Sunday 24 March 2013

381


I wish that I could write about how it was for me,
when I grew up among the mountains, wolves and redwood trees,
but I was never there, were you ever there?

I don't know why this feeling keeps on coming back to me
That I need to go into a place where I can see that things can be small,
even the trees, and the cars, and the roads and the houses and the other mountaintops

And the only thing that is big is the sky. 

(To All My Friends)

I actually dont like the mountains that much. Too high, too static, too dangerous in an uncomforting way. But I do love cities that feel like mountain landscapes: with towering buildings to make you feel small and with windows that look down on rooftops to make you feel like the queen of the world. With millions of paths and corners to discover and get lost in. And somewhere in between all of this enormousness, hidden away from everything and everyone else - a small, secret cave of warmth and comfort; surrounded by it all and yet completely isolated and on its own.

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