I keep coming back to the same point in my life, I could travel until the end of the world, taking everything that i physically need to survive with me in my backpack, except him, and i still would find him there in another city, another world completely from what we have come to know, i'm finding him everywhere. I feel like i've stepped in to a Romantic Love kinda 50's flick, without the 50s part unfortunatly, and where we are in the middle of the troublesome scene where everything will have to be resolved in order to come to the grand ending of everlastings and happy living arrangements like that. Instead of waiting for that to happen, I am leaving to the next european city that can reanimate me, and shake me awake, the train ticket with just my name on it - to get lost in a city of french and foreign strangers in the most romantic city of the world, Paris - is waiting for me on my desk. Just arrived back home in the low lands and already aching to leave this frenzy, this rain, this life draining place and rat race of the same sad sob stories again.
"my blood runs on but my body stands still" - Virginia Woolf
