why does the Mona Lisa smile?

when i watched him walk out of view, past the checkpoint and into the secure area, i felt myself wilt. all the air ~ sucked out of my lungs. i now faced a full 8 weeks without him ~ my pillar. i kept his shirt, last worn next to his skin ... and when i wear it, his scent embraces me. i look at his pictures ... and i marvel at how very much of him the camera's simple image failed to capture in its pixels. and i marvel how how very much of him he left with me. in the still of the night, my heart beats a lonely beat ... in search of its mate.

i know why the Mona Lisa smiles. i'll never tell, though.

here are some pics [from flickr] of where we're going.

train station @ crewkerne

a path in the woods

i am exhausted, spent, a virtual emotionally frail wreck. i ache for someone i love. i swell in anticipation of seeing that someone very soon ... and of beginning life again. i can hardly wait to get away from all this ... particularly from north america and its disappointing human culture. particularly, i can hardly wait to put more distance between myself and the usa. i think to get away from the gun-toting revenge seeking christian empire will feel very good, indeed.

every place has its flaws and faults and drawbacks. some more than others.

how many homeless junkies are there in somerset?
how many panhandlers?
how many rude old chinese men that spit onto the sidewalk?
how many gangs warring over themselves?


one more question ... ARE WE THERE YET?