The problem with my life is that I’m not the competitive type. And in life, you learn that if you don’t step in, they’ll force you to tap out. My uncle was really drunk at my bat mitzvah and started throwing Jordan almonds at me while I was doing my grand piano piece. Wasn’t able to finish the song because of the Jordan almonds hitting the keys. Until this day I can only play the beginning of that melody and have easily forgotten the rest. A man called me rude while I was eating a crepe, sitting in front of the Eiffel Tower for telling him to go away and I couldn’t muster up the energy to mutter any words because my lips were glued shut by nutella. Traveling can either be that much needed self revelation or fucking Jumanji when you pull the card you wish you hadn’t. The motion, not the card pulling is what I’d be trying to describe. You can really tell a lot about a person by the type of toilet paper they decide to buy. On my fortuitous travels, I am most thankful for the weird art decor on the bathroom walls of strangers’ homes of whom have taken me in. The strange art decor somehow comforts me of the idea that I am in a complete stranger’s home. My favorite way of knowing someone’s native language while traveling is peeking over at the book they’re reading and seeing what language the words are in. It is interesting to think about how when we die, we are placed back into the earth. Almost like we are giving back for what we have taken. Even though we have taken far more than we could ever give back. A girl called me a hedonist and I didn’t know what the word meant. I went home and looked it up and now find myself chanting the word in my head like a mantra. Figs have an opening which is called the eye that is not connected to the tree, which helps its development by increasing the communication with the environment. Figs became a desideratum while traveling, I searched relentlessly for the black flesh that enveloped the communion of luscious seeds who were so connected to its surroundings, while I was trying my best to do the same. Like all things. I am constantly delighted by looking up a word that I already know the meaning to, the idea that one word could be described by a collection of other words without using the word being described. The word milk might have to be my favorite – an opaque white fluid rich in fat and protein, secreted by female mammals for the nourishment of their young. Or, that liquid you put in your cereal. But of course language barriers require no words at all, but more so ineffective hand gestures and contorting body movements which happen to be so uninviting yet so intimate. Traveling across twelve countries and only having such ineffective hand gestures and contorting body movements wasn’t necessarily the thing that connected me so deeply with other humans. It was my ability to make each one feel like an old friend all because I would softly turn the corners of my mouth upward and show a little teeth, beaming with the wrinkles that become prominent around my eyes. I read some writing in a journal who belonged to a girl in my class and I don’t think I was suppose to because my name happened to be in it.
I am lazy, therefore I travel.