3 years ago5,000+ Views
Taxi, that's what they call the state of the plane when it's fooling around on the ground. It's 9am and I'm off for a third time in 6 months.
I'm squinting at the desert through a crack between the seats on a United 747 Airbus.
I am an hour from starting my new life. You know, beginnings are odd, because they imply that whatever you did before is forgiven, gone in the wind underneath a domestic aircraft's mighty wings.
Sandwiched between two women playing candy crush I type away, recalling the events of 2015 as earth shaking.
Graduating from college was enough. But this? My first trip overseas, a stint in New York City, falling on my ass and wondering if I'd ever make it out alive. All these things happened in spite of my better judgement, organization, action item lists, cash problems and even mental instability. I somehow got myself home from South Korea and readied myself for yet another big move.
I kept thinking: how the hell did I do this, and then I realized something: I've been alone the whole way. Not to discredit family or friends but in spite of all the things that point us in the direction of companionship, we are alone. We come in alone, we go out alone and no matter what happens we only have ourselves to blame for our actions.
Maybe somewhere out In the desert I'll find truth or hope, maybe even love. I'm just hoping to find one of the three in the next few months. Or else, I'm not sure what else I can do. Waiting is for suckers.
After a brief 6 day sprint around Ohio, trying to make enough time for my friends and family, I boarded a flight to Denver this morning tired and sick, exhausted from a fit of coughing and hacking that kept me up most of the wee hours of the morning. No change, always awake but never fully functional.
23 years ago I was born in Arcadia, California. A suburb of Los Angeles, in the Methodist hospital is famous for treating jockies who are trampled by horses at Santa Anita racetrack.
That word is funny to me, Arcadia, because in some circles it's synonymous with utopia, a place where all can come to be without strings or sadness. It's a creative wonderland for artists and poets. Arcadia is the best place in the world. And that's where I was born.
I'm not sure what the exact state of that place is today, but I might take a drive down. I hear the Pacific Coast highway is beautiful this time of year.
23 years ago I was an infant, incapable of speaking, eating or thinking on their own. All of that has changed. Even though overseas, I felt closer to that, now I feel like I could make something of myself. No matter how small, I can try. We can always try.
In all the movies and tv shows, California seems to represent money or fame, a new beginning, a time to finish old business.
I've always felt an attachment to the West, like somehow I'd be pulled back no matter what got in my way. Home. Yeah, that sounds about right. The desert, the trees, it doesn't matter. This will be wonderful.
You always feel a bit of sadness when you leave a place you've gotten used to. And of course, that sadness can lead to depression or anger, but now, I've learned to channel it into energy, hope. Something to grab on to when the sleep never comes.
Loneliness is alright, as long as you believe in what you're doing and where you're going.
The flight announcement booms overhead: you are now approaching San Francisco international airport. Hope to see you again soon.
Wine country comes into view, a beautiful sight splitting the clouds in half like cotton balls.
The San Francisco Bay glitters like lost holy water in the back of a desert church, and is old news to my fellow passengers who have seen it a million times. But for me, it's everything.
There is no sense in hanging on to the past, grudges, bad people. For there is much ahead.
Roads become visible teasing me with the idea of a world unseen.
So many paths to take.Right now, which one is not important.
The only thing that matters is effort, a willingness to learn and the ability to live hard and chaotically for a while.The willingness to start over, and do good.

Make sure to grab everything from the overhead compartment. Return your seat back to its upright and locked position.

"If the San Francisco Bay is your home, welcome."

The New collection: "Life in the Bay" coming soon!
Wow have fun! Excited to see your next move 鈾♀櫋
And good luck with your new life in San Fran!
Tag me in it when you start your new collection!
Yayyyy! Excited for this 馃
can't wait to see what you do next..God's speed to you