There's a quote I saw in one of the walkway tunnels in Hong Kong about traveling relating it to a book, and those who do not travel only read a page. Agh, books and travels, it's the ultimate dream for some. I've been to many places and yet still so many to see. To the cities, where lights and skyscrapers delighted my young heart. To the mountains where I trembled in thoughts of fairies and other-worldly creatures found only in the pages of my literary staples. To the wonders of the oceans and the hidden mystic of the lakes. Each brought euphoria similar to the sweet taste of a gourmet ice cream licked in a cold mountain-top. Still, I long to see more. To feel and hear more. That life isn't exactly how I wanted it to be but at least it gets me there. Where I've always wanted. Travelling gives me a kind understanding of nature and everything it entails. To understand not just the paradox of everyday living but of the lives lurking in every corner. These are...
Most of my write-ups about the places I've been to are delayed as I am usually preoccupied with other things besides writing. Although I intend to write to pursue my passion, it always got in the way, moving in circles, and was never materialized. After a while, that passion soon fades away and then there are just one too many reasons not to go on except on days when I have nothing good to do but write. You see, writing among other passions is just like a seed waiting to be watered and cared for every day to flourish and grow into something powerful and enduring. I've always known that and though I am inclined to write at least on a monthly basis, it is somehow just too much to accomplish. Perhaps I need to re-channel my energy and focus on something worth writing for. Perhaps it isn't too late. Perhaps these thoughts can still be saved. Just what are the odds? So I'm up on another journey. To find that proverbial balance and make something out of an ordina...