in the middle

Words lack their coherence these days. Flux, change, goodbyes and hellos collide and bounce. Thoughts pass by with layered feeling. This narrator is a loss for words. How do I describe the days of my life?

What can I say? Next week is the camping trip complete with tents, fire, and friends. I’ve been picking up extra shifts at work for the money AND the experience. Cleaning and packing slowly, trying to figure out what stays and what goes. I finally got my pass port – that was one long wait. Pictures of me unfold into documents, making me legal somewhere a long long way from here. This GoGo is about to turn 31-years-old. I’m completing another revolution around that sun. I am camping, I am packing, and I am moving!

And here I am in the middle of it all, enjoying my time. I like myself. I wake up every day to be a part of my story; I am excited to play a part.

Still, it’s a’lot.

I wanted to write about moving, about figuring out how one packs a life into two bags and a carry on, and about just having fun with wonderful people before I go.

It’s a little too much to pin down with words though. Before I can even grasp what’s happening, the whole scene seems to change. So, I’ve changed my medium, snapping photographs as a cathartic response to my time here. It’s really weird to be moving and still living in this city.

It’s too much for words really.