There is something inside me, pulling at me. Whispering to me. Like a lingering fire, that seems to never burn out. When I try to fight it, the fire take charge, burning wild and free. My heart breaks, my mind gets polluted by the smoke. The darkness overcomes me. I fall deep into the rabbit hole. Time passes by me, while I stand still. The world keeps moving while I feel paralysed. Like a bird slowly getting his feathers plucked.
When I follow the light, the fire is contained. It warms me up and fill me with contentment. It gives me joy like a bonfire at the beach, burning beautifully. My soul is a gypsy and I can not control it. I love a place to call home, stability and safety, but when I travel my soul is home. Some say I can’t have both, but I refuse to settle for a world in black and white, when there is so many beautiful colours all around me.
I feel whole when I get follow my wandering soul. When I get to see and explore what the world has to offer. When I can taste food I never would cook myself, my mouth is satisfied. When I get to experience other cultures and listen to other peoples stories, my mind gets stimulated. When my eyes get to see the wonders, my heart gets filled with love.
That is when I find my deepest connection to myself, and to the world around me. That is when I find pieces of my deepest self and get to know who I really am. That is when I grow, when I can spread my wings and feel free. That is when I can contain my fire and follow my passion.
The world is a book and whose who doesn’t travel, reads only one page.