still plugging away at the moroccan account, the travel memoirs what-have-you. it’s really interesting actually; i wrote a lot of it when i got back into the country, back in richmond. i could take only so much of being twenty-something and stuck at home in the suburbs with no transportation, however, so i stopped writing and began figuring out how i was gonna move to new york.

so i’ve been in new york over a year and a month now. the first month into the second year i returned to the travel memoirs. weeks later and it’s almost as if i never left off, but at the same time, as i get through writing about each month of my time over there, it’s like a veil lifting from my eyes. which is exciting. it’s also stressful though. in a big way, it’s something that i HAVE to do, which takes the fun out of it sometimes. but once i start writing it all flows.

i knew that while i was over there i was learning a lot about myself, although that wasn’t necessarily the purpose of my travels. i also knew that i would learn more about myself in the years following the experience, that it would take a lot of time for things experienced then to really sink in and mesh with how i saw myself now. writing about it all is helping speed that process up, but i almost feel like i can’t see the end of the tunnel as i’m writing. but i’m determined to get there.

one thing i’ve realized over the past week is that my moroccan diet was incredible; healthy, varied, and oftentimes a very communal experience. i’ve mimicked some of my eating habits here in my efforts to cut costs in the most expensive city in the states. i find i’m hungry fairly often; maybe it’s because when i’m not skin and bones my body requires more energy to get it through the day. hmph.

peace

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