Wanderlust part ii.

Last week, I saw an entire city rise into the sky. One minute it wasn't there, and the next minute, it was. And me? I felt like God -- yeah, yeah, blaspheme, I know -- but I felt like God, like first there was nothing and I said, "Let there be everything," and there it was.


Poetry about that place basically writes itself.


And I didn't miss you, and I didn't want to come home, but I forgot how much I like it here. The times I like home the best are when I've been somewhere very different for a very long time.


I dare you.
All my love,
Addy