Writing with a stolen pen thinking with borrowed thoughts in a lended land.
Not my own but mine, me in it, i share the space . . .
Does location really matter?
joy ride to the city to spend sunday funday by myself amidst strangers. But even in this short few hours of borrowed city-living, I feel transformed. Just 15 minutes away the air is transformed into colorful bouquets of people. So different. Pushing, changing, immersing and emerging. Forget to bring that in it gets mixed--gray-brown-in my attempt to preach something I don't practice at this time.
Location influences the psyche. It's the people in the location. The people influence-the contact improvisation of culture-the rubbing up against strangers. It does something. Space makes me lazy and diffused.
I'm getting lost in this conglomerate inundation. Here, you have to be yourself. It's fast, you make decisions faster. I am influneced by the environment and in a good way. Wormhole café. The hipster heaven. jk, I don't even know what that means.
