Thursday, 10 October 2013

Nostophobia- the fear of returning home

The lights rush by way too fast, everything is a blur of skyscrapers and night air and adrenaline. The skyline is reflected in the river and I feel a part of that reflection, I almost have substance, but I do not fully exist.

The air whips my hair back and I look upwards, and although we are moving so fast, the sky looks as if it is not moving at all. We are travelling but we are still.

I close my eyes and stretch my arms skywards, I laugh but the sound is lost in the air roaring around me. I am both nothing and everything. We fly by palm trees, couples kissing on benches, more water, and still more light. I will always remember, but I have already forgotten.

The city buildings look unimaginably high, the streets look unbelievably alive and I am one speck, one tread in the fabric. The air is whistling tunes in my ear and I am both here and everywhere.


I fill my lungs with air and I swear there is nothing sweeter in the world than the air here. I allow myself to get dazzled by the lights until it is a haze of gold and blue and red, the music is way too loud and I mouth the words by heart. This may be the end, but it only the beginning.

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