I always wanted to get out from my childhood place, and I did. Then I wanted to travel anywhere away, and I did. Then I wanted to travel over oceans through clouds and suns, and I did.
Nowhere I felt fulfilled and serene till I traveled inside. The world called the inner me was the farthest to reach as the distance is not measured with meters and miles, it is measured with time and conscious. I needed light years to get there. And although I prefer to remain inside but I don’t have the leisure to crawl to my folded universe all the time. How can a place be so near and yet so far? How can a place that is one layer of skin away and yet so hard to reach? How come it sometimes disappears as if it was just a dream, and sometimes it is so present behind my eyes?
How come I can’t be all the time in my favorite place?