Osmond Wu

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Seated on the edge of the Copenhagen canals, legs dangling, I unwrapped my gyro and soaked in the cityscape. The air was crisp, the sky deep blue, and the breeze gentle. On a whim, I played Frank Ocean's "Moon River," and the melody immediately immersed me in a cinematic reverie. I became an actor in an unwritten film, the city bustling around me as I sat frozen in awe. In this strange capsule of time, reality seemed sharper, each moment etched with precision. My senses didn't just observe; they absorbed the city's essence—its breath, its pulse, its rhythm.

It was like watching a series of vignettes unfold before me: a child's tiny hand clutching their dad’s finger; friends bantering over some brewskis; and a dog posing majestically on the bow of a boat as if he was Jack on the Titanic.

Suddenly, a wave of overwhelming gratitude swept over me, and tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. This emotion was a stranger to my usual feelings of gratitude. It was deeper, primal, and utterly overwhelming. I was struck by a deep sense of thanks for simply being alive. I felt so lucky to have health, to love, and to be whole. I felt so happy with the man I have become. Never have I felt so alive.

Each day, Copenhagen reveals more of its intricate personality. More than just a destination, it's a living narrative, a Danish storybook filled with subtle Easter eggs that beckon the curious and the attentive. It's not about the sights; it's about the stories woven between the cobblestone paths. As I wander its interwoven streets, I am constantly amazed by the intentional Hygge design—bringing comfort, utility, warmth, and a minimalist ambiance to the city. This city doesn’t just display beauty—it immerses you in it, making every corner and every moment a personal discovery. Copenhagen demands your attention and effort, and in return, you get a truly magical experience.

This scene was ethereal. It felt too good to be true. This made me wonder—what if we could always feel this way? How do I feel this way again? I need to find out. I’m scared by the fear of losing this vivid connection to this moment of pure presence and self-revelation.

The best way I can describe this feeling is absolute presence, free from any desire. This was genuinely a surreal moment. I laughed and cried, overwhelmed by happiness and fortune. I was happy to simply be myself. Yes, I have my worries that gnaw at the back of my conscience, but at that moment, there was a reassuring touch on my shoulder whispering, "It’s okay.”

written in Copenhagen, Denmark; finished in Majorca, Spain

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A Danish Fairytale