#wanderlustt

There's something about feeling comfortable. At least for me there is. I went grocery shopping for the first time today since being back from Sydney, and as I wandered through the store, I ritualistically found my way to all my usual spots; the fish section, egg and produce sections. All without thinking about it, all without having to figure out where anything was. It was as if an invisible force - obviously my learned memory of the store - was guiding me along. But today I had a realization that I have been having and denying since I recovered from my health scare this year.

  I’m tired of feeling comfortable. I’m tired of the familiar.






I love LA. I can’t believe I actually said that. I love that I can walk down the street wearing gold glitter shoes, funky print leggings, and a big ass Afro and no one looks at me twice. I love the weather. I love the diversity of the city. I love how important and celebrated the art of food is here. Some of my very best and amazing friends live here. My family who has always been there for me, is here. This is the city where I started over. This is the city where I fell in love with filmmaking. This is the city where my mind was opened to the importance of travel. I am completely comfortable in this city.

  There were times in Sydney that I felt very uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, that I felt like being there was a mistake. That is just the fear talking. We have no time for that.

  This was my first trip by myself out of the country. I got lost several times, had my phone die on me and had to ask people for help (I hate asking for help), took the wrong trains, missed a ferry, got pooped on by seagulls, got scared by other birds and weird sounds in the night, had a heart attack every time I had to pay for something because everything is double and triple the price of what it is in LA. I forced myself to go out and meet people, and though I am getting better at it, it still makes me really uncomfortable. I couldn’t understand what people were saying because their accents were so thick and they spoke so quickly. One guy even started gesturing to me and I felt like, LOOK. YOUR ACCENT IS THICK AND I AM HARD OF HEARING. DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE I’M STUPID. I’M NOT DEAF. I was just generally confused on where the fuck I was. Normally, west is where the ocean is, but in Sydney, I think the ocean means east? Or south?

  Despite all these differences and frustrations, I was the happiest and most excited about life I’ve been in years during this trip.

  I love LA, but it doesn’t do it for me anymore.

  I want to be forced into living differently, into meeting people I would never normally meet. Into eating different foods, learning new words…I want to learn how to drive on the other side of the road and hopefully not kill anyone. I want to discover a world that I have been dreaming about since I came back from studying abroad in Italy my senior year of college.

  That semester abroad was essentially a gateway drug into my obsession with seeing the world.

  Hopefully one day, I’ll drive down the street and come across a kangaroo just chillin’, just living his life. Because that’s what they do there.

   "for what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. there's no time limit, stop whenever you want. you can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. we can make the best or the worst of it. i hope you make the best of it. and I hope you see things that startle you. i hope you feel things you never felt before. i hope you meet people with a different point of view. i hope you live a life you're proud of. if you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again."