Its strange – maybe – that the only time I grow the least bit lonely in my travels is when I am lost in thought or daydream, and someone will burst that bubble by thinking I would prefer to speak to him vs. be alone, all the more reminding me that there are few people I truly want to connect with in life. And furthermore making Italy seem more unbearable than it is. Because all these Italian men think I am interested in them. Sorry, Romeo, guess again.
In Florence, Le Spezie and Cinqueterre this was always the case, and after awhile the attention only made me lonely for the people I wouldn’t mind having attention from. Faces and thoughts that I had more or less packed nicely in a little box and shipped to JFK for my arrival at the end of May, were now fully present in my mind. And I don’t really like this… for I am here, and that is where I want to be. Remembering what is elsewhere just puts me in a state of improbability that is such a waste of time.
BUT until I return to Sevilla for Feria, I probably have some time to waste… Italy has simply left me with time on my hands, and thoughts of other places I had rather be.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment