Walking down the streets of Florence for one of the last times until I go home on Saturday. As I’m walking down the street I hear someone playing the cello from their window. I let the music sink into my veins as I just stare at the scenery around me. My nose gets hooked on a sharp smell, I look to the right and see a cobbler fixing and polishing a beautiful pair of leather shoes. Leather is so luxurious.
I continue walking as I gaze up into the sky, observing how small I feel trapped between two long walls of incredibly tall buildings. I see a dream catcher in one of the third story windows. I slowed down to see its detail… when suddenly, a shirtless old man the next window over was making kissy noises at me, looking down at me, whistling my way as I was obviously trying to ignore him.
So I said fuck that and walked as fast as I could until I reached my apartment.
America, I will be back in 2 days.
I keep telling myself that when I go home I’ll go running everyday and eat super healthy. But who the fuck am I kidding? I’m going to indulge in lots of booze and Christmas cookies.
I wish I had read this sooner.
I need to find some new books to read. Maybe it will help straighten out my weird thoughts, or make them even more weird.