journal entry - zurich, one day prior to departure.

i sit now in zurich, heat rises from the cobblestones in a trickling manner - this city is burning. i've come full circle. as i sit beside the gross muenster and listen to the rumble of trams i feel both sad and joyful. my attention is diverted by a pigeon feather, smokey white with strips of black, that dances about in a whirlpool of wind that moves invisibly upon the ancient cobblestones. this is my life; suseptible to the changing tides and winds, moving about freely yet tethered to something unknown. it is beautiful and freeing, hardening and molding, challenging yet...! i'm not ready to leave and close the cover of this epic book -- but i must. cliche as it might be, another chapter is beginning . but, how does one return? how do you sleep and rise again a person from another world? i've slept a million times and awoke another man... will i forget who i am or simply assemble something human-like from the pieces strewn about? the sun moves behind a small patch of clouds and shoots rays over the baking city. i count then re-count as the clouds, sun and day shift together in a time-tested waltz... its all very beautiful.

molly, your last post is amazing! thus the reason i entered the journal entry above. time IS NOT linear, rather circular. we are moving about and chasing shadows into a new day, chasing the sun into a new night - it is all the same. i've come across myself in a million different forms, in a millions different lives, in a million different cities! i have as much in common with the UBS banker in the S-bahn in zurich, as i do with the swedish bartender in umea, as i do with the drunkard slurring his way through the streets of a small town on that hugs the danube, as i do with my own reflection caught by accident at a twilight moment of instant clarity on some worn-&-torn train heading west from god-knows-where to i-dont-care. circular as it might be we cant stop and watch. we are sharks in water, always moving, always forced, by nature, to do so. but, if we could, would we really want to stop and get off this ride and watch it spin its way in a flirting game of batting eyes and wandering hands through the universe?

keep writing, molly!