flâneur

The freedom, it tethers you only to home

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I am no hedonist, I swear by my obligations. I keep my promises, my knots tied tight. And yet, the plunge into adulthood brings an oath to oneself, a promise to run into the wind, all your potential bundled tight in your arms, a burden to race with. The days and weeks and months go by, and before you know it, the late nights at the office have blurred together and the hands wring awkward carpal tunnel, the modern man's embarrassing handicap. The shoulder curls forward towards just one more night. And yet! Twenty-five running people descend into a group chat and pop up into YVR. Duffel bags and carry-ons and totes sandwich together, air mattresses line the floors of every room. For a quick moment in time, youth renews itself in a trampoline bounce. Put up the tent and chase the goose, your oath is to a younger self, one that tells jokes and scary stories late at night and can't sleep, one that peels the potatoes and plays basketball, shameless, waiting for the cumulus clouds to dot blue

← back to notes I am no hedonist, I swear by my obligations. I keep my promises, my knots tied tight. And yet, the plunge into adulthood brings an oath to oneself, a promise to run into the wind, all your potential bundled tight in your arms, a burden to race with. The days and weeks and months go by, and before you know it, the late nights at the office have blurred together and the hands wring awkward carpal tunnel, the modern man's embarrassing handicap. The shoulder curls forward towards just one more night. And yet! Twenty-five running people descend into a group chat and pop up into…

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