sooo it's been a veryyy long time since i've written, which makes me sad because writing is so cathartic and cus i haven't really updated anyone on my sydney life.... but here i am again -- funemployed and ready to hit the road before i *finally* head back home (SURPRISE!)
yepp.. after 2 years away from NYC, i finally feel ready to go back home. tbh.. it's probably a stupid decision, especially now that we have a sexual predator as our president (in addition to being a racist, homophobic, xenophobic bloated cheeto) but i've been struggling with watching our democracy fall apart from the distance..
so here i go.. running back into a burning building. WHY? because history will eventually demand to know what side i stood on. and i can't stand to think of myself as a mere spectator on the sidelines. (even if i'm been attending protests & lectures in Aus,)
on a similar tangent, i've recently been reflecting on my life and whether it's had any real meaning. there was an article published in the Atlantic ages ago, "There's More to Life Than Being Happy," that talks about the differences between pursuing a happy life versus a meaningful one. "By putting aside our selfish interests to serve someone or something larger than ourselves -- by devoting our lives to "giving" rather than "taking" -- we are not only expressing our fundamental humanity, but are also acknowledging that that there is more to the good life than the pursuit of simple happiness."
i think everyone that knows me IRL knows that I'm usually a very smiley person.. i've led a very happppy life (#blessed), which includes my current journey that has basically been a pure selfish/hedonistic pursuit... (see image below)
but what now? how can i use my privileged position to help alleviate a tiny, itsy bitsy bit of the crushing agony so many people in our world suffer through on a daily basis? what can i do as a human being to make the world a better place? what legacy do i want to leave behind? and what am i willing to sacrifice?? because the people that i think lived the most meaningful lives are the ones who also suffered immensely for the greater good of their cause -- and i'm not sure if i can do that..... (please, however, see belowwwww for Danny, my favourite Sydneysider/human rights activist/best sign maker in the world/future me)
(YES, i know how western saviour of me.... i'm also aware i've used *I* like a million times which sort of contradicts this seemingly altruistic desire but this is *MY SEARCH FOR MEANING AND DOING GOOD* and it is, at the end of the day, all about me and how *i* feel (wah wah wah) and it's also *MY* blog.. but anyway, i think its important for me to start with own country first and foremost because i'm not blinded to the issues we have at home... which is how we ended up with a President Trump (TEARS)
But I digress.. I should probably talk about the place that was my home for seven months -- Sydney! WHAT. A. BABE.
"VIEWSSS" (as drake woudl say.) there's always scenic views and beautiful nature just a short bus/ferry/train ride away... i'm a beach bum (literalllllllly. there's always sand stuck in the crevices) and sydney/nsw/australia have some of the best ones in the world!!
I mean seriously.. the beautiful bondi to coogee coastal walk was just blocks away from my apartment -- how lucky am i? (and how crazy am i to give that up.. WHAT AN IDIOT.)
Sydney is a stunner -- filled with lots of pretty sights and beautiful people *BUT* the things i loveeeeeeeddd about sydney siders were also the things i found most frustrating. i mean they're sooooooooo chilllllled and laidback (because they're so isolated from a lot of the world's problems)..... but on the other hand THEY'RE SO CHILLED AND LAIDBACK (AND THE WORLD IS GOING TO SHIT SO HAVE A LITTLE MORE EMOTION PEPOPLE.) i swear i've never felt like more of a neurotic New Yorker than in Sydney...
i've always joked that on my train ride to work in sydney, the only source of entertainment was watching women put on makeup in the morning (plus my dude danny!!)... commuters were cordial (but silent) and they'd keep a respectful distance from the next straphanger. trains were clean and orderly, the ac was always running and there were only *minor* delays... basically it was perfect.
subway rides in NYC however, are fucking chaotic. there are usually delays, odd smells, and weird creatures (both animal and human kind) that are alllllll up in your business (manspreading) You'll usually encounter a marachi band, a gospel choir, a magician, a beat boxer, a group of breakdancers and/or a crazy homeless on your commute. It's nuts but it's interesting (and imho, builds character.) And sometimes magic happens... (see below and also check out @subwaycreatures on Instagram.)
and that in a nutshell describes the differences between the two places for me... pretty, perfect sydney and crazy, chaotic new york. and at the end of the day... i choose crazy. It probably doesn't make sense to most people, but i'm a New Yorker and at the end of the day. I thrive off the insanity (probs cus I am by nature, a crazy person.)... and even with all the bullshit that happens, i live for those rare instances where humanity shines at its best. Sydney is not MY home.. my heart (along with my friends and family) are back home.
but that's not to say that i haven't built a life in sydney... at some point, Sydney has become a home. I'm not sure when it happened, but i’m guessing it was somewhere among the sloppy nights at El Topo followed by painful mornings at the office (B&Es please), boogies at Arq with my favourite fuckers, unconsciously spelling favorites as favourites, beers on the Perch, strolls and swims to Bronte, drives to the coast where i’d #FreeTheNipple, waving hi to danny lim on my way to work (hero), caps at sweaty warehouse parties, random raves on the beach, sunsets while swimming in rock pools, #theroseway (all day every day), sushi train & pub lunches, picnics at the park, Gogglebox episodes, aeprol spritzes, wine and cheese platters, entering lemons for limes at Coles, chatting up footy players with “nice” rigs (also learning what a rig was and what/who were wogs), countless long blacks and flat whites at cute little cafes, fucking an australian on australia day (that's a cultural tradition right?), instinctively asking “How ya going” instead of “How ya doing?”, and kick ons at friend’s places… it's become a place full of fond memories and amazing friends.
And so, even though I'm going back home to NY, "I will never be completely at home again, because part of my heart always will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place." [insert eye roll, pinterest graphic, basic bitch sunset photo]