In the whole world. You can be a traveller. You can be an observer. A partaker of ceremonies. A spectator of seasons. and lives. You can breathe in the history through arches and bridges. You can smell streets and lakes. You take pictures. You make friends and parties. You experience the air. You eat the flesh. The living heart of a people. The soul of a city. It is a feast. A carnival!
And then. You move on.
All the while. Knowing that your journey is incomplete.
(And you fear. Inside the laughterest of your laughters. Your very core weeps)
That it always will be...
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