He sits at the end of the world.
The Sun approaches the horizon and the strange scenery amplifies the feeling of being alone, yet connected with all.
He sinks into it.
The gulls dance in the wind, effortlessly suspended in the air. He glides with them, crossing the glowing sky…
How have you been?
He asks, although he’s not sure if he really wants to know. The inevitable answer follows.
And then there’s more.
Being here is rich and transformative. I’m meeting people who challenge me to find who I really am. My insecurities are surfacing constantly.
(As they cross over a highway, she notices that he stopped walking.)
- What are you looking at? (She asks.)
- Highways always had a special significance for me.
(He keeps looking at the constant flow of passing cars).
- I became the person who I am today because of…
(He sits down with his gaze fixed upwards. She looks at him from a distance and approaches slowly.)
She: What are you looking at?
(He keeps looking up.)
He: I’m waiting.
She: What for?
(Still looking, he relaxes back, supporting the weight of his body on his arms.)
Back in the days of the psychonautic adventures of my youth (🧙♂️), we’ve observed a particular kind of interaction: a brief exchange of smiles with a lonely stranger, sometime around 4am, often in the middle of what we used to call “transit zones”—vast urban spaces where you have absolutely no…