I am born from one million dreams, a farmer, and a Laos flag- well, half of one anyways. I talk about London not only as a dream, but as a part of me that I can never achieve. Because it has been 3 years since I have seen your smiling face not within a memory...so it goes.
My mother was a glowing ball of light in my life. If she was the sun, everyone is just a planet, revolving around her glow. And I'm a star, never measuring up to her beaming light. She was the sun, a sun that exploded into a million pieces, never to return again.
I live in the New York City hustle. My nightlight is the traffic and my lullaby is Time Square mania. I feel like I'm constantly run over by the cars, a roadblock at every turn.
Five more years Four more years
I'm counting every. single. day. Another day closer to my London fantasy, to leaving my life in the ditch, to reinventing myself however I choose to be.