most times you don’t realise shit is wild until you have realised that you have realised that shit is wild. it always impacts in an “ohhhh. . .” sorta kinda way.
i recently journeyed to South Africa. I love travelling by bus going long distances because well i get to view life in a different way and get to enjoy the silent vibrations ascending from under the bus.
oh yeah? lets not go there. . .
On the front row, right window was my seat on the double deck sleep-liner. i was sitting next to a woman who was seemingly young but acting old and cold, literally, could have easily been my last stroll. she whined most the way and kept begging me to give up my seat for her husband who sat in the seat behind mine.
as if!
Why do you think i went days before the trip to secure the front top seat, lazy bum?? She slowly started getting on my nerves but when i looked outside though, and watch the trees running past my window and spotting wild animals in wild Africa i felt as though i belong on the road. i love the thought of travelling through weird lands and meeting the strangely beautiful and capturing it all.
So overall, i had a really fantastic trip. i love bonding with my cousin and talking about things i’d rather we hadn’t. Meeting her beautiful little girls. Laughing and having such a great time. Thats when i realised that i’ve realized i indeed don’t have a place to call home. i’m a nomad!
ohhhh. .
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