No Title

 It's been some time since I wrote something here, and now here I am. Writing while waiting for my departure. So much like life itself. Limbo. Somewhere in between. 

Traveling is not changing much in the time of pandemics. It still feels a bit sad, a bit lonely. But the promise of a new place, new scenery creates hope in us to endure hours of discomfort in the travel. 

I want to read Pico Iyer again. To feel the eeriness. I don't know what traveling means to me since sometimes it makes me feel sad. I love home more than anything but I got bored so easily at home, so I travel from time to time.