This city is chaotic. Warm, lively, dynamics. Shades pf yellow and orange. Yet very crowded. There is the love for life. To exist and breathe. It inspires.
Baku is the love of my life, still. Once again not replaced by sunny Rome. I don't miss the city. Some aspects maybe. Nor my parents, or friends. But him. It feels surreal, away. It is so entangled with my mind, almost automatically reflected in me. Touch starved. Aching to feel warmth. That is how I am.
There is the sense of familiarity as I walk down the streets. Yet it is somehow empty.
