|Me trying out the local drink Kashera|
I passed through his home town today.
I mentally kept checking out and off the landmarks I recalled him excitedly telling me about.
I listened with one ear as he went on and on about the prominent figures that belong to his hometown.
The delight he expressed in their ability to light it up during Christmas season and how much he loved it.
I was much more interested in seeing his eyes light up as he described the area.
The little smile that crossed his face at the rush of good memories.
Never did I imagine I would one day be in his part of the world.
Not only be in it but unable to tell him about it.
As I looked out for the places he mentioned,
I went back to that day; relived the memory and his excitement then snuffed out the onslaught of memories.
The sheer irony couldn't escape my nostalgia.
I was in the hometown of somebody I used to know. And I couldn't tell him about it.
Even if I wanted to.
The driver urged me to get in touch with him; tell him my experiences and how I love the lushness of the green here.
I do not want to.
I no longer wish to be apart of the circus.
What people fail to understand is; the circus stops being entertaining at some point. One can only attend a few uncertain but adrenaline pumping shows before the amusement wears off.
As much as I am tempted, I am no longer interested.
I have outgrown a one man circus act.