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December 23, 2011

Two Years Later

Somehow, it feels like a lifetime ago, a different home, a different life, a different me. Two years ago, give or take a couple of days, take, ten to be exact, Life Unplugged breathed its very first words. Come to think of it, a lot has changed since then, but in a way, in a very good way, a lot has remained the same. True, circumstances change, people grow, they move away, maybe motivated by this sudden urge to make a life of their own, or maybe because they had to get out of the shiny bubble they had been living in all along. But whatever it is, whatever the situation, deep down, our hopes and dreams remain pretty constant, independent of the distance ripping you away from reality.

But "pretty" is not necessarily "entirely", and as fascinating as it is to me, our dreams seem to change every year. Or at least mine do. Actually, you could be living one right now but you wouldn't even know it because you're too busy being busy, chasing one after the other, faster and faster, again and again, until eventually you'd have to stop. Stop. Think. Breathe.

If I learned anything this year, it's that happiness doesn't have to be chased, especially if happiness has been sitting right next to you this whole time, holding your hand, giving you every reason to just be. Happiness is a broken umbrella in the rain, the chance encounter in the library, the last page of a sad but beautiful book, the little girl on the train waving you goodbye, the purchase of mini Christmas decorations, the thought of a memory, the wait for the snow that never falls. Happiness is. It just is. You don't have to chase it. If it's not there, it will come to you, and if it's there, don't chase it, but then again, don't forget to look for it.

Oh, and if the predictions are true, if the world really is going to end on December 21 2012, if Life Unplugged doesn't get to celebrate its third year anniversary, then so be it. But you have to promise me one thing, you have to promise me that, starting today, you're going to look for it. It's there..

Just Look For It.

(Happy New Year)

December 4, 2011

Through The Clouds, Part Two

They asked me questions, questions I knew most of the answers to, like an invigilated exam I didn't know I was supposed to take. They wanted to know what I'm doing with my life (humour not being their strongest suit), if I met someone special, if I'm happy. Yes. That much, I knew.

As requested, I completed (and passed) the first round of multiple choice questions. I then drifted on to the second and last section, the essay, the million dollar question, the question I knew I was never going to get right. Are you ever coming back?

I heard words coming out of my mouth. For all I know, they could have been short bouts of silence. Yes. Wrong. No. Wrong. Try, try again. Maybe?

Yes, they asked me questions. And now, looking out through the foggy window (goodbye beautiful sunshine), half asleep, already missing the three people who mean everything to me, now, as the plane lands in London, I find myself thinking about what I said, what I should have said, and what I would have said had I known the answer to the question.

Through The Clouds, Part One

There are a lot of things I have never done on a plane. Going into the specifics of what I have in mind is probably not such a great idea. For instance, because I know the curious bunch, will be, well, curious, I have never written a blog post. And so, today, on this three hour flight from London Gatwick to Malta, instigated by the lack of better ideas, I find myself writing.

The truth is, there is something comfortably thrilling about being airborne, eleven thousand two hundred and seventy seven metres above ground to be exact. Piercing through the white, soft, cushiony clouds is rather extraordinary if you ask me. It makes you want to embrace the emergency exit signs, all the while having the very intelligent very strategic "I have to go. Peter Pan is waiting." excuse ready up your sleeve.

But no, being interrupted by a bald headed steward giving you an undecipherable lunch that almost resembles prison food, is good too, especially when accompanied by the loud thoughts of a local middle aged woman who seems to be overenthusiastic about the fact that she can digest processed food even at this altitude. Unfortunately, Peter Pan is going to have to wait.

Yes, going back home, whether it's planned, or whether it's unexpected, like today, is always emotional. A difference as big as the Mediterranean Sea, separates the act of doing something because you want to as opposed to doing something because you feel the need to. Sometimes, there's a fine line. In this case, there isn't.

But now, as the plane approaches it's final destination, as the mixed emotions start to escalate (maybe accelerated by this sudden urge to use the loo), and just as the first track off the third consecutive album plays through the newly purchased headphones, reality sets in. Breathe.

This time, it's not about you. This time, it's about them.

(written on Thursday, December 01, 2011)