"traveling can be an eerie sort of loneliness sometimes," Scott was saying. We were eating dinner and I hadn't been really listening because I was looking at the last onion pakora. But "loneliness" caught my ear and I looked up.

"I've been traveling for seven months now. And when you leave home you think you have this great community of people around you. And at first they write all the time, and then less and less, and you less and less. And pretty soon its been months since anyone has contacted you and you start to wonder if you were to disappear completely, would anyone notice? And I've been thinking about it..."

When times are dark (or distances are far) friends are few.

maybe I haven't been gone long enough, or disappeared enough. I feel my friends and family still so strongly. You all are still with me. still. still there is a loneliness. A sense of disappearing and wondering who would notice. and who it would matter to. But those aren't accusing thoughts, just the slow meandering thoughts late as night as you are so far away and about to get into a jeep and go even further away.

We woke up at 4:00 this morning when the moon was still bright and the sky still dark, and caught a ride up to Tiger Hill to watch the sun rise. Dark car ride with strangers, and my thoughts are still on last night, wondering meandering. And death and life and, I wonder, is there anyone I would die for? Kill for? And brain goes on, is there anyone who would die for me and kill for me and what would be the point and is that Orion over there and this concept of family it is all so different for all of us and, fuck, he's not slowing down for the corner. don't die don't die don't die.

And the thoughts weave in and out. And I love you all and. then there are new people everywhere you go. Last night we met Ethan, and he likes my clothes but not the jewelery or the hat I bought and "oh my god where can we get a drink around here and I love your pants and your shoes, the whole thing, I love it" and he came over to play rummy and we trash-talked the whole game and suddenly you're running into people on the street you've only met once and they feel like your old best friend and he's saying, "kate, come on, go to Nepal with me, and lets go find drinks and go to the zoo to look at the red panda!" and yesterday you were strangers and now you are friends and it's all so strange these pockets and communities of people that spring up.

And I miss you all so much. I have things to tell you that I can only tell to you and I have tea and stories and things to write. And miles to go.

but first sleep.

or tea. in the shadows of darjeeling.

"I'm leaving in two weeks," I'm telling scott as we're walking down the hill today. Three months, it's almost been three months.

"yeah, that's not enough time," he responds, "at three months you're just beginning to leave home at home." Is his weird paradox.