the top of the mountains

 i grew up in a dry valley surrounded by mountains. Endless fields of corn and alfalfa stretched for miles until they reached the foot of the peaks.

The contrast was sublime. Most days in my childhood, I would spend every waking moment in those mountains — legs wrapped tightly against a horse, feet in the stirrups, and hands gripping the reigns. This taught me how to trust, trust that at the end of a long days work, that my feet would touch the Earth again. As my tiny body swooped down from the horses back, the soles of my feet stinging as they connected with the dirt, I was reminded how connected I was to the rest of the vibration that I saw and felt and tasted and heard and smelled when the aspen trees would change colors in the fall, igniting the entire mesa on fire. 

This is where I found myself, up there in the mountains, riding for hours-miles-days even, as the sun moved up my face and over my head. We would break for lunch, and the stillness, quietness was both startling and comforting at the same time. I didn’t wonder about the rest of the world — I fully believed that the entirety of it was in my lap (a canteen of water and a pack of sardines with crackers.) This simplicity is something I ache for now. I dream of riding my horse through the vastness of the mountains. Up there, my worries were few. I was just another one of the leaves blowing in the wind, the specs of dirt, the drops of water in the river. Perhaps there were some pesky mosquitos or the occasional blistering sun burn, but nothing that didn’t remind you that you were matter-of-fact as alive as everything else.

The way the mountains would change through the seasons — from snow-topped and jagged to green and flourishing, soft and blurred in the distance, always helped remind me that there was so much more beyond those big, frighteningly beautiful mountains. It left me with a hunger to climb — to see how far I could make it while I was still gifted with this breathe. 

The same has held true with learning. Ever since I picked up my first book, I never wanted to stop questioning, thinking, pondering, challenging, and just philosophizing about what IS.

That question — What IS — burns on the tip of my tongue and dangles in the back of my mind at all hours, minutes, seconds of the day. There is so much to wonder about: 

What is the meaning of life, or is there any meaning at all?

What is the meaning of love, and is it something that is best left undefined? 

What is my purpose, and could it perhaps be to simply exist? 

What happens when we stop breathing, you & I, when we die? 

I cannot stop asking why, and this is what I will do until I die. If no one else attempts to climb the mountains, I will try to do it for them. Because while it might be mice to sit comfortably at the bottom and piddle one’s thumbs, the view at top will help you answer your why. It might terrify you, astound you, shake you to your core, but you will feel what it means to be truly aware of how small you are. 

Life is meant to be uncomfortable and consist of suffering, but if we can find a sense of calm; if we can find our breath, then this discomfort will transform into something so meaningful. Our suffering will turn into our purpose unraveling before our eyes. In the Greek philosophy, this is known as our “telos,” full potential/ inherent purpose. It might be temporarily comfortable to avoid suffering and resist pain, but this, my friend, is simply existing. 

A life full of pleasure and avoidance is one wasted. We are meant to feel it all. 

We must feel our hearts beating out of our chest, our lungs pulsating and struggling, our muscles straining to get up that mountain to know that we truly lived. 

am i crazy or am i just a student surviving during a pandemic?

 this is probably the billionth time this semester, scratch that, this YEAR, that i've questioned my own sanity and my own existence. i feel like i'm stuck in a cycle of existential crisis and dread, and i have to remind myself that this uncertainty and lack of control is an unavoidable constituent of living in the year of 2020, especially as a college student.

this was the first semester of my senior year, and it was supposed to be one of the best. i've had high expectations for every semester during college, because they are usually filled with learning things that change me entirely, make me grow so much that it can be painful at times, question who i am and what i want during this short time in this form, with this mind, with this capability. instead, it has punched me in the heart almost everyday. i've spent most of this semester in my bed (rarely have i worn pants this year), since all classes are online and so is my job, i literally stare at this 11 inch screen all fucking day, with the sun rising in the background and the sun setting while i slave away, giving any ounce of energy i have left to this routine that i have chosen. 

