As it seems, the flatlands of Oklahoma City aren’t as flat as I had originally thought.
For one, there are often many layers about a city that go unnoticed, and if you’re really gangsta, you’re able to dismiss the ones you do notice. When I finally arrived to Oklahoma City, I felt a kind of vibe that suddenly propelled me down the street a few blocks from the Greyhound station. To be honest, this vibe actually hit me sitting on the bus as we pulled into the tiny bus terminal surrounded by the usual suspects of Greyhound bus travelers.
Disclaimer: this type of sudden excursion is often very common in my travels. Even as a young whipper-snapper, I remember exploring in the woods and having to be rescued by adults other than my parents. You know, the adults that wear blue uniforms that resemble somethings on the sleeve about protect and serve.
But, I digress.
Regardless, I grabbed my bag and shuffled myself down the street where I found myself in the middle of the city. I wandered a bit until I reached a section of the city and for once, I felt that same I am home feeling that I’m used to finding on these trips. It’s the I am home feeling that originally gave me the strength to tackle the now five trips back and forth across this country. It’s also the I am home feeling that draws me closer to the people who make this trip so rewarding for me.
…and now, I’m here writing about it.
Yes, I’m still home too.