I wandered far and about alone, as I went against the sea of human in many forms I couldn't help but feel exhilarated. It was the certainty of being at a place, being so finite and static, that made me genuinely happy. Was it the thick polluted air of this city that made me feel so oddly at home? People were oblivious of the weight of their existence as they carried on with their chosen routes, their eyes stagnant and dull. I was lost in the heart of this city. In the heart of this city I found myself momentarily fixated, the world turned still as I rocked to the lonesome blues this Puerto Rican man gently, gently played. Did he too, travel far and got wondrously lost? Has he too, lost his heart amidst this chaotic mess? He played the blues gently, gently like the sound of many heartaches, many unfulfilled love and many lost hopes. Like mine, lost in a rush of wind. Gone, gone in a gust of wind. I wandered far and about alone, and then I came back. Not any better, not any less. Do I blame it on my wild heart? Or do I blame it against the world? Here I am again, planning another quick escape. Like a coward, cowering under your shadows, packing my misery in a suitcase. Running far, far away from you.