Heading Home - 2012

Towards the city where a snowfall is magic
from the city where a snowfall is impossible

The city with the frozen sea
The city with the never-frozen sea
The city with the frozen lives

It's time to travel again, from the island that feels like home, to my home, that indeed feels like an island. I've came across many new routes and, what really matters, new states of mind. Better to write it loudly, so that I will remember that it's still possible to experience completely unexpected situations. Always. And always beyond my imagination.
This year has been that of a deep excitation on the slopes of the Volcano, on the fragile surface of my deepest feelings, on frozen ideas of warm worlds, the year of the longest travels on the shortest distances, of the high pace of my heart beating while sliding down and down and up and down and up and up and up, of the deformation of time, when the same moments were running fast and standing still and I felt stretched and lifeless and homeless and meaningless, but never useless.

Now that my speed is again high enough, here would come the time for a break, here will come the time for a new journey, starting on the route heading Home.

No more unknown places for this year, now I'm just heading Home.