Transition

It's great to be here. So far so good. Weather's great. Perfect change from what would be like a 9 or shall i say 48 degree, now that I am on the other side. It's so surreal cos there are similar street shops yet the bigger sizes, opposite road signs and ascending slopes are making sure i get the difference. If I fell asleep I would still think of the old street names of queens and kings and trams leading to the victorian markets.

The new job has been great. Getting my apartment suited up is now becoming second nature but I can't wait till its fully doned. Shall be a pad for my creativity and award winning espressos.

When strangers become familiar I shall have proofs for your visual satisfaction.

Departure

It may come as a surprise to some but not at all to everyone. Those who truly are inside the circle have the full clue to why. Why did I leave so that I could find a better life only now to leave yet again after the tremendous amounts of investments poured into the pockets of several few in high power.

Immigration is a very perculiar topic for the eyes of man who cannot find rest in their rightful nest.

I don't suppose this to be some kind of goodbye see you again. Once again, the canvas that was on its way to the art auction house got tainted by some deep skin tissue scar ready to tear up the contract and convictions of any murdered doll. It saddens me to leave this canvas behind - one that cannot be repaired. So I am moving. Those who have no idea will classify and frame this within the zone of those who run when it gets tough. How cliche the consideration and I am really disappointed that the plot got plucked out of the context of 1954.

Just me and my bags and my heart I am leaving for San Francisco to seek that illusive dream that went down with you in the ashes. I will raise the banner once more and I will build my castles once again. I am still the same sparrow who knows how to fly. The least you can do is to let me do what I must.