To home, or rome. Part 1.

"Thats when i heard murder! You killin me , you fillin me with sorrow! sunrise goodbyes and missing you tomorrows"

Sometimes. All the time. When i watch the travel channel i get really moody. I want to travel so bad. I need to travel so bad. Not because i want to get out of here. (that's a lie some days) But because i am in dire need of story(s). Peoples and buildings. But not like how a hipster appreciates people and buildings, cuz he doesn't. Ill be damned if i am anthony bourdaining (proper noun as a verb BAM) with a rapist mustache and over sized glasses. No way jose. I want to walk the market alley streets of japan. I want to sleep in a gondala. And i want to float right into a metropolis. I want to jump roof top to roof top and raid huts. Vandalize whole islands. I guess its normal. every teen must dream of flight. Its mandatory.

things i must see:

cobble stone streets.
cobble stone
a bench in the middle of these streets
A chocolate boutique shop (old school style)
A pie shop (old town style)
Wind mills.
real paper lantern festivals.
real hip hop.
A real italian pizza maker or butcher with a handle bar mustache
alley cats
A masquerade
a Comedia
street food in plastic bags
sand dunes
paper lantern festivals.

Since i was a kid there's something about paper lanterns that i am obsessed with a little (lets reserve this thought for a later blog)

"and thus he traveled very far, very far, over land and sea"
comewithme?

oneday.