September and i are easing towards one another with lightness and determination. i'm coming into my own. in terms of what i want my future to look like and who i want dazzling along side with me is outlined clearer. i proclaimed early in October of 2012 that i was no longer satisfied with half efforts. half loves, half friends, half jobs. inconsistencies that allow half types to wander in my life and take selfishly. roughly 12 months later here i am ... still struggling, but getting to a defined place. it takes effort of strength to turn thoughts into reality. even more so for those of us battling forces beyond our control. my disposition is more intellectual than ever. i am painfully sharp and will not hesitate to initiate an impact. good or bad.
yes, hello. is the past calling? oh, well, issues I've dealt in isolation with are now in the open and getting their voices heard. and everyone has heard it. chances are, you know where you stand with me, and this should be a blessing for you. i'm as concrete now as i was many, many years ago. and those years proved to be worthy of happy flashbacks. i have applied the needed tenderness, assertiveness, introspection, and mental health (as far as i'm capable) to get to where i am currently, and now i'm waiting for October - when i'll really charge up.
issues clung to me like the ragged clothing I've kept for sentiments. but the guilt is over. overstayed its welcome, purpose, and weight. the purge is finished.
on top of everything i just got back from Barcelona and Moscow, where i had the best time of my life. literally. if everything were to end tomorrow i would be okay. i got to sleep next to Catalan tongues. i danced with Russian strangers, and i visited my grandmother's grave. i am full. i detached from the old and suddenly my being was free. i felt no holds to my regular negativity.
my trip to Russia was necessary for my well being. i saw treasures, trash and harshness of people i grow admiration for everyday. i saw myself as a child. and realized my memories are deceitful, as they don't paint the picture of what life would be like now, as an adult, and aware of truth. i spent my days polishing on the language, eating piroshky (while good, could never match up to my mom's) and feeding the homeless. i got into a fight with Russian cops (who really are about as threatening as squirrels,) almost broke into the Lubianka, and danced at the cheesiest euro trash discotheque ever. also s/o to Barcelona for being obsessed with David Guetta.
i didn't go to one museum while i was in Barcelona. the streets are so beautiful it really is art in itself. and the food! let us bless the tapas. i didn't get to see a football game because it didn't fit into my time schedule, but the barca spirit through the streets is enchanting. i spend so much time devoted to my favorite soccer team in the states, keeping it mostly to myself, and here i was IN THE CITY OF BARCA FANATICS and it felt amazing. my best friend and i stayed at a modest hotel, though we were hardly indoors for long. most of our time was spent walking, sitting with pigeons, and starring off into the water. tourist vibes give me the irks, though it's kind of hard /not/ to break out your camera almost every other minute. ^^^
as much as i appreciated the happy go lucky atmosphere of Barcelona where it really was near impossible to feel down. there was always a comforting negativity in Russia that you just can't get anywhere else. and to a Russian --- that's priceless to be honest.
you can't take the tough out of a girl. the streets of Moscow will never abandon my demeanor. it's who i am. the amount of pleasure i experienced elbowing people on the subway as i made my way stomping on heels and being mindless as fuck. TRY IT. it's rude to foreigners, but we don't give a mind. and for all the big talk new yorkers do about being 'in your face' --- you really haven't seen much til a babushka is throwing shade at your entire existence.
now that i'm back home, nothing is the same old. i feel relaxed, and inspired. i'm not sure why. it won't last, i know. it's the leftover traveler scent. but i'll savior it for now
yes, hello. is the past calling? oh, well, issues I've dealt in isolation with are now in the open and getting their voices heard. and everyone has heard it. chances are, you know where you stand with me, and this should be a blessing for you. i'm as concrete now as i was many, many years ago. and those years proved to be worthy of happy flashbacks. i have applied the needed tenderness, assertiveness, introspection, and mental health (as far as i'm capable) to get to where i am currently, and now i'm waiting for October - when i'll really charge up.
issues clung to me like the ragged clothing I've kept for sentiments. but the guilt is over. overstayed its welcome, purpose, and weight. the purge is finished.
on top of everything i just got back from Barcelona and Moscow, where i had the best time of my life. literally. if everything were to end tomorrow i would be okay. i got to sleep next to Catalan tongues. i danced with Russian strangers, and i visited my grandmother's grave. i am full. i detached from the old and suddenly my being was free. i felt no holds to my regular negativity.
my trip to Russia was necessary for my well being. i saw treasures, trash and harshness of people i grow admiration for everyday. i saw myself as a child. and realized my memories are deceitful, as they don't paint the picture of what life would be like now, as an adult, and aware of truth. i spent my days polishing on the language, eating piroshky (while good, could never match up to my mom's) and feeding the homeless. i got into a fight with Russian cops (who really are about as threatening as squirrels,) almost broke into the Lubianka, and danced at the cheesiest euro trash discotheque ever. also s/o to Barcelona for being obsessed with David Guetta.
i didn't go to one museum while i was in Barcelona. the streets are so beautiful it really is art in itself. and the food! let us bless the tapas. i didn't get to see a football game because it didn't fit into my time schedule, but the barca spirit through the streets is enchanting. i spend so much time devoted to my favorite soccer team in the states, keeping it mostly to myself, and here i was IN THE CITY OF BARCA FANATICS and it felt amazing. my best friend and i stayed at a modest hotel, though we were hardly indoors for long. most of our time was spent walking, sitting with pigeons, and starring off into the water. tourist vibes give me the irks, though it's kind of hard /not/ to break out your camera almost every other minute. ^^^
as much as i appreciated the happy go lucky atmosphere of Barcelona where it really was near impossible to feel down. there was always a comforting negativity in Russia that you just can't get anywhere else. and to a Russian --- that's priceless to be honest.
you can't take the tough out of a girl. the streets of Moscow will never abandon my demeanor. it's who i am. the amount of pleasure i experienced elbowing people on the subway as i made my way stomping on heels and being mindless as fuck. TRY IT. it's rude to foreigners, but we don't give a mind. and for all the big talk new yorkers do about being 'in your face' --- you really haven't seen much til a babushka is throwing shade at your entire existence.
now that i'm back home, nothing is the same old. i feel relaxed, and inspired. i'm not sure why. it won't last, i know. it's the leftover traveler scent. but i'll savior it for now