Date: August 7thish

Zagreb is the first stop on our way to home and our last
stop of home.

Thus our journey begins: with a fully packed van, six
travelers already weary and faces towards the northeast.

Three hours until Budapest. Three hours until a new culture,
a new language, a new beginning. Three hours until a new city, a new school and
a new batch of friends.

With familiar music playing to remind us of home, we speed
to our destination, not knowing where we were going to live, and how long we
would live there. We just know our footsteps are directed to the two cities
that are one—Budapest.

Thrice I have said Budapest, and it was not on accident.
Yes, though it is a mnemonic device, as we learned last year, and helpful in
remembering stories, it is not the only reason. It is said three times to
remind myself that I live no longer in Sofia, and I no longer am an expert on
the city I live in.

I am a Budapestite. Not a Sofiana, but a Budapestite.

I am filled with apprehension as I undertake this next step
in my life. And that apprehension is filled with questions. What will my school
be like? Where will I live? Will I have friends that are like the ones in
Bulgaria? Will I even be somewhat the same person when I leave this place in
three years?

But Budapest shall be my inspiration, for it is a city
alight with music and words. So equipped with my camera, my pen, my voice and
my muse in the form of a stuffed dog, I will wander the streets and breathe.

You may say that I’m conflicted, and it’s true. But what I
truly want to know is will the good outweigh the bad? Or will the balance stay
slightly askew towards the bad as it does now? And truly, I do not know which
one I hope for more.

~The StoryWeaver

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