When traveling alone, some things that I might not notice otherwise, push themself to the front of the row to get attention. In this case, the loudest voices that somehow manage to share very little useful information. Empty words that fill the already buzzing city air. Somehow, it looks like a roleplay or a theater with lorem ipsum text replacements. People storm to a location, get in line for a selfie but without taking the time to actually look at the object or building that will show up in the background of the (Instagram) stories that they unfold.

I sit on a bench in the sun and watch.
People come. People go. As floppy spaghetti strings that stick to a wall for a second *cheese* and then drop into a pile.

I feel like an alien trying to unravel the secrets of non-communication and wonder if this is an American thing that has a function that I can’t grasp? It’s not just loud fellow tourists in sweatpants and running shoes, but I’ve noticed the same blah-blah-pattern when following courses or podcasts, leaving me allergic to expressions as ‘the nitty-gritty’, ‘revealing the secrets of’, ‘real talk’, and many more that promise in-depth information and real analysis but that barely scrapes the surface of the subjects they talk about.

More and more, I return to books. Paper books that I read with a pencil by my side to underline not only interesting thoughts but sometimes even the beautiful or original words.

Perhaps there should be a museum of beautiful words and remarkable expressions. With extra celebrations for neologisms and word-magicians! It could be a maze of choice between destructive expressions and poetry, imagination or love letters. In my mind, this place is already taking shape so perhaps, next time when I hear fifty times ‘like’ in a sentence, I dress up like a unicorn and run through The Museum of Beautiful Words and Remarkable Expressions. You’re welcome too, just leave the likes as the door.