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Wow…it definitely has been quite some time. Even as I write, I’ll debate whether to post this particular blog or not to post. You see, the time of year of what should be happiness, joy, giving, love and especially family is quickly approaching. In fact for many, the season has already arrived. For others, it will arrive in two days when the family joins for a feast and the annual reunion. And still for some, the season, sadly, will never arrive.

More orphans are created during this season of giving and thanks than during any other part of the year. While many may be wondering where this statistic comes from, it is not a physical fact (or at least not one researched by me). It becomes an emotional orphaning, let go by those we assumed cared and hit by the realities of how cruel humanity can really be.

Speaking with a friend yesterday, after hearing about an incident in my own life, he made the comment that “this is the reason so many hate the holidays.” When the truth arises, it hits home harder than most would think. Those too afraid, or perhaps too cowardly to ever speak what they believe somehow get the “courage” to do so during this time, when it seems to count the most, or rather hurt the most. The wickedness of life bites quickly, and bites hard, exposing our raw flesh and essentially raw emotions.

While some of us may know we are loved by the ones that count, it can take the most unwelcomed decision by the most unimpactful person in our life to destroy the joy that we once wished surrounded this time of year. I never expected myself to be in the place where, for some reason, I felt like an orphan. The darkest place of loneliness I could reach and the biggest personal fear of mine.

No, the feeling of being orphaned does not have to come from an action of our closest family and friends. And in my case, it hasn’t. But when one is already feeling alone in a giant city, a revoked invitation to Thanksgiving dinner done so simply because of who a person is, affects us more than we may have ever expected.

The realization that what we have always feared has arrived, throws us so far off course, we become afraid to even chance anything else. We close up. We try to hide. And we simply…..choose to be alone, believing this is the best way to protect against any further emotional harm. It is in these times that those closest to us need to take the extra step, and allow those feeling orphaned to be safe and in one of the few areas they truly feel safe. We do not want, nor do we need to hear a defense of the actions taken against us. We simply want to be loved and understood. WE want to be defended. Allow us to not make that extra effort and realize this is when we need you most. Maybe this act of the orphan sounds selfish, but realize that there are times in life we must be selfish simply for self-preservation.

This post is for two reasons. The first, those who find themselves in the same spot as me. You are never alone, no matter how much you may believe you are. The feeling of being alone won’t last forever. BUT, take your time and do what you have to do. It’s your time to allow others to make the effort you’ve always made. The other reason? It’s my way of communicating to the ones I love, how I am feeling. When we speak, words somehow never flow from the mouth. We clam up and shutdown. We allow others to play off of our emotions and control the conversation. This allows me to speak how I am truly feeling without an interruption. This is to help you understand me just a little bit better.

To all, work against the pain that this time of year can bring so many. If you are in a sound emotional and physical state, be the one to take the extra step this year. Truly be a giver this year, opening your door to those who are struggling to find safety and security. Help bring back what this season should be to those who have been stripped of it. Be the love you always speak about. Be the action so many of us need. Be the caretaker for those who are unable to be. Love you all, and still, God bless.


The Squeeze

Every so often, in our busy lives, we are forced to an abrupt stop by the entry of an individual or individuals that is so unexpected, we stand in place, not knowing what to do. These moments, while we may not always see it, happen for one reason or another, to perhaps usher in a new beginning or help find closure of a distant past.

We can sometimes convince ourselves that when this happens, we know what to do. We take control of the situation. And then there are those times we sit back, let it happen, and when we feel the timing is right, we step in, believing we are still just letting things happen.

What we don’t often notice, especially in the circumstance of finding closure, we can hold too tightly to these new individuals, not wanting to let go because of fear of losing them. What we don’t always realize? By grabbing hold so tightly, we often squeeze, or scare them out of our life.

We cannot use someone to bring closure to a situation or circumstance they were not a part of. By doing so, the relationship that develops is partially false. It can be based on the insecurities of our own selves without our own knowledge. Before a real friendship or relationship can begin, we need to understand our selves and our securities and insecurities. We cannot depend on someone else to help us find closure or move on, but we can allow them to enter and join us in our path forward.

Don’t let go of those close to you, old and new. But don’t hold so tightly that you squeeze them out. I’m sorry to those who have felt the squeeze in my life. But I pray that they choose to stick around.

The Waiting Game

Planning. Futuristic thinking. Always one step ahead. This is my life.

Since the return, perhaps one of the hardest adjustments has been the lack of planning for the next big step. Life has reached a point where it is now a waiting game.

