Coming and Going And Hold Your Horses

So I'm back. And I don't know where to start, nevermind what to say, about the last few weeks of my life. India? Was incredible. Was unbelievable. Indescribable. And totally worth every single trouble that I went through (and there were many). My time in India is more than just another experience to share; the photos I took and the stories I have don't at all capture, nor do they do justice to, the situations they were taken from. But of course, a lot of people say that about certain places they travel to, and this certainly doesn't mean I'm not going to take some time to sit down and write about it all. Whenever it is that I'll be posting some sort of Recap, you can trust that it'll be long and probably long-winded.

For now, I've fallen right back into my Spanish groove without missing a step. I got home (as much as Spain can be called 'home') on Saturday morning and after resting for just an hour and a half, I got up to go to the market. A girl needs her farm-fresh produce, even if she's exhaustingly jet-lagged and dirty, having slept in the airport overnight. Then I ate, showered, did two loads of laundry (see: all the dirty towels in the flat), washed all the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Sunday found me lazing over my Inbox and then Monday morning, there I was on the bus to school for a full day of classes. It's like I never left.

Which isn't true at all, because I *did* leave. For a long time. But I came back, still me, but y'know, different. And, as if I haven't learned this lesson before, everything else was the same. Just because I went somewhere else for a while doesn't necessarily mean the things behind changed along with me while I was gone. Everything is just as I left it; from the disgruntled neighbours and the messy flat to useless classes and administrative red-tape. I don't know if things have become more or less annoying, or whether my skin has grown another few inches thicker. Change is a funny thing because when it's internal no one can tell. People only see the external stuff: the darker complexion, the shiny stud sticking out the left side of my nose, the invisible sign on my forehead that says, "Don't bother asking me how India was because I have nothing to tell you." Yet.
5:10 am