I want to run away to Barcelona, and never come back. I love the people and the language and the tapas and the wine.
There’s this hidden thai food place down an alley that has the best damn curry I think I’ve ever eaten.
There’s an old tattooed man who wanders the pier naked and happy. No one ever bothers him, because how can anyone deny an old man his joy?
I want to go back to the Gaudi buildings and see that beautiful garden again and experience a Picasso up close. I want to immerse myself in the culture that created giant tomato fights and beautiful art and architecture. I want a rocket salad and those little, delicious seafood pastries.
Basically, I guess I want to be an ex-pat, but that’s okay! Because it’s Spain.


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