Walking through the streets tonight, dark but lights everywhere, cool, a breeze, the noises of indistinct music and cars carrying people places and other people talking on their cell phones, the leaves on the trees discreetly rustling; walking through the streets tonight on my way to have a drink with someone I’ve never met before, it’s hard not to feel something. I wouldn’t call it happiness exactly, and I wouldn’t call it depression–it’s just a feeling. An awareness of moving through space, of going somewhere different from where I am now. I’m going to a place with people there and noise and alcohol. And I’ll talk to someone, maybe, they’ll notice me, they’ll make some comment about the shirt I’m wearing. And then, after some time has passed, and after something has happened or nothing has happened, I will once again walk through the streets. And there will be the same sounds, the same activities, and I’ll return to the apartment where I am now. Maybe that journey back here is the whole point for making the first journey. I leave this place so that I can have the feeling of returning.