During the past several weeks, I had something to plan for…Hawaii. Another vacation, that turned into a family reunion with a wedding attached. I was in my element trying to help organize my itinerary and communicating with family back and forth to see if we could get things just right. Then, it all got to a point where the planning was largely over and it turned into waiting.

That was a temporary fix. Even more difficult is the halt put on planning for the future, in a more long-term sense. The past month I dove head first into the search for a new place to live and the essentials that would go with that. Stressful, yet my element. But again, a temporary fix. What I truly long for? Plans for my future. The next adventure.

Job searches have been put on hold. Thoughts and plans for the next big move out of Los Angeles….put on hold. All for what? Vacation. And the possibility to see something through that, in the first place, was not part of the original plans.

A waiting game. Test of patience. Kind of a test of character. One of the things I despise the most is the feeling that nothing is moving, that life has become stagnant. But sometimes, those periods must occur in order to set up the perfect timing for that next big step, that new adventure.

A waiting game. During this period of 7 weeks, while I can’t plan, I can enjoy this time. See it as an opportunity to just relax, reorganize, and prepare. And maybe, just maybe, another unplanned, unexpected event may occur that can change everything. Wait and see. Relax. And be prepared to be flexible. Life comes at us quick. We jump, we hurdle, we duck. But sometimes, we just need to be ready for that ball to smack us dead in the face. For now, enjoy the quietness.

Love is the Ultimate Gift

Love is the ultimate gift. Yesterday, for the first time in over 2 years, I attended a wedding. The last wedding was that of my brother’s. Surrounded by friends and family, we celebrated a gathering that honored emotional, spiritual, physical and legal vows of two human beings. A ceremony that was so beautiful, the legal aspect wasn’t something we had to even consider, it was a given. Not only were they able to be honored by those who loved them, but they were given the option to be honored and acknowledged by the legal authorities of our state.

Yesterday….apart from the actual event planning of it all, was a whole other experience. It was my first gay wedding to attend. On the sand of Long Beach, perhaps 100 or so guests stood in anticipation to watch the handsome grooms walk with each other down the aisle, say their vows, and make the long-awaited kiss that typically seals  the commitment in spirit and body, only to be followed by the signatures that grant the legal rights of marriage.

Yesterday was a commitment ceremony. Commitment of love for a lifetime. A friend of mine made a valid point just before I left to attend such an amazing occasion. While so many argue against the rights of gays and lesbians to marry for various reasons, a wedding like the one I witnessed yesterday represented a type of commitment that is not within the expectations of the social eye, that typically does not provide any extra benefits and that, legally, means absolutely nothing. But yet, two individuals still have the desire and love for each other that make them want to share with others, despite what the ceremony does not signify.

While the two grooms of yesterday were beneficial enough to legally marry in another state or country, they had to do so separately, from friends and family, far away from home and many of those who loved them. What many are able to do by simply driving to the nearest Justice of the Peace, these two men had to pack up and travel, finding a place that would grant them an assumed legal right. Yesterday, was a commitment ceremony, a reaffirmation of what they know is true, but unfortunately the majority of our society does not.

I witnessed love yesterday, in the sincerest form, not only between the couple, but those who surrounded them in support of their committed future together. Yesterday and the last couple months of friends getting married and wedding dates being set for next year made me wonder, will I have to travel away from those I love to legally seal my commitment to the man I eventually fall in love with? Or will my community finally acknowledge my right to be married, surrounded by friends and family, in a ceremony that binds me to the heart and soul of another person emotionally, spiritually, physically, and legally?

I pray that I can have a ceremony like that of Howie and William, or my brother and his beautiful wife, or my sister and her amazing husband, with all of the meaning that the weddings of my siblings carried. While I may not have the right to marry in my state, I still have the right to fall in love. Hopefully the legalities of this state and others can pave the way for change at the altar before I land at the altar. They have several years before then, but there are many hearts already bound by love waiting for change to occur. We are human beings as well. We can and do fall in love. Please, do not act as though your love has more significance than ours.

Love is the ultimate gift.

Home is…..

It’s been a week since I’ve finally moved back home into Azusa. Great to be back in a familiar place with people I know and love. AZUSA, everything from A to Z in the USA (go figure that I had met someone in Dar es Salaam that knew that phrase before I even said it).

Located just outside of Los Angeles, Azusa has provided me a home for the last 4 years. Jumping from apartment to house to couch, I’ve never really had a space to call home. BUT, what I have had are plenty of friends who have made this place my home.

