Sitting at the Airport

Time for changes. Change the time zone I set my blog on (though I’ve been using it in the Central European time for far longer than I care to remember), change my daily rutine – go back to waking up at unholy hours of the day -, change my daily dressing style – back to the office gear – and change the tone of my voice. Speak louder and on a higher pitch, instead of the much lower (both in tone and it pitch) I’ve got used to here. The world around be will change again, the language, the fashion and even the weather and the way people relate to it. I'm feeling blue as I leave the place where my heart lives, like a man who has spent a beautiful season with his loved ones at home, among wonderful woods and meadows, with wonders that can only be gathered in their whole splendor in fairy tales, and now must go back to work to the mines. I'm thinking again, wondering about the strange things in my life, and how it seems to be plagued with departures, airports and lots of crying for those I leave behind. It's not a cruel fate, it is not, it's simply intensely blue, intensely melancholic. It could be worse - I know that - but I keep wondering why is it that my life happened this way, how come I can never be for long with my loved ones without having to give up other loved ones.

It's still dark outside, but the day will shine when my plane takes off, I'll travel in daylight all along, with probably a fake "night" in the way introduced by the aircraft crew (though sometimes the leave the sleeptime out in trips on this direction). Be it as it may, I think I'll most probably sleep the whole trip through. These have been intense, nerve breaking days for me, and knowing that I had to leave stuff out of the luggage, then realizing I forgot others (because I was so busy being nervous I forgot to follow my own packing protocoll to the letter), these all got me jumpy, and so I couldn't sleep all night (or all the 3 hours we could have to before getting to the airport, that is). Rationality and wise words sometimes are useless against the visceral, irrational nervousness that can get on us. Well, at least I hope this freaking nervousness will slim off a couple of pounds from my frame, so I can pull some benefit out of it.