In only a few hours I will be on a plane,
traveling to a part of the world
that I've never been.

I can't help but to wonder if this place
will become my soul mate,
this city,
my groom.

Will I fall in love with the lights?
Will I dream of the noise?
Will I wish to stay there until I grow old?

Will I be willing to leave behind the walls of the suburbs that I've grown to loathe? Waking up to the same picture outside of my window. Going through the same motions everyday.

My life is a song on repeat.

The desire for change, the ache for adventure burns inside of me.

The world is a treasure to discover, and your scenery should never stay the same.

Maybe in this city I will find myself. After all,  isn't that what we are all trying to do?

It was there.
And then it was gone.
Frantically scrolling up and down I somehow knew the search was useless. The frustration streaming through my blood kept my mind off of everything else in the world. I was mad. Angry. Questioning why this would happen. Hard work pays off? Or hard work gets "accidentally" deleted by the stupid device that I have ignorantly become so dependent on. It has become our way of communication; our way of becoming something else. We try to make technology a mold of ourselves. Piling in personal information until we are left holding our entire life in our palm. We stick our faces behind 4x2 rectangles of wires and data, instead of looking each other in the eye.

But you see, the problem is, you can't bleed into a device. It won't absorb. Your feelings, your life will merely sit on top of it until your phone eventually shuts down.

But you can bleed into paper. You can write and write and only be concerned about how badly your hand is cramping. You can hold it, you can feel it. And you can hope others feel it too. You can carry it around and never worry about it becoming "outdated."

There are no upgrades.

There is only inspiration.


~pw