Just go.  

Lately, I felt like my therapy for all that’s going on in the world has been walking. Music plugged  into my ears. Every weekend, even if it’s snowing, raining, winding (I found out that there is a lot of  that in London) I’m out, for 5, 6, 7 hours a day, never stopping. My ambition is never to take the  bus but to see every spot, every street, every house, and every park in London. I feel like it’s a  great ambition, but I’m not going to lie. It takes time and a great pair of shoes.  I love it. Not because it makes me discover muscles that I never even expected before. Not  because of the feeling of pure fatigue when I come back and home and immerse myself into the  sofa. But because, it’s the only time where my mind can be completely free, and in those very  moments, when I completely lose myself (figuratively and literally), my imagination walks as much  as my legs, if not more.  

And for me, music is a highly important part of that process. There are no good sessions without  the right song. Aretha doesn’t tell you the things that Freddie will. And Freddie will not talk to you  the same way as he talks to me. The world can turn from bright and clear, to sepia, just thanks to  a song. The perfect song with the perfect neighborhood and you have the perfect fantasy.  

With the right playlist, you can go from inventing the most wonderfully odd world to interpret  quantic science. Who’s going to say otherwise? It’s your mind, your brain, your most precious  private property.  

Follow the trees and rest against squirrels. Talk to the Thames and listen to the statues. Invent  yourself as you’re inventing others. Who’s that man walking on the other side of the road? And  those two ladies sitting on that bench? Explore every way, a single corner of a dark street has so  many stories to tell. It is just waiting for you to stop and listen. 

The more I do it, the more I need it. It actually becomes a drug, I’m being physically addicted. 

Last week, I’ve spent 2 days in my flat, without going out. Had a lot of work, felt a bit tired, the  weather was crap, and oh, did I mention that we had a lot of work? So yeah, 2 days indoors, not  THAT bad. Believe me, I’ve done worst in the past. But suddenly, it took me by surprise. 11 am,  middle of the week, my brain just shouted at me: Go, NOW. And it was like I flew out of the flat, I  took my shoes, my phone, and my headphones and I ran outside, my coat barely on. I never felt  such an impulse before. And there I was, catching myself gasping for air next to my neighbor’s  front door. Real air filling my lungs. Wind attacking my cheeks. Rain dropping from my glasses.  I never felt more alive.