Today

Freedom is a word spelt in three letters, and fittingly enough, in capitals. The date had always been approaching, but in fits and starts, sometimes magnified out of proportion by occasional spells of euphoria or delusion, sometimes shrinking back into microscopic insignificance when seen across the vast distance and darkness of sleepless 50 km road marches. There is no need nor reason to sentimentalise the experience, because it swayed between banality and burnout, but letting these two years lapse without having taken notice of those odd moments worth remembering would have been a waste, for there were people worth appreciating and events worth reliving.

We are all in search of lost time; we are all looking for the threads that used to bind the most ineffable moments of our lives together, and what we cannot regain we have to wait for, and we wait in the hope that what we cannot find, someone we have yet to meet will return to us with smiles and kind words.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way — in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only..." - Charles Dickens