on the go 1

It has been 48 hours and I still haven’t gotten over it. I am really enjoying the feeling of being a complete stranger. A different place, so many different faces and on the mirror a – somewhat – different me. I like the fact that I am no one here and, somehow, can everyone or anyone whom I wish to be. I like it that I am able to get lost and not be able to go back, that I don’t know a single soul in this place and, specially, that I don’t understand the language – that people pass me by on the streets singing chants and songs and I can’t understand a single word of anything, and that smiles, even though not seemingly to go a long way, will have to suffice. Hand gestures and smiles, my only weapons, both sword and shield. And I am not even tying to speak anything, for neither do I want to understand nor to be understood. In fact, I’ve been craving the loneliness, pictures, and to achieve a mind in peace. I just want to walk, looking up, admiring all those beautiful buildings from underneath the blinds of my scarf and coat. I want to admire the sun that rises late and the yellow lamps, the bright lights from the endless parallel lines that cross, endlessly and orderly.

Cups of coffee have been very expensive, but I’ve been warming up. I am in love with fonts, writing, windows and bistros. Also with the idea of love.  Not falling in love, but loving things and people and winds. Change. I’ve been hoping for a bout of inspiration, a stroke of genius, watching every lover and every street corner, every shadow in the plazas, collecting every hooker pamphlet I can find. Maybe I’ll call them. The city’s crowded and diverse and I want to put my hands on it all. I am getting there.
Maybe tomorrow, when it’s still dark out, I’ll walk 39 blocks again and bump into someone and maybe – just maybe – talk.

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2 Responses to “on the go 1”

  1. Pedro Says:

    Very good. I think I feel like that sometimes… Y’know, wishing get lost without bas consequences.


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