I love travelling because I don’t get to do it often, I love packing minimal clothes and coming home with more, I love the UK because I’ve read things and romanticised it and written about it even before I got there — from the crumbly floors to charming antiquated bookstores selling strange books for a pound each, I love the huge expanse of sky and stormy grey clouds I get to see — an utterly unobstructed view of sheep and baby lambs playing with their little mountain of dirt, I love everyone’s fancy coats (especially the deep turquoise one on that blonde lady with the updo in Cambridge City Centre), I love the bicycle culture, I love how I’m not in tune with my reality there
I love how everything can be temporal, how I didn’t miss anyone, how I didn’t get the aching empty on WiFi feeling on previous trips, I love how I played John Mayer’s Paradise Valley on the plane rides and how I’m playing it at home
But home I do miss the moment I get home
Why does one only miss things (not when they’re gone) but when you’re there?
Home gets better when you can bring home your materialism with you in the form of many many many books and tea and cosmetics, I love how the books stack up against each other, old on new, just
I want an apartment with big windows and natural light and a mostly carpeted floor but with a wooden space somewhere so I can sleep on the floor, and books everywhere I don’t even know if it’ll be organised but I’ll decide later myself
I also love people, I love how Alyssa and I talked about constellations and poetry and the books and teas we bought that day, I love listening to Jade whisper-rap vigorously behind me on the bus as we drove past green, I love laughing at Joce dancing even more vigorously to the High School Musical lyric videos playing on Deanna’s laptop, the uncanny after-dinner singing on Cambridge streets (‘Eh what song what song? A happy one okay!’), I love how the night a bunch of us sat piled by the furry staircase and talked about things
But now I am back and I headed down to the photo printing shop to get some photos out and now they’re strung on my wall or placed into frames
I don’t really appreciate the heavy meals now though, on hindsight. Nausea doesn’t really work well on long haul flights but I’m quite glad for everything.