My flight landed recently, after a long, dreamy vacation into the fantasy world. It takes time to acclimatize back to normal. I still haven’t arrived completely. Parts of me have been retained there, as with any dream that grows on you, and is difficult to part with. But one by one, the pieces are slowly coming together, the impressions are settling, I am back home. Back to my life, my daily routine and little nocturnal rituals. Back to my friends, who – although not as magical – are there for me when I need them. Back to the self I didn’t notice I had left until just now.

When I think of the magic place I’ve had to leave, of its mysterious wild mountains, dry river streams rich with the flying oysters that swim their way into the indigo skies and orange suns, or its turquoise ocean which with its gentle kisses keeps reshaping the shore, I still feel utterly sad for not being able to make it my home. Solace lies in knowing that it’s a world I would have probably never been able to fit in, anyway.

Soon enough this magical trip will turn into yet another treasured memory in the rays of my eyes, and I will have two precious pearls to show for it.


Photography by George Christakis

Alien, alienated. That's me.

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