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At the airport, waiting to board the plane back to the lil’ island for some good, warm loving.

Twentyfour came quickly and quietly. The years fly by it seems and at the same time that I am pondering the past, I am impatient for the future. And yet the future seems so unwritten, so vast, so unassuming.

And this new year, if nothing else, is reserved to make peace – with existence, with ambition, with disappointment, with frustration, with hope, with longing, with responsibility, with alternate endings, with sorrow, with joy – with being.

 

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