So out of my element I don’t even know what my own skin looks like anymore. Bug repellent has replaced any other scent, including home. It’s cold and gloomy, two things that are my personal recipe for depression. Who knew the road to one of the wonders of the world would be so littered with damp greyness, my disgust and heartbreak intertwining like lovers. Saying goodbye to an essential piece of our puzzle has put us in shock mode, and we crave something beautiful, hoping its at the next stop, out the window of our 12 hour bus rides, nestled in our recent photographs. We seem to only find comfort in our music; hip hop, folk and classic rock on repeat for hours. Thank goodness for our neck pillows, cause god only knows how much less sleep we would get without them. So emotionally and physically uncomfortable I forget I can touch my toes and that my favorite past time is yoga. The only lighting in any establishment is fluorescent, putting a green neon tinge to our already nauseating appearances (going on 3 days without a shower cause we’d rather stink then endure another cold dribble). Don’t cross the street, pedestrians have no say here. You thought driving in LA is scary? New York? Boston? You have no idea.
I feel as if I’ve been in a bad dream for 3 days straight, somewhere stuck between the cheesiness of both the 70s and 80s.
I’ve learned it’s up to me to change the already declining world, the dying animals, the species that are being tortured and killed off for the benefit of tourists. To understand what’s happening on the other side of comfort, to share my experiences and hope that a bit of positive energy and knowledge will aid in progression. I hope to teach my younger sisters that nothing will get done unless we take it into our own hands. This world is ours, not someone else’s.
We make lists of things we cant wait to do and eat and see when we get home, writing them down in every possible devise available. But I wouldn’t trade any moment for anything else in the world. A comfort zone is something we build ourselves, a cushion we lean on, and it’s up to me to push it, make the uncomfortable familiar. As much as I crave home, food I know the recipe to, people that understand me, there is too much adventure and exploring to do. So world: I ask you to keep it coming. We can take it, with open arms, and the biggest smile on our faces.
