"But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.
To quote from Whitman, ‘O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?’ 
Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.
What will your verse be?”
- Robin Williams, in “Dead Poets Society (1989)”​

Sitting at a coffee shop, listening to this older French couple next to me having an intense conversation in their beautiful language - or is it just beautiful because I don’t understand any of it?

There’s something so mysterious and organic about the incessant rhythmic flow of words. The eye contact, the touch, more words, a smile. Then I begin to wonder, how do people suddenly decide they don’t want to be alone anymore, that they wouldn’t mind having breakfast with the same person everyday for the rest of their lives — when do we have the epiphany that being alone is perhaps not worth it?

These are the thoughts of a girl sipping on coffee by herself, eavesdropping on a conversation she can’t quite decipher.

I feel like I’m always moving around. Like constantly. In 2014 alone, I’ve moved about seven times. I wish I were joking. But no. I forever live the life of a nomad. Maybe this kind of lifestyle is therapeutic for my perpetual fear of settlement or wildly satisfying for the indecisiveness. Whatever. But seriously though, I think I’m done moving for awhile…(knock on wood) 

So welcome to my super messy room, still getting settled in alright. 

Oh and cheesy breakfast. Basil mozzarella omelette with avocado and cherry tomatoes. Coffee.