These past few weeks I have been reading up a storm.
It can be much too easy to let the voice of cynicism speak louder than hope, to add up the ways in which I feel inadequate, to list all of the things I wish were different or better.
Instead, I choose to fight fire with gratitude.
I’m the kind of person that furiously writes down everything because I’m scared of losing memories.
And my twentieth year inspired a lot, a lot, of words.
These past few months have been a lot. More than I know what to do with. In both wonderful and difficult ways. Continue reading “It’s finally, finally autumn, and my heart is really happy about it”
Many hours of traveling later, I’m back in the states, and it all feels a little surreal, being back in San Francisco again. I knew transitioning would be difficult, I know culture shock is real, and that there’s nothing that can really prepare you for leaving one place and arriving in another.