i’ve meant to write about my adventures, but being at a keyboard seems to… cheapen the experience. i apologize for that. i tell you what: it was a pain in the ass blogging (something i never thought i’d be important enough to do) from my phone. and now it feels very unnatural doing it from my own keyboard. i’ll do my best.
i saw my friend mike. mike was kinda the catalyst for doing this whole idiotic trip: telling someone you want to do something and then being told you should. i was… ‘lucky’ enough to remember committing to it one night, and ‘lucky’ enough to have not blacked it out once i woke up.
Alex, the supre mega cute girl texted me one night, well, she texted me something that’s very important to her, “don’t forget who you are or where you came from.”
honestly, i think that was kinda the point. i’m not from anywhere. i’m nomadic and kinda searching for a place. somewhere i can call my own, somewhere i can call home. i’ve always felt… transient. i’m blessed enough to have a home base to return to, and maybe this is it. i don’t know.
she gave me a st. christopher and a st. jude. i never once took them off. i’m not catholic, but they’re very appropriate: the patron saints of travel and of lost causes. i never once took them off.
here’s an exact quote:
” i hope you do not feel so alone. and if you do i hope it brings you strength. i hope that you are not tired. but if you must be i hope it is from the exhaustion the past can bring. i hope you are not hungry, but if you are, i hope you are hungry for an incredible epiphany. i hope the world treats you well and find it to be a thoughtful teacher.”
i’m not sure i had an epiphany. maybe life will reveal it to me. if i learned anything at all it’s that life is worth living. it’s that there are people who value my company more than i ever could. am i a different person? absolutely not. and at the same time, completely. i thought i respected others, and i was wrong. i thought i knew hardship, and i was wrong. i thought i knew poverty, and i was wrong.
i am so incredibly blessed to have the friends and family that i have. i have multiple mother/father figures, when many have none. i’m in no position to adopt, so the best i can do is show my appreciation to those that have been there for me. there are those that i had no question would be there for me. there were also those that i never thought i’d see after highschool, and i was welcomed with open arms.
i’ll tell you something: when someone you haven’t spoken to in 17 years offers you a couch… not only offers a couch, but welcomes you into his home after so long… it gives you a special feeling. and that feeling can’t remotely compare to the feeling when you actually interact with that person or persons.
somehow time stops. once you’ve caught up, you revert back to the age where you were most intimate with that person. you laugh at fart jokes (because they’re funny) like you’re the one who dealt it. you’re amazed by their level of responsibility, and their girlfriend’s ability to condone it, or even participate in guitar hero, yet the childlike enthusiasm to extend this fleeting and inevitable maturity knows no bounds.
i relish my immaturity, and i mourn its passing at the same time. it’s time to be an adult, and that shit sucks.