The power of traveling

This is your reality:
faces, names, shared language
among those existing in it.

You live the pattern:
nine to six being productive,
let's brunch next weekend,
let's catch up during the coffee break.

Then you start seeing it:
hidden near the borders,
between seven and eight pm,
radio interference on your way back home,
whispering: "wake up, wake up,
come and find what life is really made up of".

You follow the voice to places
where working from home means nothing,
where productivity is no more than twelve letters,
where new languages are invented in silence.

A place existing between the tic and the toc,
where silence gives birth to strings of color
like those in Van Gogh's skies.
Hurry up and see it before the last toc closes the loop.
You are late and it's now gone.

You cannot un-see it now,
this new reality you had forgotten of,
infiltrating each minute of your day,
making you wonder, if that is the place you ought to be.

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