I miss the noise; the sound. I miss the police cars driving by, the ambulance, and the couple in the street fighting in the middle of the night. I miss blue students singing as loud as they can, at 4 am. I miss how the bus driving by made my whole studio shake. I miss my yellow studio, my échappatoire, my sanctuary.
I miss the hecticness; the fastness. I miss the trams and the smelly metro.
I miss the different kinds of people. I miss the open minded people. The exoticness, the craziness. I miss the crazy ones.
I miss the life of that city. The air. The smell.
I miss the past four years, the best ones so far.
I miss it all.