I realized long ago that home isn’t a space of your own. Home does not have to be one spot in the world that you can return to. Home, for me, has become the people I feel I can call family. Azusa, Grand Junction, Boise, Seattle, Frisco, Honolulu (Kaneohe), Mira Mesa (San Diego), Pietermaritzburg, Kabwe, the WHOLE of South Africa. All of these places have been home to me at one point in my life. Some….still are.

When I returned back to one of my homes, depression hit hard. Some said it was because I was trying too much to live in a fantasy, others agreed it was part of the return process, and still others described the way I deal with life as being an idealist with the understanding of a realist (quite hectic, yes). Whichever any of these or a combination of some explain it, it was simply part of some process. I realize, as much as I tried to avoid the thought on my trip, that I returned to one of my homes, and that understanding has definitely made life a bit more enjoyable.

And while Azusa is home for me, I know that it will not be my current home forever. The adventure bug is still so much alive in me. Relocation, and perhaps a search for another, maybe new or old home, is on the brink. But wherever that takes me, Azusa is my home. It has been for several years, and it will continue to be…..thanks to those that surround me with their love. Remember, home doesn’t have to be a house, or a property, home can be as simple as the love and companionship you share in communion with others.

Deep Breaths

Deep breaths. IN………OUT………..IN…………OUT…………….Deep breaths

Ever have those moments or series of moments in life where your mind just can’t seem to slow down? Running non stop. For you over analytical, futuristic thinkers out there, this one is for you.

Deep breath.

Doesn’t matter what has just occurred in life, the overwhelming sensation of the impending and uncontrolled future looms just over the horizon. When even the simplest event occurs, thoughts, attempts to plan are set in motion. This is a process many, if not most are confronted with on a continuous basis. But for some, the uncontrollable urge to think a week, a month, 3 months, a year into the future can overtake the day and events of the current moments.

Deep breath.

Traveling alone, little planned, little expected, was the best experience of my life. For some reason, a concern for the future, while hanging over the end of the trip, never became a thought while on the road. And then upon return, shoulders were loaded down with the bricks of planning.

From the start, several close friends and family warned of the difficulty of readjustment back into American life and culture. So, as I came back, I expected the short period of depression, the urgent thoughts to leave, the need to control again. However, I planned for these to all be circumstantial, in response to what I expected to be the difficulties of my return. And while I experienced all three, the reasonings behind each were far different from what I had expected.

There it is. My expectations set me up for more surprises. And when these surprising circumstances for the difficulty of readjustment began to unfold, I panicked. I went into the controlling, futuristic, over analyzing person that I know. Now, there are benefits to all three of these; however, boundaries with these, as many human characteristics, must be adhered to (within reason). We cannot allow the worry to take over.

Essentially, what this boiled down to for me, was confidence. I panicked; afraid I would be unable to bring into my life at home what I had learned over those 3 months. I was scared because I did not return with just me as a different individual. I returned with me as a different individual, plus relationships and possibilities I did not plan for. Those were scary add-ons to my life.

Not only had I returned to a place I was unsure to call home, but I had returned without the close friends I had met. I over-analyzed how things could go so wrong. To an extent, I expected the worst. And once again, I panicked.

Deep breath.

Today, I finally forced myself to take a break (even though it has only been 2 weeks since returning to LA). My mind needed to relax. Take a step back. The quietness of the empty beach calmed my soul and settled my mind. I realized how simple it could all be if I just relaxed. I needed to regain that confidence I possessed along my travels.

Sometimes we need to force ourselves to take a break. We need to plan retreats where we can calm. We need to have the confidence that life can go as well as we hope without us controlling every move. We need to learn to embrace and not be overran by the surprises that come at us.

It may be hard at first. In fact, I can almost guarantee it will be hard. But keep reminding yourself, in time what needs to happen will. And, what happens may not be what is expected. Surprises lie all along the routes of our lives. Just believe and trust things can happen without your control. Because remember, sometimes “it’s nice not to control everything.”

IN…………….OUT………………Deep breath.

“I am a wanderer.”

The transition. When the flight touched down in Los Angeles at the Ontario Airport, mixed emotions confused me. Happy to be back and overwhelmed with the desire to be back on the road. Even as I write, emotions flood my being.

3 1/2 months ago, when I left LA, many asked what I had planned to do upon my return. Confidently and comfortably I answered “I have no idea. And that’s the way I want it.” Brilliant at the time, this concept allowed me to live and appreciate each moment I was experiencing without being clouded by thoughts of the future.

