in a (moment)um
The whole truth is: I no longer feel comfortable merely revolving in an atmosphere that once defined an ideal comfort. I long for a newness that can only be quenched through exploration and discovery and moving—constant moving. I’ve been doing a lot of roaming during the weekends and in my free time and whenever the opportunity presents itself. Here and there, sometimes near, sometimes hours away. I never take too much with me, because I’m slowly realizing that the more things I carry eventually weigh me down in the long run.
My favorite places to go are places made up of artifacts from the past, the creations of others, belonging to a world that is not mine. Nostalgia in its sincerest form bathes everything in a golden hue. I’ve been paying attention to the different people around me, peering out from their horn-rimmed glasses and leaning out from their earth bound leather boots, snapping a picture here and there, but otherwise keeping their hands shoved deep down into pockets. Girls with their ombre hair tied back in a loose braid with their red-stained lips and men in Oxfords and worn chambray shirts, taking a puff of a cigar every now and then. Observing the nature and minuscule treasures around them, walking slow circles, taking in all this beauty—and I ask myself the question: what brings them all here? And before I can even process this thought, I’ve already found the answer. These people—these strangers—are all here in search of the exact same thing I am: