The constant desire to be some place else lingers. On a hotel bed. Indulging in a foreign cuisine. Being inspired by strangers.
Why does the mind not settle? Why does the existing not satiate? Why is there a desire to be larger than life, a bigger person than the one I already am?
Why can’t the likes of Facebook feed the need to be inspired? Why does photography mean travelling to an unvisited part of the hemisphere? Why does the greed for romance demand intense passion and obsession?
Always the same questions. Always the same desires.