Sometimes we can only wonder where have we already been without leaving
I walk downtown sometimes. There are always tourists there - whether it is raining or the sun is shining warmly, there are always some foreign people wandering around, taking pictures of the river, the square with the riding king, the arcades, the imposing arch, the geometrically designed streets. Sometimes I wonder if I'm accidentally caught on the picture as I walk by, unaware of the flash. Who knows where I have already been? Maybe my not-so-random walks downtown are an unintentional part of some stranger's photo album, somewhere in the world, passing as a shadow between the smiling faces and the monuments of old. It's a funny thought, to wonder where might I have been already, without never truly leaving.