There are moments in our lives when we have to take a metaphysical-type look at ourselves. Let's say I'm using the word "metaphysical" correctly, and let's just say that we can take ourselves out of our own bodies and spiritually just sit back in a couch and look at ourselves. So I see myself.
Right now.
In front of my laptop.
Looking at this white text box as it is filling with rambling black texts. I'm having a huge blockage in the creative part of my brain because my entire brain is in fact pondering why my parents have not arrived from the airport yet. But in any case, I'm here.
Here I am, having just been in Italy last week, California four months ago, and New York five months ago.
Spring Break couldn't have been better for my sanity (but horrible on my nerves; finals start next week and we're so not in the mood to study). Finally I could at least try to let go of all of stressful adult life choices that have been so burdening me: the internships, the tuition-paying, the summer housing! Gah! I see myself having a cow (that's still a catch-phrase, right?) and I can't calm myself down.
Who knows if the steps we take are the right ones, or if they will lead us to our proper destination? Over the break I could step outside my skin and tell myself, "Whoa, you need to calm the fuck down." I sort of did. Look at Joan of Arc, for instance. She insisted that she heard voices in her head, and she was crazy. So crazy, in fact, that she decided to lead an army and free France from bloody British hands. Lo and behold, what happened next? That's right.
Burned alive.
I went to Rouen to see her. Not "her" but, you know, mannequins that pretended to be her. How does anyone ever get to be noted in history like that? Who told her that it was her destiny to take so-and-so steps to become the patron saint of France?
Ok, so it was three angels carrying a message from God.
God's a little preoccupied at the moment. Please leave a message after the beep.
Italy was beautiful. It was really, really different from Paris. Paris is a wonderful metropolis kind of like New York City, and once you leave it for a place that's much more provincial, a place where you can walk from one end to another easily (like Florence), you can really feel a bit inspired. Inspired to want to take a huge change in your life, inspired to not want to do a thing in your life...inspired to just aimlessly wander through Europe.
Rome was nice.
Florence was beautiful, full of feisty mosquitoes, and very, dare I say? Tuscan.
Venice was one-of-a-kind, breath-taking, and dreamy.
Sometimes it's very nice to get out of a city like Paris and New York to escape from the hustle and bustle to find some sort of refuge. Leave behind the life you knew for a while. Refreshments are needed -- worrying too much is just not an option.
