stop right there.......before anything else.....pump up the volume. this is neither a request nor a command, this is a sincere plea.
Its as if I watching the world's most epic sunset about to completely set and i didn't nudge the person sleeping next to me to wake up and get a good look at it. Things like this were meant to be shared... (also the feeling i have about every quote/poem/picture i stumble upon)
In fact, I am only blogging because i want others to hear this song.
I don't know the term stronger and more potent than utter obsession, but that's exactly what i have for this.
it makes me wander off into some form of deja vu-ish nostalgia about no one in particular. Kinda like when you walk by a scent but you cant pinpoint what memory you associate it with.. a memory youd like to trace back even though in the back of your mind you know it might of never even existed. but wish it did.
But maybe that's something unique to wanderlust fools like me....i wish for moments in terms of poems, song lyrics, and movies. If I was a director, everything in my life would be perfectly crafted to match a song. Which confirms what ive always been told, im in love with the thought of something as opposed to the actual something.
Regardless, in this movie that is my life, this is the song in the soundtrack that plays when i meet the love(s) of my life.The only kinda songs that I can associate to past soundtracks have been by pitbull or neyo.
Big Jet Plane plays during the montage of "us" frolicking down windsome paths, taking black and white photographs, and looking up in the sky for UFOS.
Okay enough with this mystic romanticism.
Ive thrice attempted to blog of my two week bi-coastal visits but words on a page would not be suffice and cannot do it justice..therefore I cant even bother.
Whenever I feel like I cant explain something, I just give up and dont even attempt. I recently read that "People who are good with words are forever searching for the right way to express themselves, and that’s why they have no clarity "- Laura Marling
When i feel like i cant express or describe something, i get anxious and then retreat back into the mental labyrinth to see if I conjure the right way to say it...but in doing so I get all lost and twisted as most would do in a maze-like brain and jump onto another thought process.
This sounds like alot of emotions for a simple travel summary but im complicated like that. Id rather talk about melancholy and emotion than give a two page summary of something simple.
However, my trip was perfect.
It was a mixture of everything id like my life to be summed up in 2 weeks and 2 words. Ying and Yang. Extravagant simplicity, obscene tranquility, and LOTS OF FOOD. I wish I could balance that last part by adding excerpts of hikes, swims, or runs but there was absolutely none of that taking place. My sneakers, socks, and sports bra traveled in vain.
New York was high intensity energy, elaborate overpriced meals, wicked dancing with long-haired hippie strangers, and mental soliloquies on the sidewalks of Herald Square (my favorite spot, don't even ask me why.)
California was a stroll through memory lane with family and childhood BFFs, mountainous valleys, piers and surfers, Jeep Wranglers on Sunset Blvd with Neil Diamond blasting, and a dash of Mexican wedding crashing (mariachis included).
I loved everything about everyday because I did some true Carpe Diem'ing...something that should be done more often by my "i work all day and now im too lathargic to do anything but sloth" self.
I really think NY is the ultimate aphrodisiac for psychology enthusiasts...and for people that make up a story about every stranger they see. Its as if everyrone there (most people) are in an uphill race to this magical, breathtaking, Nowhere's land.
Now dont get the wrong impression and a negative connotation about Nowheres Land, hear me out about this imaginary thought-up land.
See, non-believers like me think that one can only be content in NY if you are very financially comfortable.
Im not going to lie or fake it; I need my car, i need my easy access to my living quarters, I need my appliances to be up-to-date......all these things in NY require a yearly salary of a Fajillion dollars.
New Yorker's are believers as well as LIVERS (lol...not the organ ...hahahaha that sounds awesome because i really wrote that enthusiastically only to realize I was capitalizing and putting emphasis on a word that really is an organ) #thingsthatexcitewriters
these NY livers walk up 5 flights of stairs, walk blocks and blocks in the rain, they struggle in the heat of the summer and wicked cold of the winter, and they know that they will be doing this forever as long as they live in NY....and they are fine with it. no, "fine" is not the word, they live for this because they understand the payoffs of doing so.
Payoffs such as laying in central park on the first day of Autumn or being serenaded by Josh Groban-esque musicians in the train stations.....Eating the finest pizza on that lil corner in SoHo where the proud restaurant owner is the one serving you.... watching parades of fabulous freaks on the sidewalks every single day.
i am a liver, but a miami liver, im too lazy to be a NY liver yet still vibrant enough to want to be a liver nonetheless.
California...i like you alot too. You are fresh, crisp, mountainous, and 'chill'...almost too chill. You are full of beautiful strangers everywhere....AND you have Laguna Beach, which is amazingly beautiful.....for 3 days. But I need a little more than that.
Miami is just so lovely and chachi and all i can think about is the fact that I'm going to be that "30 something clubber" in thatMalaysian aquatic paradise or whatever is being built in Downtown.
I am a Miami girl. I wish I was a Paris girl or NY girl or LA girl but I am a Miami girl and i might as well embrace it. I mean we did just have the next world power invest 3 billion dollars into this lil gem....so we must be doin' something right?
Anyways, I love living here yet yearning to live elsewhere. I enjoy being a burning mass of unfulfilled desires, just call me a masochist. There really is nothing like traveling to cool places but loving to come home.
To end this, I have a side story:
i am suddenly allergic to clams. How nerdy is that? clams. sounds like yams. clams made me clammy.....but when i say clammy i mean "a brutal fury of deathlike feeling was thrust upon me"
i NEVER get sick..EVER...especially when in public. I was too vain to faint. in fact I refuuuuused to faint , my brain was saying "oh dont u dare do that girl, there ARE PEOPLE WATCHING!"
I talked myself out of fainting but had i been by myself i woulda just face planted into the floor. I looked over to ashley and said, in a very matter-of-fact way, "i think im going to die" and just sat down on the table.
She was bewildered because this kind of stuff has never happened to me but i was too busy concentrating on not fainting that i wouldn't even respond to her. I just would look at her with the saddest puppy eyes and didnt even have the strength to speak. then i started sweating (i dont EVER sweat, i glisten occasionally on the rare occasion i am doing something strenuous) and thats when she freaked out.. Thankfully her boyfriend Zack's mom was there and as usually happens with mothers, she knew what was happening. She slipped me a benadryll and I was okay in 15 minutes.
Mind you, this all happened while in Fire Island...the land of no cars, hospitals, doctors, etc. Had she not randomly been there with a BENADRYLL in her POCKET (??) I woulda died.
God loves me. The End. Hold the clams, please.
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