I find myself on yet another cross country flight, on yet another exciting trip, reflecting on life as I perceive it right now versus years past. It's amazing how the older we all get we feel like we haven't changed as pieces of our old selves still live within us, for better or worse, and that the majority of the changes we perceive are happening around us.
have you ever gone through old photos and realize that you barely recognize the people in them? even one's of yourself? you ask yourself, "who is that wild, crazy person with the feathers in their hair and belly button ring?" and then you think of what was going on in that former version of yourself's world.
she couldn't tell you where home is because she has so many. she lives in the dark crevices of your heart and nestles into the hairs on the back of your neck. she makes you want to charge ahead into the battle taking place between your head and your heart while also begging that you stay for just a little while longer. she has traveled just enough to say that she's traveled. she learned her lessons from the drunk on the street and the hesitation from not-so-strangers. for years she believed she was cursed with the responsibility of caring for others and that painful scar crippled her.
i hear it all the time. "your generation is just so entitled," as if we're some product you can order off of Amazon Prime (you're secretly really proud that you have that account in the first place) and later leave a scathing review when it doesn't work the way you want it to. it's faulty logic. the product didn't manufacture itself. something created it--however in these statements, the creator of our supposed "entitlement" goes blameless. perhaps you as the user just aren't using us properly.
to escape the dark roast cynicism i flee to the mountains to be among masses are much larger than mine. the sound of silence is deafening and i'm convinced i could listen to it all day until my ears started to bleed. it's the realest thing i've ever known.
in 2016 i visited new york city for the first time in my life. it was nothing and everything i could have imagined, at the same time. i'd ride the subway thinking, "this is what new york is," as hardly anyone said a word for concern of being overheard. it's a beautiful melting pot of cultures and accents and ages and histories. what you can't discern from sights and sounds, you certainly can by smell.