“As much as I want to be in the present – as much as I want to appreciate the fleeting moments I have – I’m frequently elsewhere. I’m in my scooter riding the chaotic, dusty streets of Kathmandu, dodging other bikes, cars, cows, carts, bicycles, old men, goats, buses and children. I’m in my apartment in Patan, lying in bed with my love wrapped in my arms. I’m on a hillside on the edges of a valley, catching a glimpse of the Himalayas. I’m talking to shopkeeper about their village, and receiving invitations to dine with a family I just met. I’m sipping sweet milk tea, listening to the cacophony of horns and watching the dark plumes of exhaust around me. I’m wishing I was far away. I’m wondering why I’m really here. My memories are more alluring than the experiences they once were.”
If this were a story, would you want to read more?