Moving along

Hello.

I am at a Wimpy, at the airport (OR Tambo International).  In the smoking room/corner. Waiting for my 9.10am flight to Capetown. Smoking and drinking bad cappuccino.

Wimpy has never mad good coffee — ever, but they have a smoking room and thus we are here.

hey, why do smoking rooms at airports smell like last night?

I am on my second trip to KaapStaad in a month.  I've never done that before, ever.  Moreso, I've never traveled so much in short space of time.

I could not be anywhere else in the world right now, but exactly where I am.  I love traveling.  Strangely, I can't claim that: love traveling, I don't do a lot of it to call myself a traveler, but, one small step at a time, many times.

I have traveled way too much times in my mind that, the dream becomes a fantasy — the mind demands empirical evidence to generate the dream, if you know what I mean.

Alas, there is a guy next to me reading this (yes you — stop reading my words), :-)

I have a one-way ticket — I don't know when I am coming back, my true self doesn't ever want to come back, but my honest self knows I will be back, to go back permanently (end of May, well, that is just a plan).

I gotta go to a bar somewhere — I'll write again in Capetown.

1ove, nomad.