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I want to see
Jan. 3rd, 2012 08:58 pmI want to see the beauty in the world. I want to see the rain falling from the sky and love it. I want to see the sun shining and love it. I want to see my dog rolling around and love it. I want to see hordes of people struggling for finals and love that, too.
I remember halfway on the trip, I thought it was a bad, bad, bad idea. I sat in the train station in Milan and cried and cried and cried, and I yelled and screamed through half of treeless Florence. Right past Michelangelo's David, haha. I thought I was a coward, I thought I knew what I needed to do, but I'm not sure if I was, in retrospect. Maybe running away is the cowardly thing to do.
I want to fly. :)
It didn't seem all that special. All of those ruins, all of those places, when you see one after another after another, you say to yourself, oh my god they're everywhere! And it's like sun in California. Or trinkets in Tokyo. Nothing new, nothing special.
Then you come home. And suddenly, without the little carry-on suitcase, without the constant moving from here to there, train tickets and bus tickets and metro passes, without the constant hello goodbye thanks for hosting you were great, without the tourist attraction every other day, you realize-
I did have an adventure. How did that happen?
Suddenly, I have stories to tell. Suddenly, confronted with the house I have lived in for 19 years, and the parents who are still drinking coffee, still terrorizing the dog, still work-a-holicking in their office, suddenly, I have stories enough to fill up to the roof and then some. I'm not sure I get it. How did that happen? Is this real? It didn't feel that special. If anything, half the time while on the trip things felt... mundane. When excitement and newness is a part of everyday life, then excitement and newness become mundane. And my mind, it's different. The scope, the way I look at everything, it's almost the same, but it's different somehow. I can feel it.
New Year's Resolution: Love the beauty in the world.
muah!
I remember halfway on the trip, I thought it was a bad, bad, bad idea. I sat in the train station in Milan and cried and cried and cried, and I yelled and screamed through half of treeless Florence. Right past Michelangelo's David, haha. I thought I was a coward, I thought I knew what I needed to do, but I'm not sure if I was, in retrospect. Maybe running away is the cowardly thing to do.
I want to fly. :)
It didn't seem all that special. All of those ruins, all of those places, when you see one after another after another, you say to yourself, oh my god they're everywhere! And it's like sun in California. Or trinkets in Tokyo. Nothing new, nothing special.
Then you come home. And suddenly, without the little carry-on suitcase, without the constant moving from here to there, train tickets and bus tickets and metro passes, without the constant hello goodbye thanks for hosting you were great, without the tourist attraction every other day, you realize-
I did have an adventure. How did that happen?
Suddenly, I have stories to tell. Suddenly, confronted with the house I have lived in for 19 years, and the parents who are still drinking coffee, still terrorizing the dog, still work-a-holicking in their office, suddenly, I have stories enough to fill up to the roof and then some. I'm not sure I get it. How did that happen? Is this real? It didn't feel that special. If anything, half the time while on the trip things felt... mundane. When excitement and newness is a part of everyday life, then excitement and newness become mundane. And my mind, it's different. The scope, the way I look at everything, it's almost the same, but it's different somehow. I can feel it.
New Year's Resolution: Love the beauty in the world.
muah!
