The Travel-Bug Pt. 2

photo courtesy of Crystal Cha

I always wanted to travel, to leave the little bubble I call home for awhile and go somewhere unknown, somewhere new, somewhere with strange cultures, somewhere maybe even dangerous.

Somewhere I don't speak the language, somewhere off the beaten track, somewhere, unseen and unheard around the next corner. Just somewhere.

That's it. That's all there is. Somewhere.

And in the famous last words of Francois Rabelais:

I go to seek a great perhaps.

That's it. A perhaps. It may not be what I want, it may be the exact opposite. But perhaps...perhaps it will be. Be what? Be everything.

I do know this though. I am not seeking to find something, not to reach the end of the road, not to finally grasp the prize. The prize IS the very act of seeking.

And after the seeking? I don't know. But I do know this. The best part of leaving, the best part of going away in search of perhaps-es, will always be coming home.
Coming home to you.