My Pen pal

There is a feeling that I can only hope most have experienced. If not, your time will come. You are at a place in your life where you have been completely detached from all forms of familiarity and want nothing more than to find a nice rock of no particular decent in no particular place to hide under for a to be determined amount of time. It is as though around every corner there lies no expectations, mainly because if you do have any you will be dreadfully disappointed when nothing turns up, but hope. You walk hopeful that at some point you will turn a corner and feel some sense of embrace. For me, on this trip so far, I have turned many corners finding nothing but the continued cobblestone from the road that led up to it. Once in a while there lies a nice bed of flowers that makes me smile or an old building with big knockers (ones that I usually cant resist lifting up, releasing, and running as the weight sounds throughout the rooms it masks) or people with faces and smiles that can change the outlook of my entire day. I have been in Liverpool for the past few days now and the lack of stress is preparing me for the move in an anxious sort of way. My Pen pal seems to write at just the right moments, usually moments before I decide to open my mailbox, and it sometimes makes me feel like I am Meg Ryan in such relief that within the chaos of her day someone is on the same page. Having debates over who is the lemming and who is the player and chitter chattering in an elongated sort of way over streams of emails that somehow result in conversations to look back on one day only to put a smile on your face.

My Pen pal seems to brighten the corners a little and sometimes I wonder how it all happened. I am on a hodgepodge journey, wandering aimlessly, mostly lost but not really because I have no particular place to be, and I never would have thought that at the end of the day it is nice to feel some form of release and warmth knowing I can write about it all to someone and at the same time be one lemming in a crowd with another. They have stuff to write about too. While you are on a trip all on your own it becomes a form of nourishment not to be deprived of for too long to feel like there is someone around (as in around the world) that will take away from the mentalitly one builds when all they have to do is think of themselves and what they are doing.

I don't know where I will end up but a great man said that it is about the journey and the endless motion from point As to Bs that really matters anyway.

On the side: went out last night with a gang of Liverpudlians and while I thought I was going to get away with wearing my red roo sneakers the whole of the UK society disagreed. I ended up dancing like a mad woman in black stiletto boots with rhinestone buckles.......the English lads couldn't get enough of me (or so they tell me).