Finding home
I'm becoming ridiculously sentimental.
It happens every time I realise I've got to leave this city. Like the nomad I have become, I know my time is up. And despite the comfort that I know I'll see these people and these streets again soon, I can't help but search for a way to bottle the essence of this place.
Every experience I have introduces me to a new Damascus. And this time I think I've found my Damascus.
And that makes it all the more difficult to leave.
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Sasa,
When you come to london e-mail me and we can meet up for a coffee.
Posted by
Maysaloon |
6:14 pm
The inevitable eh?
i have left too many memories scattered around airports.
good luck.
Posted by
Yazan |
7:01 pm
How true. I cannot wait to get back to Damascus. I miss it so much.
Posted by
annie |
6:43 am