It's probably my own history of fragmented wandering, socialising and cracked relationships, but somehow this one was the most touching to me so far.

I'm reminded (probably because of circumstances in my own life) of a fragment of a song...

She took off a silver locket, she said remember me by this.
She put her hand in my pocket, I got a keepsake and a kiss.
And in the roar of dust and diesel, I stood and watched her walk away.
I could have caught up with her easy enough, but something must have made me stay.

And the big wheel keep on turning, neon burning, up above.
And I'm high on the world.
Come on and take a low ride with me girl
On the tunnel of love

And now I'm searching through these carousels and the carnival arcades.
Searching everywhere from Steeplechase to Palisades.
In any shooting gallery where promises are made.
To rockaway rockaway, from Cullercoats and Whitley Bay, out to rockaway.

And girl it looks so pretty to me just like it always did
Like the spanish city to me when we where kids
Girl it looks so pretty to me just like it always did
Like the spanish city to me when we where kids

as evolved and nuanced is the discussion here about politics and economics, so are your vignettes full of emotional intelligence.

this one was even deeper than the others, the descriptions of the people and little place-details, the complexity and richness of the relationships, striped with joy and sorrow, and most of all the easy flow of autobiographical narrative, in perfect concordance with the style of language, open, breathing, suggestive of great space, while compressed in tight kernels.

so that's what great writing looks like!

thanks for sharing your heart and mind with us, it's always mind-blowing to read your posts, and they do a wonderful job of spicing up the array of diaries on offer here.

this series is over, right?

sure hope you have some other jewels up your sleeve, and keep sprinkling them every so often on ET's table. it's a privilege to have absorbed some of life's most precious essences through your perceptive, uniquely personal stories.

you're writing the book, nomad.

 

'The history of public debt is full of irony. It rarely follows our ideas of order and justice.' Thomas Piketty