No I don't want to zoom I want to look at the moon

No I don't want to zoom I want to look at the moon

pic by @ClemensWilhelm in Berlin Neukölln.
pic by @ClemensWilhelm in Berlin Neukölln.

pic by Clemens Wilhelm in Berlin Neukölln

I miss FOMO. I miss opting out. I miss lipstick. Not on me, on you. I miss Aperols and Margaritas and impromptu picnics on the grass and babies running around and touching stuff. Dirty Fingernails. Licking chocolate off the floor. Not me, the kids. I miss talking to other parents on the playground. I miss hugging. I miss the quick side hug, I miss the full-frontal bear hug, the friendly hug, the lingering hug, the Hollywood hug, the mom hug, I miss my mom's hug. I miss necking, cupping, spooning… I miss handrails. And pushing buttons with my fingers. I miss picking up my kid from school and watch him play with his friends. I miss curated content. I miss biking around to art shows, I miss the moment you walk into an art show and you still kind of expect something? I miss pretending to be about to touch art in museums. I miss sharing popcorn ( trick question I do not share pop corn). I miss sitting on the grass in an open-air screening. I miss my friends. I miss restaurants! And looking at people sitting at restaurants. I miss plans. I miss spontaneous plans, I miss long-standing plans, I miss cancelling plans. I miss makeup. I miss wearing makeup. I miss eyeliner and Gd knows I need it. I miss suits in men. I miss not knowing how everyone lives, not seeing everyone's kitchens, I miss comedy shows, with tiny chairs, way too close and comedians with mikes, on stage. I miss going to the supermarket for one thing. I miss going to the supermarket just because. I miss chocolate. I miss Feta. And Mozarella. I miss Trader's Joe. I miss thinking this is going to be a great year. Tough, but meaningful. I miss not knowing how fucked up most things are. I miss hoping they would get better. I miss home, wherever that is. I miss loud music. I miss sitting at the bar my leg touching yours. I miss saying excuse me when I have already touched you. I miss sweat. Not on me, on you. I miss the smell of sun and sea and sand on my hair. I miss sharing food. Siting close. Petting dogs.

I miss deciding to stay at home.