One of my most common activities here, during never-ending hours without light and internet connection is reflecting, sometimes trivially, other (supposedly) deeply. I think about distance, from the people I love, from my routines, from what I consider my home. In bad moments I would like to teleport to the other side of the ocean, hug my beloved, and then come back here, charged for a new day. However, I am gradually auto-convincing, maybe moved by a primitive surviving instinct, I like to taste the sweet and sour feeling of waiting and live entirely my new life. In good moments, I believe that teleportation would make the journey an empty experience indeed. ‘Radio Cure’ by Wilco is better than any other word.