I miss the days when I’d hop off a cab and get down on some random street and walk around aimlessly until I realized I was too tired to move on.
I don’t know when I exactly started to enjoy this nomadic behavior. But what I can tell you for certain is how exciting it is to be permitted to observe a parade of stories walk right by you. Sometimes I feel like I have all these people and all their stories to be figured out. All sorts of crazy shit flood my head that both the left and right side of my brain would eventually need to agree on the plausibility of it all.
I miss being right in the middle of rush hour like a devious wallflower.
I miss getting lost. How come no one tells me to get lost anymore?