If I had a heart
If I had a hometown, a country, I would long for it when being far from it
January 2, 2007
If I had a heart, I would give it to my family.
But I no longer possess a heart.
I have now mastered my heart and it is me who dictates whom, how, when and where my heart should love. That is why my heart has lost its independence and no longer manages to be playful, throwing me yet here and yet there, and no longer is it commanded by my mind, ordering him to function according to the skewed rules of this world and the norms invented in it.
If I had a family, I would give them my heart.
But I no longer have one.
I have now cleansed the last fibers hanging in there after having cut my umbilical cord, connecting me to the people who once brought me to this world and the people with whom I grew up.
If I had a hometown, a country, I would long for it when being far from it.
But I no longer have a place where I feel I have my roots.
That old feeling of belonging, vanished the day I lost connection with the place at which I was born and moved to a new place, where I never was accepted nor accepted. From now on, and perhaps already for a while, I am simply a traveler without any specific destination, letting the winds and the direction of the birds’ wings decide where to go next, in order to find new comrades of war, new passions, new winds scented with secrets of all ages, and in every corner, at every beach, or any big city I can settle down in order to find a home, in the heart of a loved one.
If I had a home, I would stay.
But I no longer have a home.
I lost my home the same day she bid me farewell.
But I know what my home looks like.
It is looks like a loving look, a gentle smile, a familiar way of hearing my name pronounced, a sincere sigh, a hot kiss, a sweaty orgasm, a moment when holding each other and watching television, an instant when our bodies unite in a dance as it used to do, in watching her long hair covering her back when I make love to her from behind, in having my nostrils be filled with her smell and my mouth with her taste, in sharing a glass of wine and laugh, in dreaming about faraway places - oceans filled with dolphins, beaches full of shells - in planning a successful life together, in seeing all my future unborn children in her deep and loving eyes, in being tipsy and then exhausting ourselves in love-making, in watching the look of her eyes when waking up in the morning next to her, in the smell of the freshly made coffee that we shared in the mornings, in...
I did once find a home in the heart of my lost love.
My hometown is now lost and my home gone.
I am a traveler; I have no roots and yet I can find a new hometown and a new home anywhere, because I know how my hometown and my home looks like.
I am a traveler...
... I travel light.
My lifelong pilgrimage in which the journey itself is the destination, I do not leave anything behind, and whenever I leave a place, I make sure that I have paid my dues.
That is why I no longer have a heart. Because I choose whom, how, when and where to love and simply leave when the time has arrived and all my longing and love for the people that I shared some time and created bonds with will be saved in my being and confirmed with teardrops in an airplane, on a bus station, in a moving car or on the deck of a ferry.
If I had friends, I would be their playmate.
But I no longer have friends.
My friends are now left behind and can’t even reach the dust of my feet. I left them all behind as I had to grow. They stayed.
But I have allies.
My allies are found everywhere. They are the one’s who are the same as I am -- even if only for a short moment, sharing a glass of whiskey, chatting on the internet, indulging in music or telling each other our life-stories.
And then, the inevitable moment comes... the time that I have to leave again, to grow more.
That is why I have no friends and only allies.
I am a predator...not a hunter, not a gatherer and not a settler.
I am a traveler predator.
I roam around - in all spheres.
I always see my allies here and there.
I hunt alone, and yet I share with me of my conquests.
That is yet another way of keeping myself light.
I never stack... whatever I don’t need I give away as offerings to the human account; to a stranger on a park bench, the cleaner at a hotel, a traveller, a refugee or to my allies.
What I stack is not seen in this world and will be seen in another realm only.
I am a dying traveler predator.
My years on this earth are counted.
I may live another 50 years and I may die today.
But still I am a dying traveler predator.
I am a light-winged dying traveller predator without a heart, without a family, without a hometown and without a home.
But I know how to let go and let my heart play again at command, and I know how to love a family and I know what my hometown and my home looks like.
I am a traveler predator.
But whenever I find a home, I will stay. Comment