After spending a glorious last bit of my spring notreallyabreak in NOLA, I realized just how deeply I miss the city. More poignantly even than the farewell tour of 2007. Probably more so since I will be going even further (in miles) from my velveteen rabbit. As it stands, I am roughly 150 miles from that telling bend in the river where dreams are heavy with humidity and colored with music. I will soon enough be 2,250 miles away with a country in between her and I. There is part of me that believes that even though I am heading far, far, far away that I will be actually closer in mindset, at least in some ways. I know, though won't admit, that I will be on another planet in other ways and may very well be the most exotic thing around other than the DH and Cuz show. I mean there aren't that many Southern Fried Canadians around, especially NOLA hearted ones.
My upcoming journey will be a long one and not an easy one, but I am looking forward to my future metamorphosis, even if it is occasionally with more trepidation than excitement. Much how dear city friend has had to reinvent herself that past 5+ years, I will be reinventing myself somewhat over the next 5+ years. I will go from being one of the most liberal things around to something that may look more (gack) conservative. Or more accurately for both of us, it will be a rebuilding, because much of the foundation will remain the same with a new landscape slowly blossoming on top. Hopefully better, though I am sure sometimes worse. But isn't that how we often learn and grow? Real life paper dolls and doll-houses trying on personalities and careers and beliefs and friends and likes and dislikes and relationships and leaders and supporters and enemies and on and on.
I had a dream last night I was packing in a hurry and was rapidly going through all my belongings set out on the curb before SDT came to haul them away, but they were intermingled with the neighborhoods belongings and so many people were trying to tell me what to take and what to leave and most of what was out there was decorations and toys. I dare you to try and tell me one's subconscious is not constantly trying to sort through things.
In a reading from the prophet Diddy: "And you know you woulda took the bullet if you saw it But you felt it and still feel it And money can't make up for it or conceal it But you deal with it and you keep ballin Pour out some liquor, play ball and we keep ballin". Yes, I am ducking before getting struck from lightning, but I still find a lot of truth in the song...
2 comments:
There are details to be filled in here, dear!
Soon come, as they say down in the islands!
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