Now, back in this city, I’m confronted by just how much I did not plan. Place to live? Had no plans until July. Work? Nothing in line except the dead-end job I left. All I returned with was my experience of travel, the desire to leave the city as quick as possible, the small savings I did not spend, and a trip back to my home in Hawaii to plan and organize.

I promised to not rush myself once back here. To take personal time to adjust and resettle. I quickly found my old life creeping back and the stress of the job hunt too real to avoid. As I have often done, I neglected the real needs and fell into the trap of panic and stress one will often experience without guarantees of anything. I began to do what I promised not to.

Betraying the promise to myself in the short time back, only negativity controlled my thoughts. Disappointed with so much I quickly lost track of what I wanted and needed. Finally, after spewing my negative thoughts to a very close friend for a good portion of the midday, I had to reevaluate my perspective. Were these negative feelings due to being gone and away for so long? Were they simply a part of me I was able to neglect and not work on while gone? Whatever the answer, it was how I felt.

Th 3 months of travel introduced me to a carefree, loving-life side of me where I gave up control that I hadn’t known since high school. When I got back, it was gone. I promised just before leaving South Africa and again in Egypt that I would carry with me this new person back to LA. Just talking with my friend in South Africa reminded me of this.

We often make promises that for one reason or another we are not able to keep. Perhaps most broken promises are those we make to ourselves. Whether it’s a promise to accomplish a dream or the simple promise to just be nice to a certain person, or the promise not to become a certain type of person or commit a certain act, we blame life circumstances for why these promises are not upheld. The truth of the matter is, a broken promise is something that occurs because we just don’t have the passion to keep it. Is this a bit harsh? Yes. But for my life, it is the truth.

When I left, I made myself only a couple promises (a couple of which will be kept for only my knowledge), continuing to recommit to them as the trip progressed. Now that I’m back, why must those be broken? Today, and even right now, I take a step back. I must reevaluate my perspective and what is of any matter to my life. Then it becomes the process to hone in on those specifics and realize these promises were not just for myself, but for those pieces of life that truly make it all worth the effort.

My promises that have been upheld are the testimonies in my life that seemed to give me the most passion. Those broken were failures of my humanity. I had to take a step back before more promises to myself were broken. I can see what I wanted to return with. A dream. A fantasy. A passion. One day at a time allows these to survive. Calm and cool, I let the transition take its course.

“Part of life. Some things we have no control over. But at the same time, it’s nice not to control everything.” -courtesy of a man in a foreign land.

“I am a wanderer, trying to find his way home.”

Transitions…Entry and Exit

The process has begun. Confronting the life and realities left behind. When I stepped off the plane in Houston a week ago, I had hopes that just perhaps, the official return could be postponed until Los Angeles. Perhaps life would allow me just a bit longer.

In this past week I have been thrown back into both my fears while being gone, the changes that I may not be prepared for and the lack of change that worried me before even leaving. (Please don’t assume you know what any of this is referring to, you may surprise yourself with how wrong you are. Just ask me).

Life seems to be like my travels, transition after transition. However, the sadness and disappoint that may arise during travels is so much different from what occurs at home. At home, as much as you prepare, it always seems harder. On the road, the less you prepare, the easier these transitions seem to become.

Upon my return, I knew I was in a different place in life spiritually and emotionally than where I had been 3 months ago. I finally claimed who I was. I looked in the mirror and finally saw me.

In a previous blog, I wrote about living in my fantasy and trying to return with that fantasy still alive and making it into a dream and greater possibility. While wall after wall keeps showing up, that fantasy is still strong. But what happens when fantasy clashes with the realities of home? Or, is my perception of a clash actually the meshing of the two?

My stay here in Texas comes to a close 3 days from now. I return to LA, the place I have called home for nearly 4 years. A city full of culture, life and opportunity; and yet, disappointment and some fear fill my mind instead.

An exiting seems to be coming to a close. An entry has begun. Seems as though the universe is slowly phasing out one piece of life and phasing in another to join this journey. I can no longer ask myself “Am I ready?” Ready or not, life is going to happen.

I will not forget what the past has held. I will not forget how the past has shaped me. I can’t forget those prior faults or the successes. But I must focus on now. I’ve embraced, still somewhat fearful of, the “phasing in” process that is being undergone. How long will this part of life be? But to even consider this takes focus away from the now. It steals the possibility of enjoyment for life. It throws extra stress and, as I have experienced time and time again, can even scare us to the point where we personally sabotage the new, hopeful entry.

