It was only until very recently that I realized how my life has been a constant stream of starting over.

It started in Japan, then school one, school two, school three, school four, and then school five. If this life were a novel, mine would be a one-shot piece with different beginning and ending per chapter instead of the lengthy book that has a proper beginning in chapter one and a happy ending in chapter something. At first I couldn’t make up my mind if this was a good or a bad thing, and so pondered I did, for weeks. I thought, what would happen if I never moved? What would happen if I stayed where I was? Occasionally, this thoughts will go deeper to the point where I sit and think, what would my life be like if I had stayed in Japan?

However, a constant stream of ‘what would happen’ will never change where I’m standing now, and I’ve made peace long ago with the realization of not being able to have that lasting relationship with people. Perhaps that’s why travelling is what I crave in life after accepting the fact that staying at one spot is too big of a task. To me, travelling becomes something like a never-ending book that has different beginnings and endings at certain different points. In the middle of each story, you’ll find different kind of characters, conflicts, and meaning. It’s a journey of starting, stopping, and restarting, over and over again. You meet people, you understand them, and you close a page. No judgement or ties to an extent. No string attached, only adventure ahead.

So maybe it can be a bit lonely, and so maybe I haven’t thought this through. Maybe it seemed like a coward running away from unrealistic fear, but the heart sings what it craves, and for now, it craves for the world without the need for the world to know it back.

and it’s
a year and a half away
until we hit
the next restart