Truth be Told, I’m Telling on the Traveller

There are certain decisions that you make when you are away from home that aren’t altogether savory.

Border crossing can become an addiction and it is time I tell on myself in that I am a boundary whore.

It started in Bosnia when I was 21. Around me Yugoslavia was disintegrating, and something, something deep, must have been excited that new countries were forming within arms length of me.

Shit, I must have thought I was going to knock off Serbia that year.
And now new countries, 103 of them, still wait for me. They call to me in the middle of the day as my eyeballs soak up normalism and they pull me with every dollar spent that isn’t a tether rope toward them.

But I am making a choice. To visit a country within a country. As I did in China, the largeness will grow from regionalism and not strife or difference.
Just like a kid from LA, I will learn that in just a few blocks difference everything can change, be slightly twerked, or be the same but you have changed.

It is time to go IN


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