Right now I am wishing for a day where I could play the flneur. A day of the senses.
I miss travelling.
Grounded and home is nice. Coddling and warm.
But nothing compares to arriving a new city and just wandering.
Like when arrived in NYC, three months of freedom ahead of me and American stars in my eyes.
Listened to the noises of feet, voices, machines. Admired the flashing outline of a hand when my whole life it's been a little Don't Walk red man. Trash bags piled up on the pavement, a dusting of frost.
A quirk at every step, mythology at every turn. The grid, the subway, the Park.
A muddle of synaesthesia, symphonies and souvenirs. Everything and nothing all at once.
I miss travelling.
Grounded and home is nice. Coddling and warm.
But nothing compares to arriving a new city and just wandering.
Like when arrived in NYC, three months of freedom ahead of me and American stars in my eyes.
Listened to the noises of feet, voices, machines. Admired the flashing outline of a hand when my whole life it's been a little Don't Walk red man. Trash bags piled up on the pavement, a dusting of frost.
A quirk at every step, mythology at every turn. The grid, the subway, the Park.
A muddle of synaesthesia, symphonies and souvenirs. Everything and nothing all at once.