I don’t know what to say.
There’s an ache. Deep down somewhere, I don’t know. Like the muscles of my body are trying to curl in on themselves and die with every thought I have. Like they’re trying to find a cave that they can disappear into. Or dig a nest of safety. Surrounded by barbed wire. To hide.
It’s something. Not quite pain. A dull ache that takes away my breath. Then relents again when it seems like it’s too much. Just a little. And it’s never enough. Then it’s back again with a vengeance like the thoughts that spawned it.
And then it bubbles up to my face and warms my cheeks until I
Remembering Guyana ... by Temujinsword, literature
Literature
Remembering Guyana ...
Time is one of those crazy things that catches up on you when you least expect it. It seems like it was just yesterday that I was lying in my bed in Guyana for the first time, sweating in the night-time heat, listening to the sounds of the cicadas, my heart hammering with fear, excitement and anticipation of the adventures that lay ahead. I remember thinking 'How the hell did I end up here?' Yet now, there is nowhere on Earth I would rather be. I wish I was back in that bed, a full day behind me, and a full day ahead. Because - believe it or not - that foreign place became my home. I had a life there, a wonderful life. It is a challenging tas