Are those who travel just trying to run away from something? This article suggests that notion. However, I think it may be possible that people who travel are actually running toward themselves. Perhaps even sprinting toward self discovery. Who are we when there is nothing in our surroundings to identify us?
I’m standing on a street corner in New York City eating a stuffed grape leaf. The desire is always to be somewhere else. Here is this perfectly good day: cloudless, dry and breezy, but I feel as if I’m watching the commercials in between my life: when will the show come back on? The desire has always been for a place, rather than myself, or the people that inhabit a place, to change me and improve me. Maybe something incredible will happen if I go here today. If I sit in this coffee shop, rather than that one. I think of a Greek island I haven’t been to in fifteen years, and wonder what it would take to get me there, and, briefly, what would happen once I got there.
Such is the weakness of those with wanderlust: it’s just a flicker of a thought, a few frames of a…
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