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He’d stayed in the Maldives for some time, long enough to check off each fact on the Wikipedia page and collect enough tourist snapshots of his own, but he was gone again before he could experience monsoon season in full. Too many expats, and besides, he hated the feeling of the thin moisture barrier that formed on his skin after too long in the tropical sun or how it made cotton bunch and wrinkle as he moved.
He tried farther north. Then south. Remote, geographically or culturally or technologically, it didn’t matter. It rarely does.
In a numbered flat where his neighbors think he’s a computer programmer, there’s a knock on his door. Clearing the flour from his hands with a wet towel, he checks the peephole, and sighs. After a minute, he undoes the chain and the bolt, and twists the knob, revealing a woman.
“You’re trying too hard.” She says, brushing past him into his living space.
self care is actually getting in fights with randoms in dark alleys
self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you. self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists. self care is the fear in your enemies eyes
Rainy Nights in NYC
The city that never sleeps also does not stop because of a little rain and its captured in all its vibrancy by Bernhard Hartmann.