Looking back through an old journal entry, this especially jumped out today…
It feels strange to be at a cafe in midtown when everything around me reminds me of Dhaka. This past summer felt as hot as summers I remember living in Bangladesh. There’s a sense of heavy rainfall, much like during monsoon; I’m somewhere that could very well be a North End; the three other patrons got their order to go and stopped to smoke before they left, something to happen every 5min in Dhaka. This could easily have been my same reality back there :)