i'm so tired. so tired. i have been depressed beyond belief at times during this semester. i've had to dig myself out of some of the darkest holes i've found myself in during the 22 years of existing, but i'm still breathing, shallowly, but enough to keep me alive. i smile at a screen to convince my virtual world that i'm doing okay, but i'm barely surviving. i realized that the only thing that really brought me true joy in my life was my education and the people who were a part of this. i rarely see or talk to the professors or classmates who became more like family than educators, except for occasionally on my laptop. they are tired too. i have straight A's, like always, that i usually work myself into the ground for. but, i don't feel like i've learned as much as i should have. i took classes that are literally the epitome of importance and interest for me, and i feel like i am just doing some meaningless work to get it done and nothing else. am i throwing myself a bit of a pity party, well yes, but i think everyone needs to acknowledge how fucking bad this is and stop sugar-coating it. its great to see the positives, the bright side, and be optimistic, but you cannot grieve without acknowledging what you lost. i lost everything that gave my life meaning. i feel starved. you have to immerse yourself into pain, feel it, in order to process it and apply it. i've learned this the hard way. i've avoided it or swept it under the rug to possibly revisit someday. i was forced to acknowledge it this year. 

on top of my education being pretty much obsolete, this year has been full of growing into who i was meant to be and who i am, letting my old self actually fucking die, shedding the expectations, the image, the ideals that were ingrained so deeply into me that getting rid of them was like a slow painful death, losing people (lots of people) friends, family, who i thought loved and supported me, but did not. some of them i knew i could not have in my life anymore, whether they were holding me back, draining me, bringing me down instead of lifting me up, or here for the wrong reasons or the wrong joyclie. i started seeing things for how they truly are: my childhood, myself (and all of my flaws mistakes and pitfalls) but also myself for how wonderful i am despite these things. i finally, truly loved myself this year, not just fake love either, not just a love for the things that are pretty or likable that i showed on the outside or that other people liked about me, i loved EVERYTHING. even my darkness. i gave love freely to people who never really did the same, or who used me because i was there for them like a shiny new toy that would soon acquire some dust. i also gave love to people who gave it right back, and let it fill me to the brim. i showed people my shine, but i showed people my ugly, and then i knew who was meant to stay. i chose people who chose me, and i distanced myself from people whose energy did not match mine or lowered my vibration.

i realized what i valued: love, compassion, honesty, empathy, understanding, and a fucking rawness that lets you show the world that you are a human and not a postcard or an ornament. i learned how connected i am to everything; that i am not separate from the is-ness, but rather a vibrating constituent of the equation of the cosmos. i'm also a spec of dust; no greater than the fly on my wall or the philosophers i read each day. this made me change how i approached life entirely. i started being more eco-friendly, sustainable and kind to the earth to show a mutual respect that it shows us each and everyday by giving us life (i still have a long way to go until i feel i am truly respecting/giving back). i stopped buying useless material things like i used to just so i could have a bit of happiness from it (i still do from time to time in weak moments). i started spending most of my time in nature and listening to what it had to show me, tell me, teach me. i became quieter and more keen on listening than stealing the show (which i have always felt was the only way to combat how small i had made myself feel for so long). this consciousness began to arise as soon as i recognized the impact i could have. i started seeing a therapist and healing from my trauma so that i no longer inflict my pain or confusion onto others. i STOPPED curling myself up, making myself small, and began to stretch my arms out so wide that it feel like they might detach from my body. i let the abundance of existing and being thrust into this space/time continuum consume me by admitting that i know absolutely fucking nothing. this is now comforting. i started being more open with the people that i love, so that our relationship can grow and be real. i stopped letting people take advantage of me and set some boundaries for myself that i never knew was possible or that i deserved. i started having hard conversations, something i have avoided in attempt to bypass conflict by any means necessary, and i have been both hated and loved for it. i started letting good memories of people and things that no longer exist hold weight, but not so much that it draws me out of the present. i stopped people pleasing. i started living in the now the RIGHT HERE RIGHT now and relishing it. 

i decided to start living for something more than just myself. i started a feminist club, i began writing a novel, i told people how the fuck i actually feel, and i realized exactly what i want to do with this life, not what people want me to do or what will look impressive or successful. i accepted only real love; those who loved me and did not judge me after SEEING me.

this year is one that i will never ever forget. it has shaped me, molded me, burned me, caressed me, tested me, exposed me, hurt me, and helped make me who i am. i hope that other people who have survived this year have realized some of these things, too, and that we can lift the collective consciousness to a height we never thought we would reach. one that is accepting, loving, nonjudgmental, and in tune with the rest of the is-ness. i have so much to learn, so many ways i can be better, an endless amount of room for growth, a long ways to go for unbecoming and humility, and i hope to be a source for loving-compassion, radical acceptance, love, and joy for anyone who will let me give them love. i have a lot to give. 

