"Things are different, because people are different. What I see is not the same to what you see. People's perception, their recognition and interpretation, is unique. A single leaf dropping to the ground and it falls forever. For the wind keeps catching it, telling it little stories from far away. But, for some people it's nothing more than a single leaf dropping."
Today, on my way to work, I opened an old digital note on my phone. The date in the top right corner said 12.10.2011. That's three hundred and fifty-nine days ago. Funny thing is, I remember writing it, and it doesn't feel like almost a year ago. I was on the bus, sitting in an elevated window seat in the rear left. I was passing Oxford Street on the ten to Hammersmith.
This morning I was on another bus, typing this. It was the one fourty-five to Sinsa-dong. This ride is part of my daily routine now. And I enjoy the idea, that only last year I was living on the other side of the world. I mean, I was there there. I had a room, a mobile phone and a bank account. Now, the next stop is my stop. Where will I be when I get off?
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