Journal

Memory of a Fellow Vagabond

One of the most memorable encounters during my 2 year stint as a vagabond was another traveller at a hostel in Christchurch, New Zealand. A modern, clean place that had an indoor turf area and outdoor stainless steel fire pits. The kind of hostel that had “pods” rather than “bunks”. It smelted like an airport in there.

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Introversion is Overrated

I would call myself naturally more introverted.

I used to spend hours happily writing inside my private notebooks, never opening up to others about the deep things.

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