Sitting on the balcony of my room in Barcelona while facing hanging laundry that’s been dry for days. Calmed from the celebrations of Pride. Boostive guided me home with my arms high up. The only gift that didn’t really leave me. It’s so special and somehow only few rare souls understand. “When you feel it” it’s so damn good.

Really though, I can’t wait to go back to my old journals. They’re barely documented but still they are a part of vague stories within my wild life. I allowed something to see it and by something I mean a piece of paper. As wronged as I was my creativity flowed. Yet, it was the strongest afterwards but now it breaks my heart to say that just weakened to a point I never thought was possible for me. I’m on the journey to find it again. So far, it’s been a long one. I mind, yet, almost don’t. I’m waiting for it to be over as a tear drops down my face and the sax takes over…