Is there anything you haven’t told anyone yet, that you’d like to share with me? She asks with glimmering eyes, although he can’t see their glow. I love that you ask that. I have been thinking about the same thing a few minutes ago. Tell me. Well… I still haven’t…

How have you been? He asks, although he’s not sure if he really wants to know. The inevitable answer follows. Good. 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. He waits…

Life has been very intense lately. He shares as she lies down on the grass wrapped in a blanket. Tell me about it. He tastes an infusion in his big blue cup. I have opened myself up to a possibility that possibilities are infinite and one by one, all my…

He sits inside a tree, waiting. Well, a part of him is waiting. There’s also the other part, the one that just sang to the Ocean after a wholehearted dance. The part that is present and alive. But he can’t help but to wait. And he doesn’t like waiting. …

He sits on a rock, alone this time, looking at the Ocean. The wind caresses his face. The waves soothe his mind. Yet, he’s not at peace. - What am I feeling? — He asks himself out loud. And the answer comes. - It’s me. — Says Fear softly, finally surfacing…

(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…

(Note: I wrote this scene while listening to Path 5 by Max Richter (Youtube | Spotify). It flows beautifully with it in the background.) (She’s squatting on the floor, right outside of her door. He’s standing next to her.) She: How were your last few days? (He takes a breath.) …

(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.) He: To…

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…