Everywhere is good, where we aren’t
It doesn’t even matter where you are, wherever you go: there, the lack of connection, the feeling of misplacement, the sense of not belonging: anywhere, everywhere, the apprehension of being adrift, stuck in an off-target configuration, pining for something you couldn’t actually name it: images of random, distant places popping up before your eyes, the mixture of different languages reverberating as a tinnitus within, a persistent hum: the chest tightens: missing oversees’ alleys, elsewhere’s mundane and small, friends who are far-flung: the chest gets tighter; the tinnitus, louder: jaded, you fall back on pointless tasks, mindless scrolling, meaningless experiments: all sorts of attempts to silence the nagging voices in your head, to forge catharsis, to time-travel-warn your old wanderlust-moony-self: do not wander too far, do not wander widely: if anything, restrain yourself to travel as every other tourist: carry your cash into an odd wallet, stick to the landmarks, stay close to the crowds: keep yourself away from any alien real-world environment and potential adventures, observe diversity from afar, disregard any alternative worldviews: stay put! it’s a trap, don’t do it: wandering further and deeper will mercilessly crush you: drifting from place to place, hopeless political and social puzzles, a piece of your chest left behind in each place you leave: a void inside: it doesn’t matter where you are, wherever you go: not a place anywhere — anymore — you will feel sincerely happy for calling it home: rather, always the smell of your neighbor’s rice and vegetables, the longing of another mountain top, greener grass far away: an outsider in every land: everywhere is good, where we aren’t.
Written during the Spring of 2022 while traveling as a tourist to Colombia.
