Walking slowly through these streets and old buildings I do feel a sense of home. Even as these city people pass by quickly, their chatter busy and distracted, glancing at me briefly, I know that I’ll still have trouble relating or connecting with anyone here as I usually do. These are small matters, though. My memory centers around what I see and experience here. I glance at the buildings and scenery around me rather than worry about the people who fly on by without a care to where they are. I love the architecture here, the feeling of history all around, the stories these easily missed markings tell me, the feel of crumbling cement. I like to stand on the bridges here and watch everything move around me, the water below swirl and change color as the sun gives it fresh vitality.

A few days ago I watched the sun rise for the first time in 2 months.