Cassidy Parking | Musings
Although this blog began its life documenting my travels, it's since evolved, and I'm finding it ever-more tempting to write about the impressions of my internal world.
Cassidy Parker, musings, internal world, personal writing
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Although this blog began its life documenting my travels, it’s since evolved, and I’m finding it ever-more tempting to write about the impressions of my internal world.

It’s difficult to put the content of these posts into a single word. Musings seems apt.

September marks seven months of freelance. Seven months of buying groceries with the pensioners at 11am on a Wednesday, of riding the waves of desperate anxiety and joyous I-got-a-gig relief...

“Put this on,” he says. “You’re going to need it.” “What for?” “We’re going out.” “You can’t be serious. It’s snowing.” “Which is why you’re going to need my coat. Put it on.”...

When I was living in Toronto, I learnt why the Canadians call it fall. It’s not because of the leaves that descend; instead, it’s the invisible fire in the sky. My sense is that it’s always there, the fire. I imagine it gaining in strength during the summer months...

Seventeen-oh-two. Seventeen-oh-two-twenty-seventeen. Ones and sevens and zeros and twos. Numbers I’m familiar with: they’ve designated my birthday for 31 years. 17 February 2017. I woke up early this morning at home with Almond cat...

To get here, pick up the N3, heading east from Johannesburg towards Durban. There are shortcuts that bypass the tolls, but if the traffic’s not too bad, it’s easiest just to stick to the highway. Depending on the season, the road is flanked by mielies, sunflowers...

Not long after I moved into my first house – my own house, one that was neither my childhood home nor the university residence I shared with other post-adolescent girls – I found a running route I loved. I would turn...

A few weeks ago, a friend called me. Actually, someone I shared my life with once, and with whom I waded through a turbulent, post-break up quagmire for four years before we fell into two years of total silence. We reconnected about seven months ago...

My heart hammers in my ears. I attribute it to one of two things: either its the whopping altitude I suddenly find myself at, or it's the fact that I'm fighting with a Bolivian border official about my passport in a language I barely speak. For a moment, I feel...