see how they resemble one another?

Well I met you at the blood bank
We were looking at the bags, wondering if any of the colors matched any of the names we knew on the tags
You said look it that's yours, stacked on top with YOUR BROTHERS.
See how the resemble one another? even in their plastic little covers.
And I said I know it well.
That secret that you know, that you don't know how to tell... well, it fucks with your honor and it teases your head.
But you know that its good girl, 'cause its running you with red.
What's that noise up the stairs baby, is that Christmas morning?
I know it well...
-Bon Iver, Blood Bank

Do you ever think about how similar we are despite our differences? We are beautiful and diverse creatures yet so much the exact same. We fall into patterns and habits and we act so strange. We repeat the same mistakes and forgive too easily just to be hurt next time. We cling to our fortress we build from the last time yet, completely cognizant, let someone sneak in on the side. I don't know quite how to describe where all my thoughts are coming from, other than that the above song has been on my mind. I had a lesson in a class a few years ago about the concept of a blood bank that I have never quite forgotten. Christmas is always a strange time for me. Well always? No, but the last few years for sure. I can't help but thinking about how strange this journey and this path is and how many people have held my hand along the way. How many things have changed and how many things have stayed the exact same. I am not naive enough to think that the world in the USA has been on hold while I have been over here. I am excited to see what I have been missing out on and to share with my dearest friends what adventures I have been on over here also.
My hope is that these secrets we, for whatever reason, have not shared on social media or email or skype have not deadly poisoned something that just a few months ago seemed so pure.
That despite the inability to pause time, through stability, static and change that the same blood runs through our veins. I know it well. 

who can say where the road goes

if enya is not on your ipod, it should be. i always bust out her albums when i am on the plane, when i am trying to sleep and cant or when i just need to breathe. i have had many of the above listed moments in the last few days. not only did i need her to put me to sleep, i needed her to soothe me. and she's right, only time will be able to answer my questions about the future.

Who can say where the road goes, 
Where the day flows, only time.
And who can say if your love grows, as your heart chose, only time.

Who can say when the roads meet,
that love might be in your heart? 
And who can say where the road goes 
Where the day flows, only time? 
Who knows? Only time.
-Enya, Only Time