as i find myself going to bed on this blissfully ordinary summer night, i'm thinking about all the moments that brought me here. the moments of dragging myself out of bed to face another day of high school, another day filled with screaming lockers and glaring bells and florescent lights. the moments of dreaming of a new place, the place that would help me discover that person i so desperately desired to create, the place that came to be here - this place. my two-bedroom apartment on folsom st. with its' big windows, cramped kitchen, and hotel room carpet: the place where i now can be still and know that i am me, que soy yo, that i am free.
free from all the glaring bells and probing eyes and jagged words that once kept me from finding and meeting and growing this person that i am and have been since i found this two-bedroom apartment with its bubblegum pink bathroom counter top and squeaky, aged floors. this freedom is one i so often forget, but so adore to remember. the freedom to be veg/pescatarian depending on which day you ask me, the freedom to be a 22 year old girl that loves whiskey and ice-cold 40 oz. O.E.'s, and the freedom to be someone dreaming of a phD in cultural anthropology (that one still makes my heart jump a bit).
this freedom...it's beautiful.
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