I moved out of my cozy little dungeon today. Mira and I woke up, threw some things in bags, gave my weights to the manager of our building (for which he jumped up and down smiling brightly) and took off. Funny little feeling to be out on the road again after four months of sitting somewhere. In fact, this was as long as I have ever stayed in one place continually since I left my family’s home when I turned 18. It feels good in a way to be loose and roving, but in another I know that it insinuates failure.
So I tried to settle down a little in China and make it a home of sorts. To just study Chinese and martial arts, exercise, and just live a routined existence. I have never been too good at doing this, and figured it was about time to give it a go. But I took it to the extreme…and excessive yin becomes yang and all that garble. It also turned spring here and the flowers smell sweet. The road beckons and there is not much else that I can do. The urge to migrate lives on, you know.
So I picked up my rucksack. Said goodbye to the still smiling and hoping manager of my building and moved into a small little hostel next to my university; where I will stay for the next week to finish up my semester’s work. Then up north I will go with Mira. Then Mongolia it is looking like.
To Mongolia with a new chronic case of boils . Yeah, I think my tattooing practice has finally come back to bite me. I suppose I was due though. After being tattooed in varying hygienic conditions on four continents, I suppose I should have picked up something by now. But I think that my case may not have been acquired from the tattooing proper, but from a little boil faced guy that was just hanging out in the parlor that keep trying to touch my fresh tattoo. Silly, I suppose, how things just happen. Now I get a boil on my shoulder every two weeks or so. Doctors are as useless as usual. Not too major, it is just a little hindering. Now I will just be known as the boiled traveller….off travelling the world…with boils!