Posted in Dreaming, London, Travel

Once a upon a time

back when I went to university, I traveled a lot. And I am so glad that I did, because I had not expected to go 3 years without going anywhere (except for a few days in Germany). It has been kind of okay, I have not missed it terribly but now I do.

So I am just so happy about the fact that I am going to London for two weeks by the end of may, and thats basically all I can think about at the moment. The really funny (and quite annoying) thing about me is that even though right now I live in this nice flat, that I just moved in to, and really love, I constantly find myself wondering if perhaps I should have waited a bit. I have always thought (and hoped) that I would someday move back to England, but somehow I never quite found the courage to do it, and I thought that finding my own place would somehow make my feel more settled down. I hate that concept, but at the same time I really wished I just could do that. I am 32 now. Shouldn’t it be about time to do what all the other kids are doing? And I did promise my self, and everyone else who helped me move, that I would live here at least for 2 years.

 

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