Latte and passing trains... I always cherished the sound of the wheels hitting the rails. No other vehicle noise has made that snug impression so far. I am amidst of my mini baltic-to-happen voyages this week. It's good to have a chance only sip my milky drink and have my rollocoasty thoughts calm down a tiny bit.
Tomorrow after so much time I'll come back to Silkeborg Hojskole. Even though I didn't think to do any more traveling before I hit the Big Road, Laurens' kind approach and the temptation to meet lovely people who undergone similar experiences lured me into the fast decision. Hence a bit of hectic traveling, but I keep on hearing 'its you Eva'.
Who am I then after all. People call me snail or turtle, always with the 'packed house' on my shoulders as Im ready to travel. Why can I not stay in one place like a lot of people do? Why are some people nomads and some settlers? Do I need in any way feel guilty of being a different persona?
A quick coffee-and-croissant conversation with my always-beloved-and respected aunty Egle revealed our differences in priorities. They always had a dream to have his business flourished which brings financial stability and that freedom. Which in fact I already own it. Freedom happened to be my second name for a little while. And yes, I am not that settled down person like my sister and cousins, who already formed the families and raising future generations. If that is my way, I possibly need to wait.
'Why traveling?' Ruta's question surely makes sense. Will I gain any better or wiser? Why I need to thumb a hitch for miles in order to understand something that Coelho has already concluded in his novel: the tru treasure is where I am and what I have within me. I perhaps won't become any happier, but my wisdom will grow.
I believe some precious people are scared of death that might approach the un-careful traveler. The article in 'I and psychology' about people's indifference and avoidance of loss of life only supports that idea. I guess we should be prepared for anything, but hope for the best. I suppose Stefano's death has put a lot of things in different perspective. I guess him and my sis Patricia have become my angels who will surely guard us on our way.
My next post will perhaps cover of practical and less melancholic features. I do believe though that spending time of respecting my own feelings and giving them a good vent, will help me have a better focus and perspective onto serious organisational things.
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