pseudo gypsy...

another day ...
another fucking packing day to be exact...
this is it - will be the last friday ever at Notting Hill Gate - my first place - the one that I got on my own since I came to L town...

here's lie a dream - a hope - and a little enthusiasm..
amids Victorian concrete jungle and big white painted framed Georgian Windows

text to night : 

He   "Hiya gypsy...how's your packing going ?"

Me   "me ? gypsy..."

He   "well...we are. we're pseudo-gypsy in a sense. we never settling down - and always moving-on

Me   " can I call? "

He   " sure , call me up..what's up?"

Me   "........"

He got me thinkin......

Do I really never settling down...physically, mentally, emotionally,
probably I am a gypsy re-born soul
here ...there....and everywhere..

but probably it's a good definition , that I never stumbled upon the rock and stop

I carry on only my bag and my freedom...

back to packing,sigh,01.34am, notting hill gate over looking serene ladbroke grove, London.


-just humming bird-