Today I stood at the heels of an old lady, as close as I could legally get and sniffed her hair, the smell conjured up memories of Jamaica, a soft coconut emanation. The proximity was dangerous, nurturing, I almost lost one of my senses in her vintage vogue. The moving stairs caved in on themselves and I unwilling abandoned ship.
These days of late have been full of exploration, meeting new acquaintances, fury and not so. I was reminded of a lunchbox which I packed with the wrong contents, and a small Indian baby was planted in my stomach. Not for the faint hearted. Encountered more of these idiosyncrasy’s, more than I can bare, emotions on the draining board.
One haunted house ride later and I’m back where I want to be, for the meantime anyway.
“When you love someone that much and that person is away from you, sometimes it literally feels like you can’t breathe, as if your body is aching for air. And then that person walks into the room, and all that ache inside of you, all that longing, dissolves and you feel yourself breathe again.”—Diane Les Becquets, Love, Cajun Style (via morganmartinez)