How long until the curse is undone? Even beyond another sunset and these legs are still broken. On the way to the peak I slipped again because of the flowers. I lay there and prayed for a helping hand, only for yours to appear and point towards the sky reflected in my eyes.
It gave me the strength to stand, so I gave you a hug, and for that moment I knew a part of myself that is immune to being cursed, or blessed. Sometimes I try to know it without you, but all that's left is a pale blue. The rain started to fall then, so I lay down naked with my mouth open. My tongue got wet and it tasted of you, turning my mind into a rainbow and making places in me sing that haven't heard music since before sunrise.
I turned around to kiss the mountain and felt my prayer fall onto it like snow: thank you for the curse of brokenness.
When I get to the peak I gaze out at the city in the distance - white dots below the tattooed Kyrenia mountains whose arm stretches out into the horizon, pointing towards Turkey. There is silence apart from the wind through the pines. Is this my chance to say goodbye?
To who? Cyprus isn't alive you prick
The next day I am walking through the old town and notice again the many Greek flags in Πλατεία Φανερωμένης. They are many fluttering hands pointing towards the birth place of the Greek Orthodox Church. I myself have many opposing pointings going on within me such as towards you, and in the other direction towards myself. Why do we reach for identity in locations everywhere but where we ever are?
I don't know, and I don't care. And who is this 'you', who are you speaking to?
It's all in the past now - my year in Cyprus, which had many firsts: using Tinder, getting over 10 likes for an instagram post, experiencing the effects of Brexit, discovering the melting point of Tungsten. It feels like one of fate's larger hands has slapped my body into the air, causing me to fly to England where I now wallow below overcast grey-brown London skies. But another slap comes, this time from my own hand, with good intentions, to make me look forward - it's all in the future now.
What's in the future?
It all
Yes obviously, but what is this 'all'? You said it was in the past a moment ago.
That was all that's past, this is all that is to come.
I live in the now so I'm not interested in the past or the future.
Don't be a dick
Fuck off, you stop being a dick. I've had to put up with your spiritual allusions, cryptically expressed sexual repression and attempts at being some sort of 'travel blog writer'. I'm glad it's over.
It's not over. I'm going to continue in the next instalment: amexicojournal.blogspot.com
OK, thanks for letting me know. I think I'll give it a miss.
