trotting 

If you – like me – are bored of the  path to the office, of the view outside your window and of the grey of the clouds reflected in everything you do.

If you – like me – spend your days thinking of the most remote beaches to land your tired feet, wander into the eyes of those trotters who had bites of the world  and ask them billion of questions about it.

If you – like me – count Mondays as a prisoner on his walls, if you’re led by inertia and the master plan of settling with a 9-5 life gives you shivers

Then point your nose to the sky and your eyes as far as they can reach, leave your bed unmade, your monotonous days and don’t ever look down. I promise you, there’s too much beauty out of this impenetrable bubble, you just need to take a deep breath and abort this damn prefabricated life.

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