& no, none of you have convinced me that i am a bad person, that i am unworthy, that i am too much, because i know my inherent-goodness, and it will not be stifled by echoes of your own discontent or discomfort. love only.

joy

it’s tuesday and it’s raining

 it’s tuesday and it’s raining 

my limbs move beneath me, ever so slowly, softly. 

the lull of a rainy tuesday morning makes my bed feel like a plush cloud of dreams 

a comfort that the world cannot provide me right now or ever. should i ever leave?

will i ever love again? 

i can see the moon better than i can see the sun

why does it stare at me? 

daring me? analyzing me? admiring me? 

& in the mornings i sometimes think of all the arms that have held me: 

some loosely, not tight enough

some so tight i could barely breathe

i breathe deeply and hold myself just tight enough

i wonder if i will ever let someone that close again

yet, i am in the state of loving again

perhaps i’ve found the greatest love of them all

myself

i love the things about me that i used to hate 

i am a spec of dust, made from the same matter as the stars 

i deserve my love before anyone else

on days when the sun doesn’t shine like today, my internal sun shines brightest

i love that strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that i used to dread 

reminding me of how powerful my emotions are

my vulnerability 

my tender heart that contrasts with the hardness of my head 

a mind so unwavering that it terrifies me and leaves me breathless at times

i sometimes wonder if the two were meant to be together? 

a heart so fragile and a head so impenetrable 

to love without remorse is not weakness

maybe this is the most puissant thing about me

i love with my eyes closed, without fear of the future, 

like sending it down a mountain covered in snow that came from the sky on 2 inches of plastic 

surreal, dreamlike, unearthly 

ready to fly, soar 

it is magic to feel this alive

right here, right now

it’s tuesday and it’s raining. 

forgiveness

we talked about forgiveness in my love & rhetoric class the other day. i sat in my chair, ignoring the class conversation, contemplating forgiveness, as per usual. the teacher always eventually asks, "what are you thinking, Joy." eventually, i fabricate a sentence that i think makes sense, but probably really doesn't, and everyone stares at me for a couple of weird seconds. i really went into that class (which is 3 hours long) thinking that forgiveness was sort of bullshit, and then i left the class (3 hours later) mentally forgiving everyone i felt has wronged me. i thought that someone shouldn't have to forgive a person if they (the person who wronged me) couldn't even recognize that that they had done wrong by me. However, my professor, who is insanely woke, always hits me with a shockingly beautiful statement that makes me question everything i thought i knew. She said, "perhaps forgiveness isn't meant for those who have wronged you, but rather for you to let go of hate that is weighing you down and not give them the power to hurt you any longer." As i am quite literally quaking in my chair, i knew she was right. so i did just that, i forgave. i forgave those who have hurt me so deeply that its changed my chemical DNA makeup. it took me a few hours to truly forgive certain people, but i did it.
later that day, i climbed a mountain (it was small). at the top of the mountain, i detached this hurt and pain from my body and i walked, sorta fell because it was icy, back down that mountain (literally). i realized how much power you can take back from some things that are so painful so as to not lose yourself in the process. it is okay to feel, to grieve, to not be okay, and to take your time on a path to forgiveness, but ultimately, it really does help you heal completely through.
i feel irrevocably stronger now that i am not letting certain people/circumstances make me feel angry, hurt, or altered in any way.
i was still hurt, i am still me, just with a little less unnecessary and metaphorical weight.

