chasing the unknown

December 21, 2017

My feet walked from light to dark, watching sun sets and sun rises, watching the skies over my head change at night. I stood on street corners looking at the chaos of this crazy place while staring into strangers eyes as they passed me by. Horns honking, sirens whining, subways rumbling, tires squealing, feet walking, heels clacking, people talking, dogs barking. It was the endless sound of humans roaming about and thousands of voices murmuring.

I spent my days on rooftops, sitting quietly, listening, feeling and breathing the hot summer air. The roaring of the city could be heard, lights turning on and off could be seen and the heartbeat of New York could be felt. Everything under me was moving, vibrating, reminding me of bees buzzing. Staring into the infinite view of buildings and the sun setting between city haze, left me dazzled and dazed. 


 With no fixed destination, no path and no plans, my body was restless and my feet were ready to wander. I walked unwalked streets, chased sunsets, drank beers as nights fell and lost track of time. I was like Ferdinand the bull, I just wanted to walk around and smell flowers and look at all the beautiful things my eyes could get a hold of. Like a child with curious fingers and eyes, watching things I had never seen before, wanting to touch everyone and everything. It was all so new, the noises, smells, tastes and feelings. It was the place to be for a restless person like me. My body has always been filled with a desire for new experiences, a lust for the unknown, a need for constant change to the point that it drives me crazy. Feeling at home in the most unpredictable moments makes me terrified of all that is constant. All my life I’ve been running, running away from something or running for more, for more than what any ordinary life could give me. I’ve been on that other road, on that high way at a hundred and twenty kilometers per hour chasing those moments that fill me with ecstasy. 


A worn out pair of shoes and a holy sweater, a coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other, a book to read and a journal to write in. That was all I needed, because I was being filled with moments that made me feel alive, made me feel like I was on a high. Moments like standing alone on a street corner a little lost, far from everything familiar. Like when watching the last glimpses of sun light hit the trees above you and the sky looking like it was on fire. Like when walking down a street listening to people shout and laugh while noisy traffic blasts and bright lights shine around them making everything look like a trashy night club. Like when dancing between hundreds of innocent young bodies to the sound of banging music. Like when waiting for the subway and a train races by you blowing your hair in every direction, and for that second, it might remind you of being somewhere else. Like when falling in love with the eyes of a stranger that passes you by knowing that you will never meet again. There were never ending beautiful moments that filled me with excitement. 



I came to New York with dreams and wishes but saw them being crushed right in front of my own eyes. I was confused and frustrated after running away from my previous home, searching for something new, searching for a new start. But for the very first time I didn’t feel the need to run, I wanted to walk the streets of New York. I felt unusually comfortable among the chaos of strangers. This place gave me an extremely youthful feeling that filled me with recklessness and fearlessness, I felt like dreaming bigger and living more passionately. Sometimes it takes losing everything you wished for to see the true meanings in life and to look at your own life from a new perspective. I left two months later with ten thousand new feelings, a shaved head, more confidence than ever and an understanding of myself and what is important to me in life. This city made my feet ache, made my heart beat a little faster and made my blood run thicker. 

















 All photos curtesy of Nelly Kolding.


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