I wanted to tell her or you about this intense want of going to that place. I have that picture so perfect in my head.

Its cold. The kind that leaves a mist on top of the lake. I’m seated on a boat. Wearing a white t-shirt printed a colourful Africa in the middle. I am content. I fling my head back, close my eyes as the picture is taken. I am home. Within myself. At that point, nothing else matters. No one else matters. No worries from the past no hopes for the future, for that moment, I just am.

That moment captures everything that I am. A sojourner on earth. A traveler. One with herself. Belonging to no one.

And I’ve struggled with that last one. Belonging to no one. There is a certain soul I would want to belong to. Beside that gorgeous soul, the idea of belonging to anyone else sounds like a bondage of sorts. And my freedom is the number 1 priority in life.

But then, chances of belonging to this gorgeous soul are closer to zero. I don’t think they are in the business of owning other souls. I don’t even think they own theirs in the first place.

Knowing how sly my soul can be, could it be that in wanting the almost impossible, we have sealed our fate? I do that a lot. Its like a sort of self sabotage. Where my insides aren’t for a particular idea. But my mind thinks we should try out. So we try it out. So my mind gets satisfied that at least we are doing something, while my inner self ensures we do it in such a way that we don’t succeed at it. Two birds with one stone. Both my heart and mind get satisfied.

In this case, it could be I just don’t like souls. Not that way. Not in a way that binds us together. People usually have really good reasons to not have kids. Mine is as simple as bondage. I find them a slavery of sorts. That i’m bound with them for life.

And I do admit that this comes from a bad place. Damn! Childhood traumas never really leave us, do they? Growing up I was told I was a burden, to my parents. Especially my mum. It was not just implied but it felt like it, given how far away I was always taken away from them.

Burdens. When you grow up feeling like a burden to the humans you are supposed to be a gift to, you either deal with your demons out of that, or it follows you everywhere you go. Like me. Where I take humans to be burdens. Long term humans. Except my closest friends and the gorgeous soul. They light up my world.

One of the things I’ve struggled with is that I can easily up and go. Totally. Especially when I make up my mind about it.

Someone asked people to mention their ambitions that they are kinda afraid of. As usual people had sensible ones. I just wanted to go away. To Guinea Bissau. For like 6 months. With my books. No phone. No nothing. And move around Africa as I wish. Maybe even denounce my citizenship as I deem fit.

The unique thing with this ambition of mine compared to other people’s ambition, is that whereas they find theirs a little difficult to conquer, i’m afraid of how easy it is to do mine.

I know myself. I know given a well paying job or work, i’ll save up enough for like 6 months in Gabon. And one day up and go. I also know I wouldn’t pass up opportunity to get a lot of money in a fishy way if this is my plan.

Is it running away? From what? I don’t know. Maybe I feel trapped. The things that used to bring me joy feel un-enough nowadays( inadequate doesn’t quite cut it)

Every corner i’m turning to feels too small for my size.

I’m the kind that goes full force into something. Its either I tell you about it all or I don’t. I don’t even lie. Because i’ll forget about it. Totally. I don’t know how to have friends. We are either close or acquaintances. There is someone close to me I’ve noticed myself withdrawing from. I don’t even think they’ve noticed it. I hate when that happens. Losing a safe space with someone is more heartbreaking that losing a lover.

This space here, my blog, is beginning to bug me. Its not a safe space for my thoughts anymore.

Someone could say its my fault, I share it everywhere. Maybe it is my fault. That people I know are beginning to judge me because of some things. I haven’t even scratched the surface yet. Won’t I be disowned if I open the whole lid?

Anyway, I don’t like spaces I feel constrained. Like I can’t talk about some things. I don’t do boundaries too well. We either have full access or high walls.

I’ve tried thinking about it. Close this shop or let it be defunct, and maybe start another anonymous one elsewhere. But my home is here. I’ve grown up here. From those first blogs that I reblogged from elsewhere to writing my first pieces tentatively, to starting to actually share my thoughts, to bleeding it out completely in public- that really did take away so much shame from my life, to nowadays ranting about anything. Its been a safe space for me. I could just be.

Until I can’t just be anymore. Until its not safe anymore.

Ooh well. Decisions decisions.

Maybe I should find somewhere to run away to as I think about it. After all, it seems like the one thing i’m really good at.

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