I must, at least say goodbye. Whether for now or forever, goodbye to those parts of life that make an exit. There will always be room for a return. And now, hello. There is room for the new arrivals. Whether it be an introduction of job opportunity, social interaction, travel or person to person relationships. Welcome to my crazy, hectic life. No promises, no guarantees. But whichever category “you” (applying to any of the above) fall into, you are welcome to stay and interact for however long and to whatever extent you choose. And to others, welcome back. You know your previous experiences. Please let your return signify a new stage, maybe another chapter.

And finally to all. Everything you want to know is at your fingertips. Just turn the page and read. Or more simply put, just ask. These are the continued memoirs of a single, gay traveler.

“I am a wanderer, trying to find his way home.”

Today, let me take you on a journey, a childhood fantasy that once was only part of the imagination. A child’s imagination can often provide the greatest hope for a future. It can help to plant the seed for something incredible. Once we lose that child-like image of how great life can be, we enter a dangerous world of defeating opportunities.

There was a point in my life I lost the child within. I allowed my insecurities to destroy some of the greatest moments of my life. I fell into the dangers of the world. Then, through a short moment of clarity, I reclaimed the lost child, revived a dream and created a reality.

3 months ago, I began living my dream at a point in life that seemed to provide little hope. I left a place I called home for 3 1/2 years. I left a job, friends, and family behind. I set out not knowing what I would find, but desperately hoping for some sort of epiphany or change to occur.

The moment I stepped off the plane in Cape Town, South Africa, I was thrown into a world unknown to me, no expectations, simply hoping I would have a place to sleep that night. I entered into a life where for the first time, I truly felt at home with myself. South Africa provided enough reason to eventually reroute my roadtrip and return. It was only the first stop.

It’s been 3 months. 9 countries. 14 towns/cities.. Thousands of miles. And some of the most incredible people I have ever met. I found friends. Met communities that would teach more about the world and myself than I could have ever discovered in the States. I found comfort on the road. A home. And eventually a greater appreciation, understanding, acceptance and love for myself.

There were people like Angie, President of Beacon of Hope, Popo, Vice President of Beacon of Hope, Jandre and Pierre, great friends from Pietermaritzburg, Kristy, Olly, Heather, Keith, Mohey, Luciano, Jean from Cape Town, Mary, founder of SLA and so many more. Incredible stories, many of which I have been unable to share thus far.

Various adventures lined and detailed the journey. Scams, hospitality, generosity, tourist attractions, hitchhiking, bus rides, train travel, sleeping on houseboats, horseback riding, being drenched by the mist of Victoria Falls. There were the long nights filled with sheesha (hookah), some nights of intense drinking, nights that were hiked through, evening border crossings, day wine tours with friends, meeting the random stranger on the bus, my first ever all gay birthday party, countless braais. I got lost, experienced a night with extreme possibility of sleeping on the street, a booze cruise, sleeping by a river filled with crocodiles, having to rely on strangers to ensure my safety.

After the first 8 countries, Egypt became the last. Surprisingly, it became the one place that introduced me to friends across the globe thanks to the experience of couchsurfing. By my last hour in Egypt, in the small group of friends we had formed, there were Egyptians, Americans, Israelis, an English Pakistani, a Chilean traveller, an Argentinian surfer and a Frenchman. My last official night included the beach island of Demietta, where I would discover the northenmost point of my trip. Finally, I had reached the meeting place of the Mediterranean Sea and the Nile River. As I sat there, reflecting through every experience, including those listed above, I realized that while the journey through Africa was coming to completion, my dream had just begun.

As I departed, tears filled my eyes.  A reintroduction into reality can often be more difficult than anything we can ever anticipate. The, confusion? of it all was detailed in my journal:

May 28th: “Since arriving in Cairo, so many things have run through my mind. ‘I want to go home.’ ‘I’m not ready for this to end.’ ‘If only…'”

May 31st: “Individual experiences have formed individual stories. Reflection is now part of my daily activities. I sit here, 3 guys in this flat with me, and still my journey is a solo one. It all began with me. It will all end with me and God. The accompaniment of my Father. I’m now ready to return. No expectations, very little plan and a whole lot of opportunity. I return the way I began. A single, gay traveller completing his dream of a lifetime, beginning life again.”

June 1st, just before departure from Cairo: “I know I’m not ready to return. I sit here on the verge of tears. I love my family. I love my friends. But honestly, besidse finances, what is calling me back? Nothing. How do I take the energy from this journey back? I have no motivation.”

