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Thursday, May 6, 2010

Mimco & Sand Storms

It is harder. Being here. Home.


In Europe, I was so busy seeing and doing, I couldn't think. Now I remember.


You know that feeling when you break up with someone, and you can't listen to certain music? I can't listen to Mumford and Sons. After The Storm throws me back into imagery of driving down red dirt roads 4 girls squashed into the backseat, my head banging on the door frame as we go over the bumps. The whole road is bumps.


I claimed my time in Europe as debrief. But it was running. Being here, people ask about it. At church they talk about it. And I have to show my parents my photo's.


It's easier to feel cynicism than anything else.

Shane Clairborne, The Irresistible Revolution.


The more I think about, the more I realise how completely different worlds are. I have left one world where death and fear are a constant mindset, to live in a world where Fashion Week makes news headlines and we complain about our high paying jobs.


Circumstances are relevant to worldview and interpretation. I'm trying to filter my shifted and shattered worldview from offending mindsets I'm surrounded by. And not sounding arrogant.
The thing is, I don't know more. I've just seen things. And that changes you. I can't help who I've become, and sometimes I don't like it. I wish I could discuss the Romance Was Born fashion show with excitement and critique like everyone else. And spend a few hundred dollars on a new Mimco bag because, hey, I work hard and I deserve it. (Please note: I still understand the need to purchase Mimco bags and wallets upon occasion.)


So this blog will be homage to the adventure that destroyed me. I don't really care who, if anyone reads it. But if you are, read it knowing this is my opinion and interpretation of the places I have been and things I have seen. And I'll say it how I want, and try to keep the truth as raw as possible.

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