My time here draws to a close. I have until December the sixth in this fine place. The past month has been a mad tumult of exams, bushwalks, car camping, dancing, and playing music. I'm becoming tired. But that isn't to say I'm ready to go. No, I'll never be ready to leave Tasmania, but I'll have to all the same. There are frayed shoelaces that keep tickling the back of my neck tracing all the way back to Charleston. Soon enough, I'll have to follow those laces back. My time here has been, utterly, the most sublime period of my life. Nothing will be the same after this: my life is destined for new things, now. I am not a winsome fool any longer. I have found what I truly need in this place and, though I am leaving quite soon, I am changed, changed utterly, for the better. I'm sorry for those back home who won't understand this: I hardly do, myself. But, don't worry, everything is getting better, all the time, and I am bound for good things. Hobart, I'm not gone yet, we still have a few weeks yet. And New Zealand, just you wait. Charleston, it will be all too soon.
I will walk this earth and call each stream and road home.
I will open myself to every city and field, person and animal,
that occupy and create this wide world.
