Heyyy. I hope none of you have been trying to contact me. I'm not using my number currently. I've been in New York for about a week now and will only be back home around the 12th of August. So far everything has been a truly fantastic blast, everything I always thought it would be. The first few days were really nightmarishly horrible though, because it appeared that everybody knew everybody. I am the only one who came alone and is travelling alone. They frequently talk about the travel plans they intend to embark on after our contract ends. (Sometimes I feel a little left out and blatantly singular.)
They keep telling me how brave I am to be on my own. But we all know that I am not brave. Impulsive stupidity makes you do the most interestingly unpredictable things. But I would be lying if I said I regret my lack of logical judgement. Because I don't. I'm loving every moment here and the fact that I'm not prepared for anything. It forces me to do things I normally wouldn't do and it is challenging and rewarding. I'm making friends, and even though there are unpleasant things happening, everything is still such a wonderful, delectable surprise. Work might be from the boring hours of 9 to 5 but it is pure ecstatic fun. People here are so different too. I watch them and occasionally let slip a quiet smile of amusement. It's a refreshing eye-opener. I'm growing a lot, trying to save money, washing my own panties and scrounging for food. I think they call this "independence". Haha. I think I'm changing too, but in a manner I kind of like.
Right now I'm sitting in the dusty common kitchen of a motel. Rusty bronze pots and pans crash against each other and clang noisily, hastily thrown into the sink by careless fingers and left to pile up for the night. The dryers and washing machines groan from churning the weight of perspiration-soiled laundry. I am facing the mosquito-netted window, where the clouds give way to an unblinking sun that shines softly, unexpectedly, (but I can still feel it's glowing heat on my cheeks). And then there's the occasional chilly breeze that scatters the remnants of winter away. I'm sitting on a green sand-daubed plastic chair, typing on my laptop, listening to Death Cab For Cutie and drinking Starbuck's Mocha. I think I am happy. I feel so at ease. And fearless. It is not that I think that nothing will go wrong, but rather, there is such a strong irrepressible feeling inside my body that tells me firmly, "You can take anything that comes your way. Anything at all."
I think all I need is this. This sense of peace with, within myself. This, strangely simple contentment that empowers and emboldens me.
There is so much to do and see. So many pictures to take. So much to live for. So much to learn.
I hope I always keep my eyes this bright and this wide open.