I like to travel, read, write, dance and pretend. At the moment I am suffering an insufferable phase of self-aggrandizement, premature maturity and lack of wit.
If you think you can help me out of this funk, write me at idaman.z@gmail.com
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tiada ke mana perginya.
I am no longer home.
There are only so many airports and anonymous hotel rooms you can visit until your soul starts raging at the ignominy of sameness. See enough and the differences between them begin to blur, until all experience is indistinguishable to you. I thought I've reached that point but the recently active (non-literal, most definitely metaphorical)child in me (who's been pretty dormant the past decade or so) would pull me back and scold me, telling me to seek wonder and beauty while I have the opportunity.
It's been a good year thus far. I've made new friendships, renewed old ones. I've traveled places I never thought I would. I've saved enough to feel safe. I've found peace. I've found new love, and I've found old love I thought I'd lost.
I'm not home anymore, but I've found my way back home.