p.s. i linked the album that i listened to while writing this post below. :)
https://open.spotify.com/album/2vQc4bkSmLXHvtPFUgMT39?si=9kK7WlNFR1mNsare5zdyjg

something, nothing, and everything

this semester has by far been one of the best parts of my life; it has been generative, full of learning and growth, and living with those who I know will be in my life forever.
that said, i'm also in classes that have made me think harder than ever before, which is both good and bad. i'm much more knowledgable on extremely important subjects, like God, existence, love, death, matter, etc. but this also brings up a lot of existential crisis' when you are constantly thinking about such deep subject matter. however, i wouldn't have it any other way.
i'm in a death & dying course, and i've written my own will, my last letter, my obituary, and i've planned my own funeral in a matter of 3 months. i've thought a lot about dying, and in turn, i've thought a lot about living. I've decided that both are equally terrifying, inevitable pursuits.
i'm in a class that is about love and rhetoric surrounding love. i've questioned exactly what love means to me, how to love or be loved, how to talk about love, and how to enact love.
i'm in a course called "Aristotle." All we do is read Aristotle, hence the course title. We have read "The Physics," "The Metaphysics," "The Nicomachian Ethics," and now we are reading "The Poetics." Anyways, if anyone ever wants to truly feel like they understand the densest topics known to mankind, read Aristotle.
I've come to realize how everything is connected. All of nature is one with energy, and i think i've learned how to be more comfortable with existence because of this realization. i love learning so much and i wake up everyday excited to go to my classes.
And my friends, my friends are the glue that keeps my sanity intact, and i just cannot fathom how i found so many beautiful souls. when i'm reflecting on everything that i am thankful for, those girls are always at the top of the list.
i sit and think about my life and think "this cannot be my life," because it is so sweet.
so, instead of questioning it, i think i'll just revel in it.

feel it all around

i have spent my entire life loving so hard
that it hurts,
that it destroys me,
that it changes me,
that it alters my entire existence,
and I finally realized that i am so grateful that i love this deeply.
the moment i meet someone i almost immediately find five endearing things that i can appreciate about them or five things that make them different from someone else. Instead of constantly apologizing for loving like i do, or feeling everything so intensely, i realized that the people who love me also love this about me. i've spent my whole life apologizing for being the person that cries at movies that aren't that sad, or the person who gets equally or even more sad when someone i love is sad. but this is what makes me who i am. i cry in the middle of a concert when the beat drops or when my sister crosses the finish line in her race or my other sister scores a soccer goal, because i recognize these beautiful moments, moments i will never get back, so i let myself feel them entirely. i know that anyone who recognizes this about me is someone who truly gets me, and someone who also loves equally as deep. The other night when i was upset, one of my very best friends looked me in the eyes and said, "that's why i love you Joy, because you love so hard." it's taken me 21 years, but i've finally realized that the people who truly love you, and the people who are meant to love you will recognize what makes you who you are, and love you that much more for it.
there is an entire universe vibrating inside of me, and that's okay.

writing

When I think back to everything that's made me who I am: the people I love, the things I’ve experienced, the heartbreak I’ve felt, the happiness I’ve held onto, the songs that have resonated with me, the books that I couldn't put down; the one thing that I know will always be defining of who I am, and something that I will always have a passionate fire deep down for is writing. When I think back to the first time that I felt a soulful satisfaction when pen met paper in a moment of enraptured artistry, I knew that I was born to write. I would sit in my room on Banner road in middle school, unsure of who I even was, beginning to feel emotions that I didn't even know existed and expressing them on paper. I’ve always thought that words are the most powerful tool that any human can acquire. A person can have everything stripped away from them, except for knowledge and your true passion. Having that outlet to write and express myself built an entire solar system of stars within my mind that is constantly vibrating and pulsating just waiting to be expelled onto a piece of paper or spoken into existence. There is nothing I love more than communicating. It is the one aspect of life that connects all of us on a deeper level. Our consciousness and awareness craves the human connection that we desperately need. I think that it is so beautiful that fragments of people and places and moments can be left behind and scattered like dust by writing, so that nothing is ever really forgotten. There is nothing more powerful than a story. I’ve sat through creative writing and creative nonfiction writing courses and hours of conversations with my parents and grandparents in complete awe of the stories that people have been able to put into words. These people would've otherwise never been understood, but through writing they are able to unite an entire of buzz of energy coming from the rest of mankind and their shared experiences. I would not be who i am without my 2 a.m. writing bouts when sticky notes are filled with the most random thoughts and found at a time of clarity. I would not be who i am without the 14-year-old me sitting alone in a dark room with Vampire Weekend blasting in my ears as I wrote fervently, and then running to read what I had written to my mom.
I hope that I never forget that writing is my true love; the one thing that excites me to no end. Even when I’m a stressed-out mother or extremely busy adult with a career and a life, I have to hold onto this.
Never forget or ignore the one thing that makes your heart feel like it has been fed.

