No, I'm not gone and haven't disappeared forever.
I guess apologies of sorts are definitely in order, given that I've been terrible with my posting recently. It's not as if I haven't had things to say, stories to tell, experiences to share or just pet peeves to vent about. Life has been hectic, busy, incredibly satisfying and equally frustrating at the same time, and definitely not dull and boring.
No, its not that.
There has been travel. Seven countries in less than than three months, transcontinental flights, Heathrow at its best and worst, snowfall in Berlin and Amsterdam, rain in Hanoi and the warm sun in Delhi. Long nights, fancy bars, grubby clubs, beautiful women in Vietnam, jealous transvestites in Holland. The kids of close friends, friends from your past; so many binaries, so many dichotomies. Evenings spent with a glass of wine in front of a fireplace, a movie, a river. Kids throwing snowballs at your moving car, cyclists nearly running you over while they paint their nails. Looking at a Van Gogh original and feeling the urge to cry, watching a movie on a plane and feeling the urge to laugh until you can't stop, sleeping, riding that amazing white horse on a crisp winter's day.
All I know is that something is different; something has changed, and it will never be the same as it was before. What it is, I cannot tell, but trying to figure it out is half the fun. I feel energised, but tired as well. It's as if there are a thousand golden suns buried deep within me, each one straining to burst out, and even though as each one emerges the brilliance of its light astounds me, it also leaves me drained.
Damn you Hosseini - you stole my autobiography's title.