Some days, I wish I could just sink into your wild beauty and solitude again. Inside your mountains, I came to know how truly little I mean in the great scheme of things, and the knowledge of my insignificance was the most intensely liberating sensation I had ever known. I could feel the ebb and flow of the world staring down at me from the rim of those mountains, and I was so small in comparison. I knew that without me, you would go on into infinity.
The irony is, of course, that back in America, this city of millions also makes me feel insignificant, but in the most suffocating way possible.