On the way back from a trip,
I ponder small revolutions – little does it matter if the time off was as little as a day or a whole year, little does it matter if we’re talking a new haircut, a drawing to get secretly inked on your skin or how to spend my next span of time.
On the way back from an interval of days, trivial weight of time taken off from early mornings and duty calls, I realized i’m too stubbornly ambitious to be taking myself so seriously, to spend my months chained to a cracked vynil playing the same day over and over and over. Alarm off at 7.27am, yoghurt, coffee, bike ride, tap in at the reception, kill time, more coffee, small talks in the elevator, tap out, bike ride, sleep.
Same tastes, same rhythm.
Word for word.
On the way back from this trip, bracket of days I let myself marvel at a city I’ve never loved. And there’s little as striking as washing all expectations away in the morning and enjoy the little things.
So let impulse take over and show you how a pinch of self-confidence can start a fire in your eyes, in your chest, in your veins.