'everything was beautiful and nothing hurt'

i feel more distant than i ever have from writing, which also means that my creativity has been stifled and put on the back burner lately. This stops now.
So, who knew being a 20-old-girl would be extremely toilsome? Nothing is more uncertain in my life right now, and I know that at any moment I could make a decision that would completely change the rest of my future. I find this burdening, yet exhilarating. I'm making mistakes and learning; I'm getting lost (a lot) and finding my way back; I'm happy and I'm sad. I'm excited for what the future holds, but I'm also utterly terrified. I can feel it in my bones that I was put on this Earth to make a deep impact; whether it be small or large, so that is what I set out to do.
I don't believe I have ever felt more certain of my calling. I feel as though I have found the one thing that will give my life so much purpose and meaning. I've always been passionate about being an activist and creating change, but I wasn't sure what career path would lead me to this for a living. One morning, late this past spring, I woke up and I knew that I wanted to be a lawyer. I had dreamed about it, thought about it until my mind was perplexed at the possibility of not attaining this goal. Ever since then, I've been on a mission. I've studied for the LSAT more than I've breathed in the past few months. I've stayed up late researching court cases and law schools. It has been a long time since I've felt so enraptured by a possibility.
I'm the type of person who, once my mind is set on something, I will stop at nothing until I reach it.
Something that has forever changed who I am is watching people I love hurt. I could have something terrible happen to me, but it will never measure up to the heartache I feel when someone I love has been wronged. Some of the people that I truly cannot live without have been wronged in such a way that it has directed my career path to study criminal law, specifically specializing in rape and sexual assault cases. Basically, I want to put rapists in prison for the rest of my life. I want to look into the eyes of a victim, and promise them that I will stop at nothing until the person who has hurt them is behind bars for the rest of their lives. Even though this evil exists, I find comfort in knowing that I can help these victims, usually young women, move on with their lives. I know that this will be the most rewarding, and at times, the most difficult career path. However, I have faith that if anyone can do it, it's me.
Even though I have a goal I'm striving for, this time of my life can feel very uncertain at times. I still struggle with being away from my family, every single day. My little sister, my best friend, my whole world, just went to college. My life is rapidly changing; people are coming and people are going. I've found more peace and happiness in the past few months knowing that I'm living intentionally. I'm incorporating "Ahimsa" as best I can into my everyday life.
This is a Buddhist tradition that means "respect for all living things, and avoidance of violence towards others." This tradition is the reason why I want to help those who have experienced violence or wrong-doing. This means through mind, body and soul.
With this tradition in mind, I've began to reconstruct negative thoughts so that they are more positive. I've recently become a vegetarian again so I harm less living things. As much and as often as I can, I'm trying to be the best person I can possibly be. With that compilation of scatter-brained thoughts, I'll end with this:

I've never been more alone, on my one, as one, in my entire life, but I have also never felt so entirely whole. I can feel myself growing, blooming every single day. This is all we can really ask of ourselves.

