Emily Barker & The Red Clay Halo, Nostalgia

I think we are in so many ways, such maleable creatures. As context changes, we move along, improvising around new environments, deconstructing flavours, trying to make them relatable (or hopefully not) to things we already know.

I wish I never loose wonder. One thing that has not changed since I made my first trip here, is the fact I still embrace travels with such a sense of excitement. To be honest, I do desire that giddiness never goes away, or gets to be a hassle, or have a terrible attitude towards a new or a known place.

So far nostalgia hasn't presented itself poignantly. It has been a silent observer but not too intruding, it has remained far enough to cause any damage to these fresh visions in my life. 

Prague is hard though, mainly because I can still see myself walking through these magnificent streets when I was 18, getting lost then trying to explain (in English, Spanish or Italian) a bus driver how to get "in" the map again, a young boy stealing a kiss from my lips as my friend took a picture of us in the Old Town or just jumping out of Tomash Rigl's windows, whose house front door was locked and we couldn't find any other way out.

Yet, I still don't have a feeling of loss. Nor, the idea I would do anything different if I were given a second chance.

I feel privileged. I am here, once again. Like a wave hitting on different spots over the same shores, renewed by the force of deep, wiser waters, bathed by the sun and lulled by the sound that comes from the rustling autumn leaves of the trees. Where will I be next? Reality is such an analytic fantasy, it merely resides on our own perception seeking security around the things we think we know. Familiar can be a harmful term in terms of embracing change.