I will fly again.

Like almost every night, I go outside infront of our house and look at the stars. It got colder lately, but I still stand there every night and look up. It's like a ritual before sleep. It's a marvellous display of tiny little dots and I'm always mesmerized by them. It reflects my mood. I'm dreamy. Reflective. Hopeful. I'm captivated by its sheer infinity and I feel so small - my problems, desires, fears and expectations seem so insignificant. Yet, they are there. They are real. That's who I am. And then I see a moving dot. It's an aeroplane. I close my eyes and picture myself being on one. I remember the time when I flew thru the night, everyone was sleeping and I watched over them. I felt at ease.

I miss flying. I miss knowing that I will depart and arrive. I miss the feeling of anticipating the person who waits for me. The fears, the excitement, the shyness, the smiles. I miss being the real me in another country, far far away. I know I will fly again. I feel it. Zewt once said that you need to run towards something and not run away from something. He was right. But it's not easy to do so, especially for those of us, who feel like they have two homes. I think I will always travel. If you think about it - everybody does. The difference is what distance. Some people leave a small trail in life, I feel I'm destined to leave a big one. I'm drawn to the Far East and I don't even know why. Maybe it's a gut feeling. Maybe it's my past life. I just can't explain it. But how many things in life can you really explain? Can you explain love?

Think about it.

[picture taken in Hong Kong, Jan 2009]