Sahara Desert Sky, Morocco

There are some places in the world that have seen so much that our presence there makes the world seem so big and so old that it is a difficult feeling to share.

That was the Sahara Desert for me, being able to be in a place that has had so many story cycles, that being in one, however small, made me feel big, in a small way.

I stayed there for about a month, where my routine consisted of waking up, eating, working, and going to drink at night with the locals. One of the nights I left them talking in a dune and went for a walk alone. I wanted some quiet time for myself.

Lost in my thoughts it took me a while to realize that I was also physically lost. And then a thing hit my stomach, I started to think about what my mother would be like if I couldn’t find myself, I started to miss home so much that I couldn’t do anything but sit and cry

And in behind all those tears, I saw the moon. But I saw it, not only looked, I saw the moon

And the thought of returning home started to seem like cowardice.
And then, I realized, for real: I am traveling alone around the world, living a dream I have had since my mother read the little prince to me, when I was the age of a child. And that I was there, sitting on the top of a dune. In the middle of the night. In the most beautiful moonlight, I had ever seen. In the Sahara Desert.

It is, at the same time, frightening and liberating to realize that there is no other place in the world that I would rather be than lost there.

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