I often dream of my long walk to work. The sites, the cars, the motos. The floral pattern that covers all the concrete. I feel like i dream of this the most. The balconies above the stores and their coverings,with people hanging their laundry out of them. orange and red cloth for shade. peoples homes. The cafes and restaurants I would pass. The near memory of my continual search for the perfect chocolate croissant and cafe con leche. My walk to work, I always felt very alone. in a good way and a bad way. very independent. very solitary moments, but in those moments you could not deny the city. and that she was beautiful. alive. a living breathing thing. home.

other times i barely dream of it at all. I am dreaming a dream, that could happen in any place at any time yet, inside I know that I am in Barcelona.

I want to get lost there again. Breaks my heart that it would never be the same, at the same time, sometimes. I just miss the city self. and its overwhelming.