måndag, april 18, 2011

De vacaciones

I can barely sit still. Everything in me and around me seems to be moving with a sense of purpose that leaves a tingeling sensation in my skin, seeping into my veins and running through me to the tip of my fingers. And all I can think of is: in 26 hour in 25 hour in 24 hours... I've become the countdown.

I'm breathing warmth and sunshine already and I won't miss a thing, not a single thing. I'm walking down heated streets, dreaming living feeling the city sound, the summer sun, the far-off-ness from my life.

I'm never so much in love as when I'm travelling.

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