time travel//time warp
Traveling and vacation is like a time warp. Everything is perfect and well managed and packed in and you get a new kind of writing done and see all kinds of people and doors and skies and rocks and trees. You eat food you become accustomed to, so much so, that when you get back home you forget how to eat what’s there. The terrain is different; the air smells different. The voices and dialects are not as beautiful (when you come back home), everyone sounds nasally and boring and like their complaining. And I’m high and mighty because I understand something about the world, another thing about the world, that most don’t; and then I hate them all. All the ignorant-trash-talking-cellphone-screaming-on-bimbos. And really they’re all probably perfectly nice and charming. But I don’t care, because they’re from here and I want to be with people that aren’t from here in their land, so that I’m the one not from there.