Going Back To Innocence

I’m home... in Moldova.

It’s dark outside. Grapes on my table. Cozy brown sofa and a cup of black Tea. John Lennon and time for blogging. The Sunday will be gone in less than two hours. My parents are out and my sister left to her college city already. I missed this serenity, but somehow it’s not SO patent as before.

Yet, I needed the ice cream brought by mom when coming back from work, I needed the grilled mici made by dad, I needed the early morning laughter with my sister…
Things can be so simple, you’ve told me.

In Moldova... I’m home.

Nasc si la Moldova oameni. Neculce se indoia de neamul asta inca de pe atunci?... cum adica “si la Moldova”??? Sa-mi lamureasca cineva.

When Gucci Doesn't Help

Miles&Smiles... am zis si-am facut.

... my orange juice is healthy, served in a plastic glass with a green, thick straw.
... my coffee is bigger, stronger in a white paper cup...
but tasteless somehow.

... between Europe and Asia...
between yesterday and tomorrow ... somehow I'm lost.

Airport Starbucks Coffee shop relfection... Alone. Very alone.

PS. Pour les connoisseurs.

The Marathon Against Myself.

3 km run in the middle of Gulf's desert are enough to know you're not alone in this world. Glorious 22 mins for my blazed muscles. Together with my friends (95% AIESECers) I ran the marathon on October, 31st ... and we all did it for charity... "It's about the experience... " they kept saying...
I experienced gratitude again - for having people who are taking care of me & for having a healthy body (as healthy it ca be with 2 gym hours/ week and lots of shawormas. ouch.)

A long road back home... is waiting for me. A decaf.