“...the solitude was intoxicating. On my first night there I lay on my back on the sticky carpet for hours, in the murky orange pool of city glow coming through the window, smelling heady curry spices spiraling across the corridor and listening to two guys outside yelling at each other in Russian and someone practicing stormy flamboyant violin somewhere, and slowly realizing that there was not a single person in the world who could see me or ask me what I was doing or tell me to do anything else, and I felt as if at any moment the bedsit might detach itself from the buildings like a luminous soap bubble and drift off into the night, bobbing gently above the rooftops and the river and the stars.” ― Tana French, In the Woods
i love salt lake city.
my sister hannah is renting a little house with a little garden
in the marmalade district
for the summer
so i'm pretending i live here, too.
oh, the city!
being here makes me feel like a fog has lifted.
like my soul was cleaned off and i can breathe again
or like i'm BACK
i belong in a city
in a little house with a little garden.
the suburbs swallow me.
this is where i need to be.
i need to be riding bikes and walking everywhere.
i need to be having small conversations with strangers passing by
and i need to fall asleep to the sounds of traffic and the neighbor's loud music.
i told adam we could consider it a medical expense
since my mental health greatly improves whenever i'm in a city
and on a bike
buying flowers from a street vendor,
donating my last dollar to vagrants,
and smelling factory smoke on one block and vietnamese food on the next.
if adam had a respiratory issue and we needed to live somewhere with cleaner air,
we totally would, right?
it's a sound argument.
this little house with its little garden
and its little charms
and this little city...
how can i ever, ever leave it?
why would i ever head back into the fog???
(unless it's in portland or seattle of course... citylife!!!)