Venture Still

Where are you now.

I could say I'm in boxer shorts and a light pink sorority t-shirt, throwing every outfit that reminds me of a late 60's hippie into an over-sized suitcase. A suitcase I'll be dragging down the street tomorrow evening two-handedly towards the uptown local E train. And outfits that will be perfectly suited for my week-long trip to Amsterdam to visit my Kenyan sister, Neema Ntalel. I'll get to the train entrance and figure out how to haul the bag (that will most certainly cost me an extra $50 and be marked with a big red tag that reads: "HEAVY") down three flights of stairs and through a turnstile during end-of-day prime commute hours.

I enjoy riding the train to the airport. It's therapeutic as I shove my ipod speakers into my ears and mentally prepare. Anticipate. Feel the beginning of the venture.

It's midnight. Typing at my computer and looking out my first windowed room that faces a brick wall, I try to summon the state of emotion I was in the last time I packed my bags for JFK and another life. But I can't. It's easy to speak vividly of change when you need it. It's easy to dig down, so deep into the belly of belief systems and philosophies when you question your own; when life goes dark and history turns pitch black and we fumble blindly through the journey just to grab onto anything we can in order to survive (BREATHE). But right now...right now I feel pretty fucking great.

But just because I don't need it, I still want it. I want the extremity and novelty of a new experience and a new world and a reminder of all things raw. Another update of my mental state and reality check with perspective. Sometimes we need a little magic in our lives. And if you don't believe in magic...you'll just have to make some of your own.