a long way from home, seaside town, basking in sunlight the freak day of summer that managed to get over the line, that's where i find myself this morning, outside a slice of obscure history on the may day festival, as pagan rites and rituals are played out in a tiny village gathering. i've always had a soft spot for witches, although i don't align myself with their systems, i find myself sympathetic to their history, to their plight and movement. here they come spinning around, whirring dervish like, dancing and waving, the parade seems to flow like water, passing onlookers from afar, travelers and locals alike, children look bemused, virgins nervously glance, the green man hails the new season and everything shall come to pass.

i buy a postcard, i take a walk along the beach, i eat some good food, i drink tea, i talk with my friends, i make some vague plan. i wish i could stay here longer but i have to move again, moving and moving, through family, a few days oasis in calm and normality, peace and harmony, to the battle i must return. the savage chaotic nature of some weird inversion of love, dysfunctional and mean spirited maternal conflict, she never bonded with me, i was snatched from her arms at birth and placed in an incubator, she must never have really known if i would make it, and that must be the root of her suffering. either that or she hates me, it feels, either way i can't win for soon i will be wrenched back far away, ten thousand miles again.