i’m about to lose myself. in 99 sleeps, to be precise [but hey, who’s counting?]
i’m about to let go of everything i know, and dive – heart first – into a sea of newness, freshness, firsts. every day will smell and feel different to the last, every day will be like the best sunday there ever was.
it will be courage that makes me want to come back and leave the adventure behind.
travel is the pump of my life. it forces me to take risks, push my limits, find myself, trust myself. i’m ready to feel it all again, and more. to know that everything will work out as it should – because it is how it is. to know that life has an incredible way of presenting you with a million paths – all right, all possible. all exciting.
i’ll lose myself to the feeling of the gravel beneath my feet in budapest; the smell of the air at dusk in bordeaux; the sound of the water beating at the boats in venice. london. paris. rome. frankfurt. and everything in between.
i can imagine it, i dream about it, i feel the incredible rush of the aloneness. from the first sunrise to the last sunset. it will be mine.