I love my country’s sun because it casts away gloomy thoughts and saves me from cloudy dreams and melodies. The sun warms up my pieces and makes my heart smile. Behind its warmth and shininess, lies this miserable fog that I keep most of the days away. Yet this paradox occurs and it feels like it always has done.
I long these far away trips, that end up in countries, dark and cold. I find comfort in relapse and at first, I enjoy it so much that I forget why I liked the sun in the first place. But suddenly when I realise what they’re drawing on the surface, I always rush to book my ticket back home. And I usually manage to be on time for my departure. And every single time, I watch out of the window as the plane is taking off. I wave goodbye to the coldness but I feel so broken hearted because I already know that I’ll miss it so much and I’ll regret my decision to go back.
Some people decide. Others let life decide for them. Some sleep on the ground, other find uncomfort in their comfortable beds. So here’s to you, my shiny blue sea and here’s to you my wonderful fog. I might see you again, but I’m not sure where I’d choose to stay.