Growing up

Don’t know if it’s the rain. Or if it was the bad news from yesterday.

But I’ve been feeling down. I wonder if I’m truly happy.

I ran across an old friend’s blog and I just miss her energy šŸ˜« I miss quite a few people. I’m always traveling or doing something that doesn’t involve many people … and don’t get me wrong, I love living this way … but I feel like I’m missing out.

It was super hard to get out of bed today. I forced myself to work out. And then eat. And do all the right things. I’ve neglected my studies.

Of course, there was a full moon in Virgo yesterday. Probably why I’m over criticizing my great life.

Yeah, maybe I don’t get to live in the vulnerable bubble of youth and adventure. But I do have stability and a real life. Growing up is hard. And it’s a boring process. It’s also a process of adapting to newer ways, consistently.

I miss being wild, but it cost me a lot of life. And has left me with a lot of explaining. I l guess, I just don’t want to wear these big girl pants, especially when I lived in shorts and bikinis for so long. *sigh*


I was sad to wake up to news about my old neighborhood friend passing away (due to a drug overdose.)

He was the most handsome kid in town. Although, he did tease me quite often. So bad, that I even stopped passing by his cul de sac on my way home from school just to avoid him.

And then with time, we forgot about each other.

As a pre-teen, I would fantasize a life with both of us running off into the wild. Corny. Just the thought makes me want to slap my younger self.

We fought. We laughed. We told each other secrets. He back stabbed me once. And then we fought again. And then we started growing apart. I do remember passing by his cul de sac (this time with confidence) and I remember him walking over and saying hi. And I remembered laughing to myself, like “hah! Look who’s being nice now, too late.”

And that was the last time I decided to catch sight of him. By then, I thought I was too cool. I left that neighborhood and made way for a new life. And, I guess he didn’t.

So, now, I’m stuck with this moment of grief… one day, I’ll be back in Washington and I’ll drive by that old neighborhood…and I’ll pass by his cul de sac… and he won’t ever be there again.

It’s interesting how at one point, you can’t get your mind to stop thinking of someone. And then you do stop. Day by day. And suddenly you go years without them ever crossing your mind…. until one day, you get that call that they are gone.

Rest In Peace

A summer to live for

The Hamptons, New York

This summer, I found a small cottage by the beach that I’m going to live in.

It’s small, clean and very cute. Has a huge garden, a pool, a tree house and a swing hanging on a tree branch that looks out on to the lake.

I’m so excited. I plan to write, ride my bike to the beach, read a bunch of books, smoke and try my best to eat healthy.

The place is owned by a super rich widowed non-profit lady. She has 25 acres of farm land with horses and a garden.

I realized the best way to heal yourself from bad memories, is to make better and newer ones. Even though I had an awesome summer last year, I’m ready to have a relaxing one this year.

By then I should be done with my class and I can get back into the art of things.

Oh and it has a tree house! Lol, funny, I was just writing about those a few days ago.

Book(s) of the Month

Enheduanna was one of the first authors in the world. She was Sumerian royalty and lived in what is known as Iraq today.

That peeked my interest so I decided to read her poems about Inanna. Which then peeked my interest in more ancient stories from Iraq. Which then made me realize most of these poems she wrote were then used in the Bible. Makes things a little fishy, but they’ve always been fishy.

Anyways, what I mainly got from this was that a lot of people took a lot of time to learn Sumerian and translate it to an English-reading audience. It’s actually really comical because some of these stories really resonate with the ‘oneness’ we celebrate as humans. The gods described in these stories have narcissistic attributes to themselves, for example, certain gods will have people born with disabilities so that they can live to worship them. “The less gods are born to serve the Gods.” Nothing is made to out to be perfect because the stories resonate with times in Mesopotamia. War, deaths, “cults” (as Wikipedia puts it). But also… it tells a tale that many empires have failed to realize. 4000 years ago this civilization put all of their energy into weapons and defending themselves — that the idea of always being ready to fight is what eventually destroyed them.

So that’s deep.

