Flying before Walking

I am flying away again.

The first time I rode an airplane I was only eight months old. I didn't remember a thing.

What followed is a series of flights to and fro the country that I was born in and the country that I learned to call my home. I remember the air pressure, and how it hurts my ears and how it made me cry. I was one of those annoying babies who cry on airplanes. Please forgive me.

When I was 22 years old, I moved back to the country I was born in. It has been six years since then. I have moved to four different apartments and changed four different jobs. I remember being tired and lost like every other person in their mid-twenties.

And I felt more like a foreigner living in the country where every other person looked liked me rather then in the country where I needed an Alien Residency Certificate to stay.

So I decided to go back to school. But not in the country that I was born in nor in the country that I called home. I decided to move to a place where nobody would look like me. And I'd actually be a foreigner.

Location: Manila + Taipei + Birmingham + Adelaide + Melbourne + Shanghai

Features Michelle from #ILoveYou #YouLoveHer https://www.wattpad.com/story/55623388-iloveyou-youloveher

Also features a little blue furball @stitchtravels on Instagram

Cover Photo by: Daniel Riquelme (https://www.flickr.com/photos/koshiro_kun/6811187640/)