asterisk

I'm sitting in the library of our faculty, being super dutiful in getting things done before this weekend. For some reason (like as not related to the last 6 nights I've been up for one reason or another until 3am and beyond...aha 'sleep when you're dead'...right...), I battled an intense sleepiness while reading. Somewhere in some direction I could not pinpoint, there was this very slight cool breeze, which chilled me to the skin, easily working through my thin Nepali shirt. I remembered some fact from somewhere that if you are freezing to death, mostly you just fall asleep and never wake up. I perhaps entertained that thought for a moment, though "freezing to death" was a rather grand exaggeration of the cold. 

To my left is a shelf of "305 študije spolov", and a bunch of books on sexuality. Casual reading, anyone? (Memememememememeeeee!!!)

I figured now would be as good a time as any to catch up, though I hardly remember where I even left off. 

Mm. Venice. 

Mhmm. 

By day time 

the slap of the sea and a sky that eventually cleared 

me being pleasantly lost down canals and alleys and the Monday morning sounds of a slow start

GONDOLAS!!!

Which I didn't ride, but I did take the water bus on tight timing back to the bus loop (haaaaa) and managed to get to where I needed to go in time. 

And it is true when they say this city is sinking, temporary walkways set up around puddles-turned-rivers. As I walked by the cafes by the Rialto bridge, one of the waiters waiting on customers to approach said "lunch and a swim?" and gestured to the amount of canal swirling around the tables. I laughed. For real though. 

Made it back into Ljubljana in enough time for class, which in part featured a Russian economics prof, and I struggled with someone's opinion on how to fix things and with Russia being Russia (yoh) and migrant attitudes and then went home and slept. 

Slept through Tuesday and commenced my week of catch ups, still reeling in delight over the necessary weekend that had passed. 

I think we know who is better at making faces ... (ahem) 

Can you see the me in the postcard? 

And it was long chats and catching up but surpassing that, really, and discovering the meaning of family and of complete intensity of feeling and what two hours of sleep do to your dreams (Francis) and watching sunsets through the Internet and being able to hear again voices that have been gone a while. I wondered over feelings of together again,  just as easily as I eyes my calendar of 8 months with a fluttering sense of unknown and untethered-ness. That gripping of the oars and setting sail, kind of, except here I still struggled with the swing and pull of it, what rides feel like late at night and walking home alone, that sort.

I was overwhelmed with a need to bake.

So I did.

And words jarred batches of cinnamon cookies into burning ness and I thought, huh, that's probably related, and words shook me and I was a bit of a mess, flour included, alone on a rainy afternoon/evening/night. 

And then I slept and then I woke up and this happened 

Metelkova by daytime, and then bus rides and sharing cookies and exploring caves and definitely being a hobbit with long lines of flickering light along edges of cave paths and a roaring roaring river that flushes the significance right out of you on the inevitability of nature 

Lights and skies at the end of the tunnel, and this was me emerging

And people just became such a thing, such a thing. And lifted me and being outside and people. 

Yoh.

these people :) 

So we explored 15th century frescoes in old old churches and that Slovenian countryside that keeps reminding how beautiful things are 

And i love it. 

Monday was a drag into class and then a truly kick-ass, intelligent, not-patronizing, pregnant professor ruling the world for a bit, and then I left to pick up some juice to go with some rum and then discovered the hilarity of mirror angles and tattoos 

and danced my kukere way to the bus stop and to a gathering of Germans and Spanish and Finnish and Lithuanian and Slovenian and Czech friends and soon to be friends. 

A gathering like the times before, alcohol and good playlists and chats for always and then dancing. 

And because we rule so much more, limbo'ing. And cha-cha'ing. And macarena'ing. 

Tomfoolery and hilarity on the way to the club and hey, it's a Monday night. Dancing cut short and fresh walks home and hello, 4am and that delicious soreness of foot that arrives from a night of fantastic people and dancing. 

And this I love. 

This sign was especially funny the next day. Duck-headed triangle child. 

And then it has since been a pick me up of people and points of brightness and lunches with friends and plans to Belgrade just happening to work out.

And I'm left looking at the things that have lines up and I feel like I am catching my stride, a weight has been lifted and I can move freely now. 

Freely to class that is. 

And then to Belgrade tomorrow. 

And the next next next days, and who knows all of this, all of this possibility, if only of being found and letting this happen. I am gathering energy after chasing, perhaps reaching, and I am no longer. 

I am made and feel this. 

keep going

-k

*"Don't chase people. Be yourself, do your own thing, work hard. The right people...the ones who really belong in your life will come to you. And stay."