I love how empty the streets are at 6 in the morning. I like to imagine I’m the only person in the world; that whatever I do, there’s no one to stop me.
I’d lie on the ground and feel alive. You know, like they do in the movies.
And then a car would come. But it would stop centimetres away from me. No, it won’t be the car stopping, it would be time itself. And it won’t start again until I’m ready. Time will wait for me.
Until I’m ready. I don’t ever want to be. Motion frightens me. Standing still is comforting.
In 6 in the morning, I’m the only one moving. But with every step it feels like the streets, the houses, the road is moving. Not me. I’m the one standing still now. My mind is passing so quick, my feet can’t keep up. And my body is wandering, gliding through the pavement.
A man I respect and look up to, Jeremy Clarkson, said that standing still is what kills us in the end. Then why are so many people motionless? Don’t they know where to go? Or do they simply not care? Destination may not be more important than the journey itself, but wouldn’t it be better to have at least the slightest idea of where you’re going?
I want to travel the world. I want to live everywhere. And nowhere. But for now, this is my destination. Here. Now. This empty street. And the time that stopped just for me. It’s 6 in the morning and I’m standing still. Give me just a minute and I’ll walk again.
M. Stefanova, 2013