The airport is buzzing with people, eagerly, hurriedly finding their way home.

Parents with young kids have relieved looks on their faces. Children calling their parents saying they have arrived.

A “Welcome to Indonesia” sign printed above our heads as we were disembarked from the aircraft. The hot, humid air slapping our faces, as if snapping us back to reality.

Home.

And I’m going home, too. One of my many homes.

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Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

Build your own dreams, or someone else will hire you to build theirs.

Farrah Gray
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