break free

If there’s anywhere that could make a California girl feel even further away from home, it would be 4 cold days in New York City. I sit on a big bus, passing broken buildings, broken people, that all have broken little worlds. I guess in a sense I feel ok again. I don’t feel like a rat scampering across a bride’s wedding cake like I do in Boca. My pink elephants are once again hushed. With each pounding step on the cold grey concrete, my worries flee. My heart beats to my pounding footsteps. Dead grey trees claw at Central Park’s winter sky. Shades of glistening blue and cotton candy pink of the Carlsbad shore are replaced with skyscraper navy’s, and gravestone grays. Everyone is just like the last; they are city drones, zombies, in black trench coats and business suits. They work the nine to five; they dine out for breakfast lunch and dinner with their friends. They drink black coffee and smoke cigarettes, then go to whole foods to confess their sins, throwing their sweet tea in the glass-recycling bin. Black homeless men stand on street corners bowing to the icy concrete waiting for anyone’s sympathy. Hustlers push carts dripping with unnecessary items no Local New Yorker would need. Women walk around with their fur coats and tall leather boots, Coach and Juicy rest gracefully on gloved hands. Honest innocents, sinners, prostitutes, crooks, murderers, addicts, homeless all uncomfortably coalesced in a grey melting pot. Suddenly my heart felt heavy, as if it would drop from where it rested in my chest and fall to the icy sidewalk. I imagined some cart-pusher swiftly picking it up and selling it for 20 dollars. My body yearned to run along Carlsbad’s rolling coast, Pushing 50 minutes with 20 to go, sweaty and determined, with the sun high in the sky, the waves rolling in calm and smooth. I yearned to smell the barbeque emanating through the air as I pounded through the camp grounds, I yearned to see the slim surfer boys with their sun bleached hair trailing down there tan backs. I yearned to hear “fuck you dude”, a middle finger, and some obscene music blasting out the window of someone’s truck. Surf racks, cut offs, ray bans, house party’s, the smell of pot, and my brothers dark beer drinking fests held on my patio nightly.

All of this sits on my heart, so heavy and exhausting. Did I make the right decision, is this what I want? Do I want to be stuck in school for 3 more years, only to battle bills and the work force when I get out. I am the anti norm. Tell me what you want and ill do the opposite. So why am I doing this? I want to travel through Africa, Asia, I want to live on the coast of Thailand and dance in Jamaica. I want to sit on the rainforest floor as it rains. I want to explore alternative health and hike, and run and race. I don’t want to work a 9 to 5, I don’t want to live in the United States, bow to Obama and pay taxes. I don’t want to watch people kill themselves on diet soda,fast food, and chemotherapy. I don’t want to have fat, spoiled, American children. I don’t want to go to the gym on Sundays and use the day care. Im above this, I have knowledge, and with knowledge I have freedom.