Moon River

I wanted to chase the light as it slipped beyond the horizon, to watch the sky melt into hues of fire and dusk, to stand in the quiet hush of twilight and feel the weight of the world soften. I wanted to witness the first light of dawn spilling over mountaintops, turning the earth gold, and to see the night bloom with a thousand scattered stars in places where the city’s glow couldn’t reach.

I wanted to know the way the wind carried whispers across the open plains, to hear the distant hum of waves folding into the shore, to feel the rhythm of the earth beneath my feet as I wandered through forests thick with the scent of rain and pine. I longed to walk roads that stretched into the unknown, paths carved by time and stories, places where silence spoke louder than words.

I wanted to have landscapes to lose myself in, endless deserts where the sand shifted like liquid gold, cliffs where the sea crashed wild and untamed, fields of flowers swaying under skies that stretched forever. I wanted cities to disappear into, where the streets pulsed with life and every corner held a secret waiting to be found, where I could be anyone or no one at all. I wanted to stand in the middle of a bustling market, surrounded by voices in languages I didn’t yet understand, or sit in the quiet of an old bookstore, tracing the faded ink of stories written long before me.

I wanted to wake up somewhere unfamiliar, where the air tasted different and the mornings carried the scent of unknown spices, where I could step out into streets that were still foreign to me and feel the quiet thrill of discovering something new. I wanted to sip coffee in a tucked-away café, watching life unfold in a city that didn’t know my name.

I wanted to dive into oceans so clear they blurred the line between sky and water, to swim beneath waterfalls hidden deep in the heart of the world, to feel the sun on my skin in places where winter never came. I wanted to climb mountains just to stand at the top and breathe air that felt untouched, to cross bridges that connected lands and lives, to sit by train windows and watch the world pass by in a blur of color and motion.

I wanted to learn the art of being still, of listening, of letting the world move around me without feeling the need to chase it. I wanted to feel music in my bones, to dance without restraint in streets where no one knew me, to watch fireworks light up foreign skies and let their echoes remind me that life was meant to be celebrated.

I wanted love that felt like freedom, friendships that spanned oceans, and stories that would outlive me. I wanted to collect moments like treasures, fragments of laughter, the hush of a city before dawn, the way a stranger’s kindness could make a place feel like home.

Most of all, I wanted to live unbound, to follow what called to me, to move without apology, to carve a life that was entirely my own. And somehow, despite the doubts, despite the voices that told me otherwise, I did.