I’d like a hole in my pocket

I would really like to move to another city. Even if only for a few years. A small town with a café, a library, a theater, a farmer’s market and a flower shop. With a book shop and an antiquarian bookstore, because my soul’s size can easily be measured in stacks of (old) books. And an ocean (or at least somewhere near one.)

No, I don’t want to start a new life per se. I don’t believe in that. And I do not mean that I don’t believe in change, or that I don’t believe in people who believe in change. I do believe in change myself. But I don’t believe that I could change so much so that it would be a new life.


I do my best to look at my city with tourist eyes. Yet, I would like to move to a new city. Where I would see so much. Where things, the buildings, the food, the culture would be different. Where I wouldn’t be able to, theoretically, walk down the streets with my eyes closed and still get home safely. Where I would be required to look up and around and think of where to go next.

Because this city I live in is like a perfect pocket which I know so well sometimes.

Yet all I want is a hole in my pocket. To be able to push my hand through. And to know that when I fix that hole, I will enjoy again the warmth and feeling of comfort only a fixed pocket can give me.


6 Comments to “I’d like a hole in my pocket”

  1. I often think the same thing! But sometimes I feel very trapped in where I am… :(

  2. Well, if a Great Lake would be a good substitute for an ocean you could move here to Michigan! :)

  3. This is a lovely post. It was like a poem. I read it twice it was so good. Move here….we have all those things, but not much else. Patsye

%d bloggers like this: