How many of us are away from home?
I come from a place that many heard of, but never knew how it is, which is a shame. I come from a place cut from a pastoral time, and forcefully brought into this century, where you can still drink spring water, find mushrooms in the forest, and get lost in the immensity of an untouched landscape. I grew up eating cherries and apples from the orchards around my town, and probing the slopes on a plastic bag in the winter (that almost broke my ass and legs a few times, in the same trees that were offering me cherries in the summer). I come from Transilvania! Sounds scary, doesn't it? Well, it isn't! Even now, when i put my foot on that beloved piece of soil, i find, well... Peace. Whenever i go there, i stop, just stop everything for a minute, look around, and breathe in that air that fed me as a child, and i can feel the ground keeping me there, with a magnetic touch... and i become a stone, a part of it again, even if only for a moment. I can feel that piece of land being proud of having me stepping on those old paths, proud of having me back, even for a short time, being happy that I've remembered where i come from.
How far are we from home?
Before asking that question, we should ask ourselves, where is home for us, what home means to us. I am home, i live in someone's heart, and it means everything to me! everything else is... well, memory mixed with melancholy.
Paul
I am among those who left the safety of my nest, to start over, and why not, to find adventure. Some did find it (in a good sense), i for one, did not... I dived in a world that i wasn't prepared for, a world that has been cruel to me, that shaped my life in unexpected ways. But it wasn't all wrong! Somehow, i managed to get by, and, yes, be successful, and by that i mean staying alive, and keeping myself sane.
I come from a place that many heard of, but never knew how it is, which is a shame. I come from a place cut from a pastoral time, and forcefully brought into this century, where you can still drink spring water, find mushrooms in the forest, and get lost in the immensity of an untouched landscape. I grew up eating cherries and apples from the orchards around my town, and probing the slopes on a plastic bag in the winter (that almost broke my ass and legs a few times, in the same trees that were offering me cherries in the summer). I come from Transilvania! Sounds scary, doesn't it? Well, it isn't! Even now, when i put my foot on that beloved piece of soil, i find, well... Peace. Whenever i go there, i stop, just stop everything for a minute, look around, and breathe in that air that fed me as a child, and i can feel the ground keeping me there, with a magnetic touch... and i become a stone, a part of it again, even if only for a moment. I can feel that piece of land being proud of having me stepping on those old paths, proud of having me back, even for a short time, being happy that I've remembered where i come from.
How far are we from home?
Before asking that question, we should ask ourselves, where is home for us, what home means to us. I am home, i live in someone's heart, and it means everything to me! everything else is... well, memory mixed with melancholy.
Paul
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