And, unfortunately, war has been around for as long as writing has. I wonder what that says about humanity. šŸ™ƒ

5 months no heat and 2 trims. Never straightening my hair. I want to grow my hair big and natural. One thing I regret is taking my hair for granted. I wish I didn’t get so easily brainwashed by ads into thinking my hair wasn’t good enough. I love it curly now.

I think grey hair is cool! It gives dark hair a sheen.

It was so hard to commit to no heat because I looked homeless for the first 3 months, but with the help of French braids & having a gold tan from Costa Rica, I managed to look decent. šŸ˜‚

I’m excited to try this multivitamin, the girl at my salon said it was good for people who had sensitivities. Plus it’s supposed to really grow your hair out!

Saying Bye to Social Media and Hello Meditation

Finally back in the city where I can get back into the groove of things. My skin is a mess from the antibiotics I took, my hair hasn’t been properly conditioned and trimmed …. and I’m behind on my meditation, journaling and studying goals.

I have however, maintained to stay off of social media. Arbs and I have labeled it the devil of our time. Just like any other drug it triggers a dopamine high, and just like any other drug you find yourself sitting in the bathroom for 2 hours too many….scrolling. (Side note: at least other drugs make you clean your bathroom… LOL!)

There are, supposedly, people who can check it once for 30 minutes of the day. I don’t know any of those people. In fact, the circle of successful people I know — or even the ones on their way to success — simply don’t have it, or don’t go on it.

Then there are some people that have to have it for the purpose of their job — I’m glad I’m not one of those people.

For me, it takes away time that I could be using to mark goals off of my list.

When I could be journaling, instead, I’m searching for #tinyhousemovement, and getting ideas on how to decorate the tiny house I’m probably never going to get. Or the fact that I know what lip gloss Kylie Jenner wore when giving birth. It’s unnecessary. But it’s addicting.

I question if I will miss the opportunity of keeping in touch with people’s journeys, but if it was meant to be, we’d be doing a better job with staying in touch. Because that’s what real friends do, not followers.

It’s a strange world, and I’m starting to see the division in my generation. Those that live outside of social media and those that don’t. When I posted on my Instagram that I was no longer going to use it. I got a message saying that I was one of a kind.

I’m sure the person meant it in a positive way — but it’s sad, that there aren’t going to be too many people like me?

I don’t know, I beg to differ. I believe there are enough people (my age) outside of social media that keep in touch through phone calls and messages — and maybe even emails. And that once in a while, from their busy lives, they have lunch together. (Do I sound like a grandma?)

And if there isn’t, than I’m okay with that. I’ll be sad, but I’ll have some sort of satisfaction with my own truth. I’m okay being woketh in my own little world.

No longer will the world know what I’m eating for breakfast, what tea I drink, what country I’m traveling to and what I’m doing at 6:00 a.m. on a Monday. Unless of course, you read my blog.

That’s my que to go, ciao!

The Japanese Flag

The first day of a period is always flabbergasted with heavy emotions.

I woke up and I cried. I started thinking about how far I’d come. How my childhood began in a dark and shady flat with my immediate family. And how everything has sort of turned into a fairy tale ending.

I began to have vivid memories of this place. It’s a heartfelt memory now.

And then, I began to think about all of the times I just wanted to give love but never got it back.

And I’m glad…I didn’t get it back (now). Because the person that has my heart has given me that fairytale ending.

(And all of those who played me, eat your m*****-f****** out – drizzy). Of course, I’m quoting drake while I’m on my period. It’s bad. I love drake though.

It’s been a whirlwind of emotions and tears. I tried to take a nature walk, but for 3 miles I was uncomfortable with where my mind and body was at.

I was also doped up on Benadryl. I got a rash from the antibiotics I took. I’m exhausted.

Anyway, I did get to enjoy sunny and warm weather. North Carolina is nice, I guess.

I just want to be back in NYC and not travel for a little while. Don’t get me wrong, being on the road is great.

But I’ve got to get a more realistic routine together, so that I don’t end up all raggedy when I touch down.