I feel like I come here only when I meet my darkest demons and hit my more shadowed emotions, I hardly ever record the good, but I just want to feel like a whole instead of a half and just be. I want to feel beautiful.
I love city nights for the romance…
June 19th of last year was my last day in Virginia Beach. My apartment was near to bare and it was scorching outside. All of my memories were as thick and hazy as the day itself. I sat at my window at the beginning of it all. It was 5pm. The sun was melting away and the sky had the brilliance of sapphires. That’s it. It was done. As I closed the door with a few more bags and Ziggy in hand, I walked down one flight with fear and fight in mind. I had no idea what I was doing and what was about to happen. I’m actually still certain I still don’t know what happened.
I went into Back Bay to say goodbye to everyone and had my last conversation with my dear friend, Kelly. From there I went to pick up Lisa. Seven. Driving through southern Virginia to North Carolina…It was a beautiful, warm, fresh gust of wind. Good-Bye, Virginia. A sweet surrender. For a while, there was a quiet between us. Shocked, I think. As much as I ranted and dreamed of moving to California, we never were really prepared for that very moment when we were crammed into a truck with half my life packed into it and a giant dog. It was beautiful. It was 87 plus degrees before it began to shower, It lasted ten minutes. Then, the sun came out to sear the earth and the rainfall surrendered to the mighty sky once again and allowed the most vibrant rose colored warmth to kiss our skin. That was the moment it all started to be real. This was when the real bus hit me and the rest of the journey felt like i was soaring.
Off to Georgia we went to say the final good-byes and to let go of the fear and stress that came along with my parents. They always disapproved of everything, and for that moment, I just didn’t care. It seemed to me like every time I began to invest my mind, part of my soul, and attention to something, it was smashed, pressed, twisted, and put out like a half smoked cigarette.
We continued to drive through the night, stopping only a few times at various rest areas. The scent of the night was sweet and it felt as if a thick layer of honey and the aroma of magnolias, honeysuckle and dew adhered to my lungs every time I inhaled. The night was full of bitter sweetness, but only for the sole reason that my life was about to change in a blink of my eye and I had yet to adjust to the new vision ahead. The night continued on. Ten hours of cigarettes, Paramore, and a higher state of mind. A floating sense of being. I belonged to the world now. I belonged to everything but wanted nothing in return except a richness in meaning.
5:30am. Georgia. Thursday Morning.
I dropped Lisa off at her brothers and we went our own way for a few nights. Onward, I drove into this coral, burning sunrise. My eyes were heavy and delirium began to take the better part of me. My corneas saw nothing but heat. The passion that ignited in the middle of the night in the form of stories dreams drifted to slumber-y embers.
Ziggy was curled and fast asleep in my front passenger seat. My windows were open and a cool, sweet, morning breeze enveloped me. Caution was sent to the wind and I dove into the fire.
I arrived at my parents home around 7. Birds were singing and I needed a bed. My mom hugged me as soon as she saw me as if she didn’t want to say good-bye when she had to.
Ziggy wouldn’t settle and I was so tired. I blacked out my windows and tried to sleep, but all I could hear was the clunking and clanking of my mother making breakfast and my aunts loud cackles. Ziggy was restless as ever, but I couldn’t blame him, He was just, if not more confused and disoriented as I was. I woke up at six in the evening slightly rejuvenated. I ate as much as my mom could cook me and so did Ziggy.
My dad and sisters were expected to arrive late Friday night. Last days as a whole family. Days went by so quickly with them. And even quicker with visions of my love on loop and repeat.
Finally the morning arrived when I was to depart. I had three coffees in me and my mom packed me a whole bag of egg rolls and some kind of chips for the road. My dad and Chris were busy tying up the rest of my stuff to my truck and mom seemed to have disappeared. The moment finally came and I hugged my Dad, my aunt, my sister, Chris, Johnny, and my grandpa. My last hug was for my mom. She was inside and my Dad went to go look for her only to find her in uncontrollable tears. I hugged her and told her that I’ll be safe and back soon. Then, my grandpa started to cry because my mom was crying and then my sister and then me. We all looked like a bunch of nuts from the family tree.
And then Ziggy and I drove off together. My furr ever adventurer. With my little sidekick beside me, I felt lost and found at the same time. It was just me and him. From beginning to very end. The only thing that knew me as his own and I, his.
Off to see Lisa!
almost 10 months since I moved across country to the bay area and I am loving every day!
The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.” ―
I was in the winter of my life, and the men I met along the road were my only summer. At night I fell asleep with visions of myself, dancing and laughing and crying with them. Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour, and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times. I was a singer - not a very popular one, I once had a dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events some of those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken. But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is. When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I’d been living, they asked me why - but there’s no use in talking to people who have home. They have no idea what it’s like to seek safety in other people - for home to be wherever you lay your head. I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean… And if I said I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying… Because I was born to be the other woman. I belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone. Who had nothing, who wanted everything, with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.
I would give anything to feel like I’m doing enough.