I love lone traveling because you can be anyone and no one at the same time. Anonymity is a beautiful but lonely state of being. Your past is irrelevant, your future is tenuous. You live on the edge, not knowing what the future holds, feeling anxious and exhilarated at the same time. Because there are days when you feel absolute joy at the place you are at - it is new, exotic and beautiful and everything is a new discovery, you are an anthropological wanderer propelled from the bounds of the cozy monotony of your comfort zone. And then there are days when you feel so isolated and lonely you would hug the nearest person just for some human contact. You stare at lovers and friends with spiteful envy. There are days when everything goes to plan - as if it was destined and you’re on a serendipitous journey, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be at that point in time in your complicated life. Then there are days when nothing goes to plan. Absolutely nothing. And your chest feels tight and you try not to break down and scare everyone by screaming at the top of your lungs that it’s not fair, this shouldn’t be happening to you. Stress invades every point in your body like a virus. It takes all your willpower to gather any delicate shred of sanity that you have and maintain a demeanour that doesn’t show exactly how broken you feel and how shamefully disintegrated your hopes are.
It is this roller coaster of emotions and experiences that I live for.
Because why be human if you can’t experience the plethora of emotions that make you feel alive.
