Paris is everything the starry-eyed, six year old version of myself imagined it would be. Demure couples wandering idyllic streets hand in hand, stopping now and then to amorously brush a hand across a cheek
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My friends love to tease me for my hippie-like tendencies. I meditate daily, study the teachings of The Buddha, and refuse to kill bugs on my bedroom wall (unless they’re mosquitos. I have a theory about why it’s okay to kill them...a different story for a different day.)
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You introduce me to strange and wonderful characters I never dreamt I’d meet. You paint me pictures of faraway lands and distant pasts and anticipated futures. You breathe life and knowledge into me and I am your agreeable vessel.
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What I have started to figure out, though, is this: Whether you’re a man or a woman, if you’re not on the same page with the person that you’re interested in... If you are investing much more time and effort than they are...If you feel like you're constantly receiving mixed signals or continuously having to make excuses for tactless or thoughtless behavior…Move on.
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There’s an unparalleled type of magic and an unequivocal vitality in a traditional Irish session. It is imbued with heritage, soul and illusion. To bear witness to one is to temporarily become a part of the the laughter, joy, hope and struggle of a culture.
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Long term travel is not for the faint of heart. It requires you to be bold, fearless and independent. It calls for a certain level of forgoence. You need to be able to say goodbye to things and the people that you love and more than anything else, you need to want the change that comes with that.
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Just one moment. What is that? A strange thing you're emitting. What I mistook for demure silence is actually... Is that pride? Yes, look at you, wearing your own flesh with vitality, audaciously displaying all of your resplendent radiance. How strange, almost like there's strength beneath all that scrumptious skin.
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I resent it when I find myself mindlessly scrolling through Facebook while in a room full of my friends. I resent it when I’m bearing witness to a beautiful view and I hear a shrill complaint about the lack of wifi because a study-abroad student can’t post their photo on Instagram. And I really resent it when my non-millennial friends tell me about the age of dating pre-tinder and how a person would actually call you to make a plan rather than message at 12am to “see if you’re out.”
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I believe in magic. I always have and I’m quite sure I always will. I like to believe that there are fairies out there somewhere and that they just haven’t revealed themselves to me yet. I like to believe that there are enchanted forests and mystical creatures and that my letter from Hogwarts just got lost in the mail.
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There’s an intimacy that comes with having a stranger's eyes on you as your dewy skin glistens in a barely-there dress. An unmatched sensuality in sleeping bodies intertwined on a hot night, when the difference between your sweat and mine becomes indistinguishable.
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