wherever i lay my head (part I)
the last time i breathed a sigh of relief at being home again - the aaaahhh stretching out in mind with the exhale of air, the ooooo dropping with the shoulders at last relaxed from the adventures of travel - was while smoking a cigarette out a side door of barajas, my bag freshly stamped from the return flight from milano, before getting onto the metro and heading back to my 4th piso flat at gran via.
i havent been in paris long enough yet to leave and return, to know if i'll have that same reflexive comfort upon landing and fighting my way onto the rer. in fact, the closest ive strayed from the city limits since i trudged from marghera to mestre to treviso to orly to dario's flat, too disoriented to even notice i'd changed countries, is clichy and cachan - hardly a few kilometers. but i suspect, be it orly or de gaulle, sooner or later i will.
home. a word, just a word.
but a loaded one these days.
(this is the beginning of longer rambles, but the rest is quite messy, so i'll leave it at this for now)
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