Soul tripping going solo.
At a time when the only bug that spread far and wide was travel.
What is it about solitude that seduces me so? I don’t feel lonely. Everyone said I would. I’ve had to learn how truly wondrous it is to keep myself company. The world is infinite in providing avenues for endless adventures. More generous than I’d have ever dreamed. How can I depend on another for happiness when there’s so much support here for my mind to stand on its own tendrils of thought.
I speak not of isolation, which can be a dreadful thing without moderation.
(Non-sequitur: I’m sitting by myself on a rooftop overlooking the wayward streets of Istanbul, drinking my second glass of Efes whilst a remixed version of “I want it that way” by the Backstreet Boys is playing on the sound system. It takes me back to when I was discovering the works of Patrick Rothfuss for the first time.)
I could stay here forever. Or at least for a conceivably long period of time. Or as is economically viable.
How wonderful that I can get on a metal contraption designed for the skies and find myself in a land completely different from the one I occupied mere hours ago.
Contentment envelops me like a cool blanket. I wear a bracelet of beads, given to me by a sweet, local teenager from a home-food experience I attended.
I’ve been sitting here for several hours and I’ve melted contentedly in the heat. I’m going to miss Istanbul. The streets here have been kind to me. The people, even kinder.
I feel like I’ve figured out a way to halt time. I don’t want to unpause the clock and return. But more adventures await.
