Desire

I have been wanting to write again for a long time, but I haven't had time. Nor have I had any ideas. Life is sweet sometimes. I am glad to be home. I love my apartment. 

California was an adventure. I had two interviews in one day. It was a very short trip. I got there on Sunday night and I flew back on Wednesday am. in a way, it was like a dream. My hotel was this lodge that look scary. Close to the highway. Close to a bar that opens in the morning. In front of a gas station. California has a flair. You breath cool over there. The mountains. The coffee shops. The restaurants and the architecture. It snows sometimes and you see the snow from far away. You never forget that. You never forget the place where you learned English. California means a lot to me. I was happy there. I was young and naive back then. I was more of an immigrant. I was more hopeful and not so tired. There are thousands of things I wasn't when I lived in California. And yet, I was so much. 

This time around I walked through the Santa Monica streets. I visited my favorite Ethiopian restaurant. I had tacos on the street while chatting with strangers. I felt tired. I looked for apartments. I missed. The hotel room was dark and impersonal. I watched some TV. The food network is always entertaining. Denmark sounds so appealing to me. All of a sudden. 

I chatted on the plain with a couple of people. I wonder if my unfriendliness has to do with being in Florida. 

And then I see you

Eyes that never sleep

Heart cannot sing