As much as I love my parents, I’m starting to realize that I’ve outgrown family vacations. While my parents enjoy visiting tourist attractions, my sister and I prefer to experience a city the way locals experience it. I think that traveling with my family makes me more inhibited. I wanted to take lots of photographs and write as much as possible during our trip to Washington, but we were constantly on the go and I hardly had time. I tend to be more social and talk to cab drivers, servers, and sales people when I’m by myself. That, to me, is the best part about exploring a new city: going on adventures, mingling with the locals and making friends.
So sometimes I get this thing when I get annoyed that someone isn’t interested on me, not because I want to date them or even like them, but just because I have a colossal ego and am offended when somebody can get over me so easily
And when her breath was done,
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.
Her little figure at the gate
The angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her
Upon the mortal side. Emily Dickinson, Selected Poems (via feellng)
Found some letters I had typed to ex-boyfriends from the past few years. All of them are very, very bad. I always wonder if anyone I’ve been with kept the letters I wrote them for nostalgia’s sake. Part of me hopes that they did, but a greater part of me prays that they didn’t, because they were really sentimental and cringe-worthy.