My love wants to have her fortune read, and I know that she´s in a hurry.

Today I had a glorious day in Buenos Aires.
I went to this quaint little flea market in the French square.
It was all wonderfully bohemian with tons of hippie-esque knick-knacks.
Literally everything I saw was something that easily could've been sported by Anita Pallenberg in Performance.
After lusting after every little piece of merchandise, I walked by this crowd of gorgeous shirtless men and gypsy-like women who were walking across a tightrope and trapezing in the trees. A group of rowdy (and very drunk) musicians weren't far behind them. To the left of the circus crowd were stoners sitting in a circle passing around one of the gorgeously painted pipes that I saw for sale.
It was all so carefree and something that I had only pictured from lyrics of songs.
Once we get our apartment in Buenos Aires, my sister and I agreed that we would visit the flea market every weekend. Luckily, its all very nearby.
When we drove away from the flea market, I had mixed emotions. I was happy that I had found similar souls in a country I had just about become disenchanted with. But I was also sad. Sad because even though I felt a kinship with them, I still couldn't communicate with them.
Though, it is thrilling to consider that there are probably many bohemian meccas throughout the world. I cannot wait to see them all.