window as the streets of Oakland roll by, resuming my ongoing struggle with the cashier at the corner store over whether or not I need a plastic bag to carry my juice 20 feet to my door, digging my house key out of my backpack, and walking up the stairs to my room -- is about as close as it gets these days.
I'm filled with an unseemly amount of happiness to return to my bed, my desk, my nice big towel, and the other inanimate objects that make life pleasant. I'm right back to the grind tomorrow, but I have friends and familiar places to look forward to seeing. It's good to travel. It's good to be home.
About Me
- Isabel E
- I notice that most of my posts begin with apologizing for not posting more. I drink too much coffee, don't sleep enough, and am more likely to run into friends at the library than at the bar. Once upon a time, though, I had an exciting life that involved traveling all over the world and otherwise leaving the house. I intend to resume these things some day...
2 comments:
there is this really nice poem of Garcia Marquez about traveling...and returning.
It says:
Viajar es marcharse de casa,
es dejar los amigos
es intentar volar;
volar conociendo otras ramas
recorriendo caminos
es intentar cambiar.
Viajar es vestirse de loco
es decir "no me importa"
es querer regresar.
Regresar valorando lo poco
saboreando una copa,
es desear empezar.
Viajar en sentirse poeta,
escribir una carta,
es querer abrazar.
Abrazar al llegar a una puerta
añorando la calma
es dejarse besar.
Viajar es volverse mundano
es conocer otra gente
es volver a empezar.
Empezar extendiendo la mano,
aprendiendo del fuerte,
es sentir soledad.
Viajar es marcharse de casa,
es vestirse de loco
diciendo todo y nada en una postal.
Es dormir en otra cama,
sentir que el tiempo es corto,
viajar es regresar.
Gracias Txus.
That's just about right.
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