Take off in Amsterdam: “And so the process of returning approaches. Am I prepared to go back to the luxury of what my life was? Am I ready to be confronted by the lack of change? Can I handle the change that has occurred? These are questions I find myself nervous to discover the answers to.” “I’m slowly becoming ready for the return. Nervous. Excited. Life will never be the same.”

Flying over Pennsylvania: “My mind keeps bouncing between life before I set on this journey. Life before October. Life on this journey. The life that awaits me once I step off this plane. My adventure, this phase, ends in Houston. I keep trying to figure out why tears slowly roll down my cheeks as I think of this. Shouldn’t I be excited, in anticipation?”

“The moment I step off this plane, into that terminal, life begins…again. Kind of scary, isn’t it? It’s an adventure all over again. Day by day. One moment at a time. That is the only way for me to live this life. I must learn to appreciate what each individual day brings. The possibilities are endless. Opportuniies have laid themselves on a platter for me. Fear doesn’t control, but it still adds to the experience and adventure…….There’s the smile. returning has been hanging in the air. Let’s just get this started.”

I sit here now, in the home of my parents in Frisco, Texas. Still unsure about this whole change and return. And as I read back through this writing, it occurs to me a minor detail was missed. Perhaps a detail that is so insignificant to the rest but speaks volumes to me. In Cape Town, something happened, a reentry into my life that has been missing for 4 years. Music flowed back through my fingers and a part of my spirit that was lost for so long was found once again. I reintroduced myself to the life of a pianist. A demonstration of the significance of this whole journey.

I now realize the importance of keeping the child inside of me alive. Those seeds that were planted years ago are coming to life. I hope that some have been motivated to reenter those dreams of their childhood and make them happen. This blog was a travel journal only for this trip. But I have a feeling this won’t be the last blog. Enter childhood once again. And if needed, allow life to begin…again.

“I am a wanderer, trying to find his way home.”

Caught in my Fantasy

I sometimes wonder where the next step in life is going to lead. What will my next choice determine? What will be left in the past and what will be created for the future?

I began this trip journalling everyday, jotting notes to record every experience I had. The journal quickly turned into an opportunity to simply process my thoughts and soon became something that I did only if I felt the need or urge. It’s been a full week since I’ve touched that journal. Caught in the occurrences of the past week, it seems as though I have chosen to live in my current fantasy, not allowing much else to enter my thoughts.

Unfortunately, this , the 24th of May, designates 8 days until this adventure will be done. While the fantasy has been amazing, reality looms as the inevitable truth of my life. Yesterday a friend asked me some questions pertaining to choices I would be forced to make upon my departure from South Africa. He quickly realized that at that specific moment, I was choosing to just let the fantasy continue, not think about the reality.  

Throughout these past 3 months, choices have been laid in front of me. Whether pertaining to my safety, to my emotions, or simply to where I would be eating or if I would be eating for the day, each choice has been part of this adventure. Now I’m understanding that those decisions were for the immediate, an assurance of getting through each day, no (or not much) planning for the future. Today, the choices that must be made for the future are becoming more clear, and that much more daunting.

Do I let this fantasy just be that, a fantasy of a traveller? Or, do I let the fantasy take on the effects of a dream, where reality is that much more attainable? Just because the fantasy must end soon does not mean the dream has to end with it. At this moment, I must keep living in this fantasy, for as long as I can.

Cape Town, for the second time, has been one of the most incredible experiences of this whole trip. While experiencing the town all over again and the surrounding beauty has been fun, it has been the people that have made the difference. While I’m excited for my return to the States, it seems as though Cape Town has brought more questions than I could have expected; questions that will have to be answered at some point somewhere in the near future. And sadly, I must leave again, departing from the country I have found to be my home for the past 3 months.

Leaving for Pretoria tomorrow or Wednesday, then flying from Johannesburg late Thursday night. I will be ending this fantasy in Cairo, Egypt. The ancient city of pyramids and hieroglyphs, Cairo has much in store for visitors. Typically an excitement for all who travel there, it unfortunately has the designated title of “the end” for me. Which is why I must keep living in my fantasy, enjoying all of these next 8 days as much as I have lived and enjoyed these past 3 months.

That is why I am choosing to let this be the last blog of my travels. To be continued upon my return to the States. I must force myself to keep my fantasy alive as long as I am able, in hopes that this fantasy can turn into a dream I can return with to Los Angeles. I’m living my fantasy, the next step is to be living my dream.