Category: Travel
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one city at a time
They asked her why she was so good at marathons they didn’t know she called it running away they asked her how she trained her endurance she only smiled and laughed a little how could she not be good at it if most of her life was spent with gritted teeth and clenched fists sleeping soundly through nightmares and waking up with tears they asked her why she loved the sport they didn’t know it was the only thing she ever did
(This isn’t about marathons)
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A postcard from Armenia, March 2025. Overlooking the biblical Mountains of Ararat, where Noah’s Ark rested.
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What’s on a Solivagant Single Rider’s Mind
“And not everyone will get it, not everyone will understand. That’s alright, no biggie. But the world really is so much bigger than the city you grew up in. The world really is so much more than your day job and numbers on a screen. And one day you’ll learn to believe it, too. Even if it means believing it at the ripe age of twenty-eight, or thirty-two, or fifty-five. Doesn’t matter. It’ll make sense someday and it will set your adventurous souls ablaze. On fire. Maybe you’ll still have time, maybe it won’t be too late. Or maybe you’ll be content in not ever seeing the world outside your box. I need to accept that life works differently for most people. Whatever works for you.”
seasalt memoirs 