on going.

How shall I go in peace and without sorrow?
Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I
leave this city.
Long were the days of pain I have spent with-
in its walls, and long were the nights of alone-
ness; and who can depart from his pain and his
aloneness without regret?
Too many fragments of the spirit have I
scattered in these streets, and too many are the
children of my longing that walk naked among
these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them
without a burden and an ache.
It is not a garment I cast off this day but a
skin that I tear with my own hands.

Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but
a heart made sweet with hunger and with
thirst.

-- Kahlil Gilbran, The Prophet


I'm not one to quote poetry, that's for sure. But I just picked up this book to reread and was struck with the first page.

About leaving. I do leaving so well! I do it often, sometimes I go out in hugs and well wishes, most times I disappear, sneak out discreetly. I also have a tendency to burn some bridges during my exit.

About leaving Burlington. Very soon. And I just want to sneak out right now. This place has made a mark on me. I didn't make a mark on it. It's not easy to leave a place you spent all your energy, on people, work... I suppose there's a lot of my emotion sort of washed onto all parts of the town. Maybe I left my mark that way.

But the town ain't going to remember me. That stuff wears away pretty quickly.

And when I leave things will wear away quickly too 'cause that's what I do.

But I still have two weeks. To exit graciously after some reconciliation. Don't know whether it will be a disappearing act or a grand curtain call.

My bets are on the disappearing! Poof!