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5.27.23: Valparaiso
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I'm in a new city with my oldest friend. we step off of busses and file into streets. They are lined with old buildings painted in faded colors, and I like to imagine a time when they were brilliant. We wander a lot. I should be tired, under caffeinated, and hungry. pale buildings, overcast sky, empanadas, fruits, and clothes: what does it all mean? where does it all come from? I keep my hands in my pockets.
We walk and walk and walk. I eye my reflection in the windows of shops and cars, and I catch a glimpse to make sure i'm still there somewhere inside. I am. My hair is a little bit longer, my face a little bit paler than when i was home. I have been floating for 3 weeks now, living out of my backpack, boarding on and off busses through a world written in a languages i cannot understand. It's bad for the ego, which is good for the soul;.. I am emptied out in the best way possible. I feel nothing.