summer '19: relizations

out of all of the summers of my life, this has been one of my most favorite. being 20 years old for almost a year has been an experience, to say the least. i'm no longer a teenager, yet i cannot drink (legally), and at heart i sometimes feel like I'm 8 years old and other times i feel like i'm 80. in the summer of 2018, i planned to come home for the entire summer, but ended up spending most of it back in the Springs. this was mostly due to being in a relationship, and I felt torn that entire summer between two places i called home. this summer, however, i gave up an internship opportunity to come home and be with my family. 9 months was far too long to be away from the people i loved most in this world, and if i've learned anything in the short 20 years i've been alive, it is to always put my family first. i knew that this was the last summer missa would be living at home and we could be together before she went to college. my cousins were growing up so fast, and i needed to be around for this. my grandparents were getting older, and i wouldn't miss talking to my meme and papa for anything.
that has been one of the best parts of this summer: spending time with my grandparents. the stories they tell me, the wisdom that is injected into every conversations, the love that i feel from them is incomparable. i went to my papa's 50th class reunion and got to hear about his life as a child and how he grew up. these almost seventy year-old people talked about how they had been married for 50 something years and i sat back in my chair feeling extremely inexperienced, yet invigorated. i knew in that moment that i had so much to be excited about and an entire life ahead of me.
i had a sleep over with my 11 year old cousin, Lella, and i realized how big of an influence i was on her. i felt so humbled that a little girl looked up to me so much and marveled at everything i did. i talked to her about how important self love is, and how she would experience pain and heartbreak in her life, and love and uncertainty, and i felt like i knew a lot more than i thought i did. i also realized in that moment how great of a mother i would be someday. in all truth, i was the one who was completely enamored and in awe of Lella. she had come closer to death than most people ever could imagine, and she was still the most exuberantly lovely little girl you could ever meet. she is really something special and i hope so badly that she always recognizes that.
i got to work in the fields all of May and June, planting hemp for my dad, under an extremely intense sun with my sister and my cousin, Doyle. we talked and laughed for two entire months, and i realized that we were all grown up. i remembered Doyle's first day of kindergarten, when i fixed his hair into a mohawk, and helped him brush his teeth. he texted me one day after work about advice on how to ask a girl he liked out, and my heart sank as i realized that this sweet boy that i loved so much was no longer that sweet little boy i had grown up with; he was a man, and the best man you would ever meet. i knew that boy would treat every girl he ever met like she was the Milky Way and he was just another one of the stars in the sky. i credited his character so much to my aunt and uncle, two of the most amazing people in my life, and of course my sisters and i, who taught him how to respect a woman.
i've spent everyday studying vigorously for the LSAT, because i realized exactly what i was meant to do and what i was good at: helping people and arguing. i knew i would be such an incredible criminal attorney, and so working to achieve this goal was so satisfying.
i have been able to spend every single day with my best friend in the entire world/ little sister, and i truly do not think i would trade that for anything in this world. i wake up to her across the hall from me every morning, eat breakfast with her, run and play soccer and lift weights, talk about deep subject matters, cry with her when we are hurt, and laugh with her more than we both breathe. i will never forget this time i'm spending with her before she goes out into the world and touches every person's life in such a special way as she has done mine.
i get to stay up late talking with my mom and laying out in the sun with her and i realize how similar we are and how happy that makes me. i get to see my dad, my hero, everyday after he comes home from a long day of working for our family. his hands have calloused and dry from working from dawn until dusk, and i feel so much love for this person that i cannot ever begin to explain it.
i realize that this summer is the type of summer that even though everything around me in my life is rapidly changing, some things will never change, my constants, the people i love more than my entire being can ever possibly fathom.
as i prepare to go back to college, i won't forget to think about where i came from and who helped me get here.

