When my brother was little he used to make homes for himself. We had a couch made of pillows and he would take them and fix them with a blanket and hide there with his favourite toys and you could hear him whisper and play.
When I was that age (maybe 5 or 6) my favourite activity was packing. I had a small leather suitcase and I would pack my dolls and clothes in my bedroom; I put on my clothes and then leave. While I was crossing the livingroom my parents would ask me where I was going and I would answer: to Paris, or New York or to my family in Deva. The kitchen used to be the final destination. That age, I couldn’t leave. I had no choice but to exist there with them.
Up to this day, if I cannot leave, I panic.
Up to this day, leaving is my favourite thing.
I love train stations, airports, the subway, cabs, drivers, pilots, and all the machines that take me places. Places I don’t recognize: there’s nothing more beutiful than a street you’ve never been on, with houses you’ve never seen before, inhabited by stragers living their secret lives.
Meanwhile, I am alone. Alone in front of their houses, looking as their shadows move in front of their windows. I will not stay.
This is not sad.
Perharps someday I’ll stop, but not just now. Now is for chasing trains.
Kinda know what you mean. And yet, i’m not so sure. I mean, i love airports also, and planes too. But only if i’m on the ground
As for the chasing trains…you will never stop.
this is freaking me out, it’s as if I had written it myself…I have thought of this many many times & I totally understand what you mean
I love leaving places and I love the state of being just about to leave, to get to a new place…or a new house..or a new window-view…
I am so in a hurry right now but I just wanted to let you know I love your article
Noe
we are ghost chasers, that’s why we run, that’s why we leave.
when I’m unable to leave with a suitcase in my hand, i lie in bed and dream about places.
I know I have to, otherwise I’ll get lost, the pavement under my feet will turn into quick sands, and I’ll become someone I don’t want to know.
The only time I wanted to belong and stay – it turned out so bad, so bad, perharps it’s not for me.
Or maybe we’re just running away permanently, well, it’s a way of being.
I love you ladies (you too, Mihai).
J, staying is just an option, of course, as we all know it. And yes, unfortunately, not always a good option. Staying is boring, sooo boring.
we all need to find a reason to live. mine was the run. now it’s the ride. I just wanna see where will I end-up tomorrow. no plans, no games no nothin’
ah, and love u too
U have 2 see this:
I was planning to… just dwnl it, will see it tommorrow. Thanks!