It’s time for Patagonia.

To leave the baristas at Lab

and the freelance work meet-ups in Palermo

and the coworking spaces in Villa Crespo and Palermo Hollywood

Where everyone is as important as their laptops, filtered coffee and smartphones

Including myself

The sun is shining and the sky clear blue

but the city is bland, grey and uninspiring

and manages to take a piece of my soul every time

People are coughing and sneezing

and I’m bored, bitter and dormant

and the only thing that can wake me up is the image of Río Mina and the cabin off ruta 40

I’ve tried killing it with nights out, walks, language exchanges, dates and shopping

But they’ve been temporary distractions

And I have had so many in my life I tell M

having had enough of us, me and him

I tell him that just before I cut him off

Tired of my own games, my own drama

Dragging myself through the mud in some kind of effort to fit in

How easy it was to entertain the idea of the lesser life


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