i want to travel across oceans and mountains. i want to experience the harshest of climates, from the bite of the himalayas to the humid intensity of the sahara. i want to speak to people in german, portuguese, french, spanish, italian. i want to write in russian and arabic and i want to pass people little notes with things like "vous êtes jolie!" or "sie sind sehr nett" written in my awful, ugly handwriting. i want to drive a car with the top down, or cling onto the back of a motorbike with my arms spread wide. i want to stuff my face with kulfi and vorschmack and baklava until i feel sick enough to puke. i want to stop this sham that i've called living.