leave

So I am tired of moving around, constantly watching the conveyor belt at airports go round, round round, endlessly round. Everywhere I stay, I leave a piece of my heart behind. London took a big chunk, debilitating and I didn't think I would recover. Even Singapore has managed to carve a sliver for itself (things I like about Singapore: Lee Kuan Yew, public transport and RJC Literature S Paper). But this, this, leaving this, I fear may be the death blow. I am thinking of leaving and its 2:30am and I can't sleep because I don't know how to leave this country. It has claimed too large a piece of my heart, and try as I might, I can't seem to wrest it back.

go firmly to the window
and listen with deep emotion,
but not with the whining, the pleas of a coward;
listen - your final pleasure - to the voices,
to the exquisite music of that strange procession,
and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing.