Where Two Rivers Meet, I Waited
There’s a spot in Nepal where two rivers crash together—one muddy, one clear. I stood at the edge, thinking it would feel profound. It didn’t. I watched the currents fight, then blend, and realized I’d been hoping for some kind of sign. Instead, it was just water, moving on.
I took a photo, but never posted it. It felt too honest: the moment when you expect clarity, but all you get is noise. Maybe that’s what travel is—standing in the middle of something beautiful, waiting for meaning, and finding only yourself, unchanged.
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