Sexy Times- Totally Not Depressing…

I’m not entirely sure…. what to do with my future. I am back in Naples at the moment, laying in bed, exhausted but somehow awake and alert.

As per usual, I want to grab the future by the balls and make it my bitch. But how to achieve this? I’m at a crossroads. I can either work on sustaining this traveling game a bit longer, try and reinvigorate myself. But it’s been hard. I felt grounded and at peace during my stay at Ilma’s, although I was ready to leave by the time I got around to it, yearning for the sunshine of Spain.

After that, slowly but surely things became more and more uncomfortable. I went from being able to roll with the punches to becoming upset about small pennies. I had felt changed… like I was growing and bettering myself.

And then I had a long stay, feeling isolated in Quentar, followed by sleepless nights in Morocco, where this goddamn Aussie made me feel like shit about myself. I felt spoiled because I had a hard time sleeping, and therefor I had a hard time adjusting to the ruggedness of our accommodations. Why he was able to provoke me into questioning myself this much is beyond me. I fear, most of all, that he had a point. That I am spoiled. That I yearn for comfort.

The truth is, I do. Is that a bad thing? Bad enough to make it my mission to pull myself away from said comforts, to be absolutely sure I don’t rely and depend of these comforts, before I allow myself to go back to comfortable living? It’s like use of my cell phone… how easy it is to reattach my self to it for the majority of the day. I don’t want to be attached. I want to be more disciplined. But alas, is it bad to be on my phone and reading a book instead of staring out the window, alone with my thoughts? Because, when pushed to do so, being alone with my thoughts is beneficial. Yet, when the palm fitting screen is readily accessible, I don’t tend to my thoughts, and instead I indulge distractions.

So. Do I travel more? If so, where, and for how much longer? And then what? Do I plan a trip to visit my sister in Australia, which for some reason leaves me feeling like it’s a pathway back to California?

Speaking of, what after my travels? I’m pretty sure I am ready to get back to the hustle and hardships of finding work in “the industry” but will it be any easier/better this time around? Will iiiiii be better this time around? Will I be stronger and more confident and more willing to take risks? Will I be more disciplined? Will I be more willing to be uncomfortable? Will I be happier???

Do I want to go back to LA simply because it is warm and it sounds easier than dealing with the chaos of New York City again? Is it a choice that comes from the soul, because I am truly drawn to the city for all it has to offer? Or am I romanticizing the city, clinging on to what I know, knowing that deep down, I felt mostly disconnected there?  

When I think about Los Angeles, I think of warmth and opportunity. I think of possibility. But, sadly, it feels like my friends barely reside there. I am sad that I have not heard from anyone in months. Longer than months. No one has checked in, inquiring about where I am or how I am doing… and I wonder how strong those relationships really were if I’m so easily forgotten about? If I go back to LA I task myself with finding a new community while residing alongside my old community.

I also remember the competitive nature in which some people live. I remember the scant fashion and everybody wanting to be seen. I remember the expensiveness. I remember poverty. I remember traffic. I remember everyone’s attachment to their cell phones. I remember disconnect. I remember crowds.

I think of New York and I think of the heat of the summer and the freezing winter. I remember energy. I remember wandering and contemplating. I remember real people. I also remember tiny itty bitty apartment spaces for an astronomical cost. And I remember a 6-month winter keeping me indoors in a sunless haze, leaving me to rely on Vitamin D from sinking into a deep winter depression.

Right now the heavy winds outside in Napoli are howling. I haven’t seen the sun since I left Morocco on the 30th. It took me awhile to realize the noise was the wind. I’d guess it was a house party listening to Eerie Halloween music.

I feel compelled to mention that my travels have been profoundly beautiful, and I am still processing my journey thus far. I will be sure to post on my adventures soon enough. I am resting now, and digesting… and tired from 2-months of skipping around from country to country.