Heart Desires

Several nights ago, I was walking my last night on the beach of Huanchaco, my head crammed full of thoughts. I walked aimlessly along the shore until I found a man softly playing his kenya while looking up to the moon.

I stopped for a bit to listen to the beautiful sound, and to reflect that this man had made peace with himself. He needed no more entertainment than to offer a tribute to the moon.

I did not want to leave.

Partially to blame is Henry Miller. I read ¨Tropic of Cancer¨ which was a riot. I found Miller to be a likeable scoundrel. The second book I read on my travels titled, ¨Tropic of Capricorn,¨ left an undeniable impressión on me. It opened a wound which instead of healing, it is festering with pus. This ailment of the spirit is poisoning my blood.
If you read the book while a call from within clamored for attention, you will know what I mean.

I don´t want to go back, yet I must.

If anything concrete resulted from the hours of reflection and introspection, is the reawakened drive which has infused millions of immigrants with the dream to search for new and better opportunities. To focus on the goal, to work very hard and to live frugally, in order to send money back.

I am now simply a citizen of the world.