all the beautiful boys are in copenhagen.

i spend alot of time trying to figure life out. trying to figure me out. trying to figure everyone else out......... i spend alot of time failing miserably. i have finally reached that tell-all stage of young adulthood where one is so lost that it feels as if the only remedy is hopping some mode of transit and drag-and-dropping yourself in the middle of the outskirts of your comfort zone. for me, this mental ghetto, has always been new york city... until i met a charming little english jerk, and realized, the world is bigger than the continent on which i was born.
for most of my life i saw america as a prison of sorts, as if the fact that i was born here bounds me to be stationed here forever. not so. i have been around the world, but the trips i took remained that and only that: trips. i dismissed the idea of abandoning my homeland and taking to a new one, by reason of familial conditioning and here again-- comfort zones.
america is comfortable.
i want to be uncomfortable.
i want to watch my step and look up at the sky and honestly scream that i know not one soul on the continent. i want to run into strangers on the street whilst daydreaming and get cursed out in a language i don't understand. i want to meet people, so many people. i want to know what once were just foreign strangers and make silly videos of bonfires and play music i cant pronounce and just... live. on dreams. and spaghettio's.
so this is what i will do.
and it will all start with a ridiculously extended period of running leaps, little debbies... and freedom.