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Tuesday, July 10, 2007


'Gypsy' always seemed the most romantic designation; a life wandering, a soul formed by light, by music, by adventure. I imagined myself one long before I had any choice in how my life would turn out.

Yet now, faced by years of evidence to the contrary, I am forced to admit that a wanderer's life was never what I craved. Small doses of spontaneity, sure, but always with the wind at my back and a pillow at the end of the day. Managed pilgrimages, with only the impression of chaos.

It turned out that I am a homebody. Far from the nomad I once imagined myself to be, my soul craves not the open world but a comfortable corner; I function best with a stable foundation. Limbo does not sit well with me.


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