I hate the fact that we’ve divided ourselves, we’ve marked lines, lines that we call borders, these borders that have boundaries, boundaries that we can’t cross. I hate the fact that despite the earth being round, we can’t be found and I hate that the world isn’t one big country with no roamings, no passport or visas required. I hate the feeling of being far far away from you.
Why am I called a Tourist? Why are people labelled as Refugees? I find no answers to these, I have no good stories to please and I can’t be at ease. I have secrets to share, some letters to tear and I also fear, what if I don’t meet you again, what if I get lost making a living? The internet, the smartphones, tablets and computers can’t replace the moments and memories I live, I want to live in the present with everything to give.
The countries that you go to, the places that you visit, the cities that you live in are all far away from me. I sometimes wonder and out of desperation I make plans, plans that are bound to fail. I look at the maps and I calculate miles, I look at my passport and I smile, I smile at my foolishness. The people in your city won’t understand, it’s all crammed, the city you live in has confusing lanes and I can’t even pronounce those city names.