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Oceans and Seas » Pacific » Bering Sea
October 23rd 2008
Published: October 23rd 2008
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Disclaimer: This blog is not about traveling so if that is what you expect, don't read it. It is instead somewhere where I write when I feel like writing about something that no one wants to hear or read anyway. I write as though it were to an audience because nobody is consistently the best listener.


It was around this time 3 years ago that I would stumble into a misfortune and make a decision that has shaped where I am at this very moment. I think there are few such moments in life where one single decision can be pinpointed as being so crucial that it has blatantly put a person on their present path.

Not a day has gone past where that misadventure that started 3 years ago hasn't crossed my mind. Not a single day. I do not want that person back, but I would do anything for the memories back. However, anything or everything that I do to get them back is futile. Hong Kong brought some new ones, and where I am now is expected to do the same. A month and a half ago, as I made a return to where this all happened the memories resurfaced blurred by the haziness of the lies they were shrouded in. I sat there, staring at the balcony door that had fallaciously welcomed me for many months, until it truely welcomed me and showed me everything how it really was. This was to be the same everything that everyone else already knew and kept locked behind their own little doors. Friends is a really loose term on an exchange, yet I keep trying to believe it isn't. Best friend no longer has a meaning. So I actually wonder if it is my memories I'm really trying to get back, even though I know I can't or to restore faith in that people can be good even when they don't necessarily have to be.

Of course this all seems to be overdramatic and unfounded, but words can truely not express just how unessecary the events leading up to my eventual fall were; how malicious, selfish and undermining they were. They had it all and they still wanted more, and it came at the expense of everything that I had at the time. Everything that I knew and everything I had experienced in 10.5 months. I think a similar experience has occurred to about the same amount of people in the world that would actually write about it 2.5 years later. Thus, its not expected to be understood, or be felt for. It has even been lost on Karma.

In the past 3 years I've been to about 35 countries, 100 cities. I've been on top of volcanoes, and under crystal blue waters. I've ridden on top of trains and scootered in between jammed up traffic in 3rd world countries. I've slept on beaches and woke up under trees. I've made multitudes of friends from every region of the world, and I continue to add to all of this. Yet I would trade it all to be able to look back at those 10.5 months, smile and say "this was right;" To not have to question why everything went wrong and why, particularily for me. To not have to compare everything I do now to something I only thought I was doing then. To be able to watch "for Simon" without becoming a little more jadded and dead inside.

I know you've forgotten, but I haven't and I never will.

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