2016.

2016. 30 years old. I travelled. By bus. Train. Cable car. Plane. I lived. In Ipswich. By the road. Out of a suitcase. On the couch. In a bus. In a temple. In a swag. In the wild. In Japan. In someone elses bed. In my own home. I breathed. In smoke. Dust. The night air. Smog. Flowers. Mud. I touched. Hands. Fabrics. Wind. Books. Grass. Feathers. And ran my fingers through the stars. I've seen. Years worth of wonder in just a single spin around the sun. I've seen spirits crushed and built back up again. I've seen feet that look like they will never be clean again. I've seen someone for who they really are. I've seen a heart of gold and tears of joy. Blowholes and motorbikes spinning through the air. A thousand butterflies and bats. I've seen the sunrise and set on both sides of the equator and at 30,000 feet. I've seen someone learn something new. I've seen joy spread across a face and darkness that people usually hide. I've seen all my dreams come true. I've seen when its still not enough. I've felt. Pure happiness. Overhelming heat. Gratitude. Saddness and goodbyes. A numb face. Stressed beyond belief. Bitterness. Solitude. At peace. Longing. The pressure. Apathetic. Excitement. Deep restlessness. Worried. Regretful. Smiling. Spending all this time knowing. It. Will. Pass. Just like everything does. And so will this.