I bore of this pain.
This constant thought
Want to move on
Yet Trapped. Muscles taught
Ready to jump
Ready to go
Ready to break it all
Yet for all the climbing up the silks
The inevitable.
Pondered. Fall.
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A travel blog made of excerpts from one year spent living in South America. From travel-based stories, to home truths from Chile, to coriander and palta (avocado) recipies. Some poetry, some pictures, some trapeze: this blog will give a flavour of life, loves, losses and politics in Chile and South America.
Santiago arrived by night. She was cold and alien, her people spoke a harsh fast tongue. She was a hyper-real movie with subtitles misplaced. 22 hours of flight and a dubious heart made the lights brighter, lines sharper, the cold winds trying to blow me back. All the way back to home
And yet. Yet here we are, and here it is almost the end.
Sitting on a trapeze above plaza baquedano, hanging from silks in the parque forestal.
And we talk. We speak of those things that one tends to talk of with cities. Of life, of death, of all the miracles in between.
We don’t speak as lovers do, yet we speak as two that love each other… by symbiosis, because of time itself, an arranged marriage that came to an arrangement.
A love that came as Santiago entered under my skin, between my very fingers into the lines of my hand.
It is not a romantic picture, not a romantic love. But tangible, and real, yet another patch in the patchwork of my feel.
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