And what did I do?
I visited a country, and cried in my heart for people whom I had never known. The KGB museum in Vilnius was hurtful. It was housed in an old
prison, and had the prison cells, torture chambers and execution areas underground.I do not want to try and describe my feelings that day - they cant be.
But still, I think they do deserve a moment of my life, a
drop of my tear. This is to remember them, what they dreamt of, and of their children vowing not to forget.I think I finally got over my granny's death. I traced back the same route I took, when grief numbed, I travel halfway home from office on a chilly December night before realizing that I left my home keys in office.
I went back there, and came back with the keys, and remembered that I left my laptop and my bag back in office - my big bag with all my money and means of money.
I crossed over the bridge, not knowing where I was walking. I was in limbo.
Some weeks later, I walked the same path; in daylight, enjoying the beauty.
So here I am. This is me. And I am typing the first lines of a Bryan Adams song, which means I have to sleep. Now.
But now that I am here, I promise to talk more to you, to keep you posted on life, and the crazy stories that come with the territory.
