I wrote this paragraph some time ago a few months after I was back in South Africa. Reading through it now I realized the insanity of my actions! All I was doing was running away from well pretty much EVERYTHING! I had a one way ticket and 60 pounds. Nothing else! What London did was not helping me re discover but it helped me discover that running away only causes more problems on your return and even when you do not plan on it you still go back to where you have come from.
That last little bit of the taste of Amsterdam, that smell of London.
Oh do I miss it!
London Beckons me, it calls my name...
My heart lies there. In London. In Victoria station. Just as you get off the train and walk outside the station, on the right hand side is a star bucks caravan. I miss that coffee. Walking down the streets of London town, with my star bucks coffee and my ear phones in. Going to Hyde Park and lying on the grass for hours.
Sitting on the steps of Westminster abbey at midnight, looking around me, not a worry, not a care, not one!
Oh and Amsterdam, where my culture lies, my heritage, what I was bought up to be. It seems like such a long time ago. Almost a lifetime. I need to go back. Even if its just for a while you see, just to spend one more day in Amsterdam.
But the rest of my life in London. You may wonder what my crazy obsession may be with London, but you will only know the feeling once you have been there.
I left my heart there and I want to go be with it. You can be in one place your whole life and it will never feel like home. The minute I got on that godforsaken British airport, I was home. Nothing else mattered to me.
Like when I used to work in the kitchen. Nothing else existed, I had no stress, no worries no troubles. I was happy. I was happy in Amsterdam; I was at peace in London. Is it so much to ask for that the universe grants me the right to go back there. I belong there. It is my home. I felt like no foreigner. I felt I belonged there. I need to go back, I don’t know how. I am stuck in South Africa and I don’t want to be. I am doing a job that I don’t want. It feels like I am living a lie.
I need to go back. Its feels like my life depends on it.
You see the thing is the human body requires a heart to survive. How can I survive if my heart lies in London?
Truth be told everybody has a history, a story of deceptions, lies, truthfulness, happiness, unhappiness. Things that we can not remember things we don't want to remember and then there are the things we can not forget. If you knew you had a week to live, what would you do? The age old question... Look at it like this... Are you so contempt and at peace in your life that you would not want to change a thing, saying that regardless of you knowing that you would die or not that you are happy and grateful every single day with who you are and what you are. Well in that case, bullshit!
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