Notes on a Train


As I sit on a train, passing through Brussels and on my way to Amsterdam, I can’t help but have tears spring to my eyes as I think of how wonderful and beautiful and how much I love the world. How much I want to explore every inch, even the parts that scare me. When I woke up this morning, I was nervous, like I always am, when I’m traveling somewhere new. It’s a nervous excitement where I have to make sure all my paperwork is in order, my money, my clothes, my travel plans and my accent when I speak. Will they understand me in this new country? Will they laugh at me? Will they be accepting? As much as I traveled for the past seven years, ever since I got on the plane the first time I went to Paris when I was 18, I’ve learned that most people are accepting and want to learn your story, your culture, your experiences. Although I’m one of those people that screams “ugh, I hate people!” when a minor inconvenience happens, it’s not true. In all reality, I love people. I love laughing with strangers, and hearing their anecdotes, and learning new curse words in different languages “putain!” It’s exciting and wonderful and everything the world should be.*

*Notes found in my iPhone


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