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dimanche 6 avril 2014

Letters from the Northern Lands


My Love

Tomorrow we shall reach the coast. Although a lot has happened, those few days in the mountains seem short now. We have seen a lot, but at the same time, we have seen little. It is strange how time seemed to move so slowly, days seemed so long, and now it all seems so short.
Today, we finally took a shower for the first time since we left. The warm water seemed to wash away dirt and fatigue alike. Coming back to life again. At the same time, we feel frustrated, as if everything ended too soon, although it has barely even started. Travel has a strange effect on time, or at least our perception of it. Slow as it happens, short when we turn around and look back at it. But I do not mind, for this lingering frustration shall drive me to go further still. Tonight we rest, and tomorrow we shall push on. Hold on harder. Walk faster. Bite down until our teeth break. We take our short experience here, our mistakes and our regrets, and we shall grow stronger. We will neither bow nor beg.
No, my Love, we shall not give up until we become who we are. Neither god nor destiny shall bring us to our knees. We shall prevail, my Love, and I shall come back to you a man with his head held high.
We are fighting against ourselves, and we will win.


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