missed connection

So in another reality I would not even be capable of writing this. I should be somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean right now, or else landed in Johannesburg already. 

For some reason I still have not figured out yet, I was not meant to get on that plane to Jo'burg, me and five others. Our flight from Toronto to Washington was unbelievably delayed, asking us to deplane while they tried to fix the a/c. I'm grateful that heat does not seem to bother me too much any more, because did it ever swelter for a bit there. Everyone's tempers were short and tense via angry phone calls and advice of "give them hell". 

For all that I wish I could have arrived on time, the whole delay did not cause me much panic. I'm pretty zen these days...also I have six weeks in South Africa, so I don't need to lose sleep over a night. 

And lose sleep I certainly did not, as this hotel that the airline put us up in is NICE. One of the options on the "hotel services" page of the welcome guide was horseback riding. 

Yeah. 

Okay. 

This is my view from my window 

which was pretty for the hour of day light I had left when I arrived here. 

I spent the night just decompressing, watched some GoT. 

Orange water, anyone? 

Life sometimes eh? 

I'm going to go spend the rest of my hour left here down by the poolside, perhaps, enjoy this bonus day of sunshine while I still can, because my next reality is a metal tube flying through atmosphere for 17 hours. 

I'm gladly taking suggestions on why I am here for the time being, why I didn't make it last night. 

Or maybe like most things in life, it is just a matter of things that happen and it is nothing more than a missed connection. 

So now I want to ask how many other connections have there been in my life that I've missed...willfully or not. 

I'll see you all on the other side. 

-k

and and and

hello june.

this happened on the seventh day.

I thought I should try and say something about this.

....

But I can't, I don't know how to, I don't know if I can, not yet, because I live, lived it. The most I have is to read back over what May did for me and try and turn that into some kind of ache in the heart that tastes like sunburns and sunsets and dancing and darkness. That's what I know, starlight and streetlight and midnight and bridges and quiet green and funkdirty and leaving.

...

hello july.

I am now 20.
maybe I shouldn't have told you that for the sake of the internet not knowing these things, but naah. f*ck it.
(wow, look how polite I'm being.
no guarantees of such attempts in the future)
but I am also on another evening of suitcase zipping and clothing rolling, pushing and packing and hoping for everything to be where it needs to, because tomorrow I am back at the airport and tomorrow I am en route for 2 hours to Washington and then 17 hours to Johannesburg.

SAY WHAT.

The month I've had not on airplanes has been (           wish there was a word                ), in seeing friends that I never see but will continue to always never see and it will be okay, in laughing with my brother and getting around the last two years, in frozen yogurt and conversations, in not making up and not making over but in making it through, in daily music, in playlists and car rides and graduations.....
in camp.

Ah.

Yeah.

Kretinga.

Two weeks of if only you could be there. Of radioactive, of skuuuuunks and pringles and cups of green tea and pb&js, dances and singing, nutella... of spiders and stay and same love and clutching and laughing, of beach preaches and confident walks and dressing up and hallelujah, of pirates and mad hatters and words and raspberries. Of 5 ams, and hearts, and crazy pants. Two weeks of sunrises and sunsets and siestas and southbound trains, cats that came back, midnight, elephants, whistles.

All I have left to say for it is iki pasimatymo. There is nothing I can do or speak or write or think that can cover what it is, what it was, so I will leave it to what it will be, another year of time that maybe is and maybe is not as real as those two weeks, but they are all we've got. Oh, and that's the hardest part.

I don't know anything, and least of all what will happen next.


So I will leave you here with thoughts on wagon wheels and leftover incense on prayer flags and how time never listens, how time never slows, how time never exists the way it wants to, needs to.

so this is for new borders and old friends and old beginnings and new ends and and and

stay

-k