Day 10: Leaving London, returning home

     The first thing I wanted to do when I got back to America was eat Taco Bell. This sounds rather ridiculous, but I missed the comfort foods that I had at home that you couldn't find in the UK.
     I had been to three different countries in the past ten days; I had gotten lost but I had also been found; I had seen the ceremony of soldiers at Buckingham Palace; I had witnessed the blooming tulips in Holland; I had smoked a joint by the canals of Amsterdam; I had stood amongst the pools in the Roman Bath House; I had marveled at the architecture and landscape of Cambridge; I had stood in the exact same spot where Jane Austen has lived; I had sipped tea on the balcony of Dublin Castle; I had wandered in awe in the Long Library; I was a new person with so many new experiences that I would never forget.
     If I learned one thing from that trip, it was to never pass up an opportunity to travel or experience something new, no matter how scary or uncomfortable it may be. No thing or materialistic item could ever measure up to the worth of experiences, and I knew this for certain now.
     I stepped on the plane, ready for the 10 hour flight ahead of me. I was jet lagged, exhausted, but so alive. I was stuck with a middle seat on the plane, and therefore didn't sleep at all. We landed in Charlotte, North Carolina. I had a chicken sandwich in the airport, and I felt like I was already home. I realized that I wouldn't ever take the little comforts of America or home for granted ever again. I was truly blessed to grow up in the U.S. and I now could recognize this.
     I had a three hour layover in Charlotte, and tried to figure out who would pick me up from DIA when I got back. This was the only part of the trip I didn't plan out, and it was a lot harder to find someone than I thought it would be. Everyone was still gone or coming back from spring break. I finally arranged for a friend to pick me up at the airport right before I boarded the plane.
     I realized that I would be in Colorado in just three hours, and I was so happy. When I landed, I rushed off the plane to baggage claim, and was greeted by my friends, Stephen and Dylan. We went straight from DIA to Vudoo Donuts, and the terrible eating trend continued even back in America.
     I was just relieved to be home and be surrounded by familiar faces and places. That trip made me cherish where I lived even more than I had before.
      I finally got home that night around 10 p.m., and even though it was morning time back in London, I crashed. I was so sleep deprived that I couldn't keep my eyes open for even a second longer.
     The next day, the Sunday before classes started back up again after spring break, I slept the entire day until 6 p.m., neglecting all of the homework that I hadn't done over break. I desperately needed to sleep, and when I woke up, I felt like I could possibly do it all again.
     The weeks to come involved me plotting my next adventure, that is, when I had more money. I would be living off of cereal for the next few months, but it was worth it.
     That trip will always be one of the most epic experiences of my lifetime, and I cannot wait to travel again. I feel like traveling opens up your eyes to other cultures in a way that reading about them cannot. I'm grateful for the ten days that I spent in London, the Netherlands, and Ireland. I will never forget these places, the people, or the experiences that I had.
     Whenever you get the chance to travel, do it.
   

Day 9: The last day in London

     For our last day, we decided to stay in London and explore some more instead of trying to go somewhere else. We slept in again, exhausted from the previous days, and woke up in time to have brunch. Kayla wanted to take us to a place called "The Breakfast Club" in the central part of London by the marketplace.
     This restaurant was like the European version of Snooze here in Colorado. I loved it so much, and I prepared myself to spend a lot of money to eat a large meal. I order Huevos Rancheros (London style) and a stack of three pancakes with berries. The coffee and the meal was amazing, and I was so stuffed that I had to unzip my skirt a bit to be able to even move around.
     After our meal, we went to the marketplace and looked at all of the vendors, but soon decided that we wanted to make it to the Tower Bridge before the day was over. This bridge 'towered' over the entire city and was so massive. We got 99 ice cream cones, and planned where we would go to next while admiring the bridge and its surroundings.
     We had high tea that afternoon at a place in Covent Garden, and I realized why Europeans did this. It was so relaxing. I drank Earl Grey tea, and ate the pastries and sandwiches that we were served until I was once again stuffed. We sat there talking and laughing, and I felt so blessed to have such great friends that I could explore the world with.
     After high tea, we decided to go to Hyde Park and watch the sunset, since it wasn't that far away. As we sat in the grass surrounded by other people who had also come there to watch the sunset, I felt a pang of sadness. Our trip was coming to an end. Although I was ready to be back in America, see my family and be surrounded by familiarity, I didn't want to leave this place.
     We went back to Holloway Road and I bought chocolate bars from Sansburry's and we got meat pies from Pieburry Corner. As you can imagine, I gained a few pounds from this trip, but the food was so good not to indulge myself. We went back to Arsenal station and our Airbnb and ate the meat pies in our room. We did not want to say goodbye to Kayla, but I felt so much better knowing where she was and seeing how happy she was.
     All three of us stayed up for hours talking and laughing, and we decided that it was time for us to go to sleep if we wanted to catch our flight back home the next day and not be exhausted.
     I went to sleep that night feeling full of experiences, and so content with this trip. I had seen all the sights I wanted to see, and I reminisced on the past nine days of my life. I knew that this wouldn't be the only time that I would visit Europe, and I decided in that moment that the next time I came back, I would stay for much longer.
     I felt like an entirely new person.