I don’t know, some experiences can’t be captured in words. Mere letters have nothing on these illusive and vibrant moments in time.
Can’t even touch them.
The colours are suddenly brighter and you are absorbed with the richness of being. Your ears are ringing with the sounds around you. You sit there, with five cameras and a long career as a writer in your backpack, and yet you know.
Yet you know.
That the taste of a cold Bintang, accompanied by the smell of incense and the colours of a Bali sunset can’t be captured in words or images.
Nor should it be.
It’s a rare bird, not yet burdened by the weight of descriptive words.
It’s the first cold sip of Bintang a very warm afternoon in Bali.
Maybe you know what I mean.
Reliving the experience.
I just had.
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