Monday, January 04, 2016

As much of a cliché as it is to state 'new year, new me' at this time every three hundred and sixty five and a quarter days, I don't feel that urge. I don't feel any different at all to how I felt this time last week. I am more determined to focus on my favoured crafts; writing and drawing, but those are longings that I have all year round. The start of a new year only reminds me that life goes on, and there is nothing at all we can do about it.

I don't want to compromise myself, nor constantly adapt to suit my surroundings. I wish I could accept that I will not fit into every environment, but should rather spend time searching for my natural habitat - whatever that may be.

Anyhow, I have returned to the Far East with a bronze on my shoulders, and a flurry of fond memories, though it is truly wonderful to be home. Yes. I'm home. It may not be my native or natural habitat, but I have adapted the Orient to suit my needs. It is my home. For now. But I felt a huge release and the utmost relief as I stepped foot on the familiarly foreign soil. I have said similar things about various countries, but for the first time in half a decade I'm not considering where I can go next. 

I'm content with the space I am occupying, I just need to figure out how to spend more time doing what it is I love. 

As far as men are concerned, I am doing my utmost to keep them from my thoughts... There are always suitors, whether conjured up from the past, those who I can see and touch and taste in my present, or those that will somehow find a way into my future. I have spent far too many hours and days dwelling on these men. They aren't going anywhere, so I may as well accept that and do what makes me happy.