
What most amazes me about traveling is the sense of shock it creates against the everyday routine.
If you stay shorts amount of time in numerous places for an extended period your mind doesn't have enough time to feel comfortable and to create habits. You are forced to pay attention. You realize then the transient nature of life through your eyes and your ears.
The smell of pigeon excrement, the taste of sweet mint tea and the call from nearby minarets mingle into a confusion of experiences that you consume like water to cure your thirst for life.
But now, I question whether it really happened. Did I really go to those far away places? Once I return home to my bed, my friends and family, the world is familiar again.
And again, I find myself reliving old days from beginning to end. I awaken exhausted from the day I haven't yet lived from playing it out in my head.
My mind walks past freedom as if it were a stranger.
But why can't I talk to strangers? Why am I so afraid of them?