If the stamps were cut into paper silhouettes, the stories would still be there, but the shape would change the picture. You'd see the same map lines, but the edges would hint at a new story – like a ghost of a journey, a faint outline of a forgotten conversation, or the hidden rhythm of the places that made you who you are. It’s like turning a photo into a shadow: you lose detail but gain a new, mysterious silhouette that makes you wonder what else might lie underneath.

I love that image—like a paper cut pulling back the curtain on the secrets you left blank, and the ghost of every missed stop. It’s the kind of thing that makes me want to fill the gaps with a fresh passport stamp or a new story, even if I’m still chasing the next horizon.