In the Air
Sleep was light, almost absent. I wasn’t going to eat, but sitting in business class, the curry looked too good to resist. Noon passed quickly. I put on a film about Richard Burton — the Welsh actor. His story struck me. Without his mentor, he might never have pulled himself from the weight of his struggles.
I reflected: I’ve never had that kind of mentor. No one to believe in me in that same way. My life has been carved alone, forged by persistence, sharpened by necessity. Even what was given to me could be taken away. What remained was only what I forged myself.
Landing in Dubai
Stepping once more into Dubai — a city of echo for me. Last December’s pain still vibrates through the streets. I picked up the car, a far cry from the days of drivers waiting with open doors. A reminder: the Old Earth offers luxury, but at a cost.
Arriving at my friends’ place near the Burj Khalifa, I felt both welcomed and out of place. Daniel and Dasha, newly married last year, hosted me with warmth. I made a matcha, then headed to the gym, hoping to shake off the fog in my head. It wasn’t easy.
When I’m not focused on the New Earth, I feel lost — as though I must play a part that isn’t mine, just to get through.
The Illusion of Permanency
Watching their daily life — married, sharing space, small quarrels and routines — I saw what most call living. But for me, it is illusion. Permanency is the lie. The Old Earth clings to stability, pretending it can make certainty last. But certainty doesn’t exist.
Some hold on until their knuckles bleed. I cannot. I chose differently.
Closing the Day
Dinner came — risotto with prawns, unusual for me, but I ate, exhausted. Later, I half-watched Troy, slipping in and out of focus. The day closed in fog and fatigue.
But beneath it all, a truth remained: this journey, this SHM shining through, is not for most. Few choose it. Yet it is mine to walk, even when alone, even when exhausted.
