Goodbyes

I've already said goodbyes to this place once. And here I am about to leave it forever, again. Can't say there's a whole lot here I'll miss. I'm too used to leaving. Too used to living in the present, and in other worlds.

Which is why many of todays great big goodbyes from people I barely know (and can scarcely understand thanks to a half surmounted language barrier) feel like one great big guilt trip.

I should feel so much worse about leaving these people.

Or maybe not.

Great, now I feel guilty about that too.

Another country lost in the past. Another group of people who will cease to have meaning to me outside of memories and idle moments.

Life goes on.

I hate that phrase so very, very much. Mostly because it's true. When something big happens it should matter, it should leave a mark, a permanent wound. But, instead, we heal. We move on as though it didn't matter.

Life goes on.

Life marches ceaselessly onwards, trampling over the fallen bodies surrounding it, leaving them by the wayside as it surges ceaselessly forward till it succumbs to the same fate.

Given, this sentiment is often more about death than goodbyes, but still.

Life goes on.

Meaning goes off.