No strings attached

They say everything happens for a reason, and I believe them. Whoever "they" are. I think they know something the rest of us don't know, yet can sense, and therefore we follow their philosophical lead into convincing ourselves that our actions, whether ignorant or brilliant, are somehow justified. And somehow this belief eases our tempers and calms our minds. Sort of like an easy way out almost. And I am convinced there's truth in it all.
        Anyway...I made it to San Francisco. Then, because this city's public transportation system is functional and existent, I collected my 2.5 bags of a year's worth of belongings, found my friend Whoolee, and hopped aboard the BART (train/metro) toward Oakland. Twenty minutes or so later, after reaching our next destination (where we were to catch a bus) the BART doors were closing behind us as it tore off again and it was then I realized my phone was still sitting in the seat. To sum a lengthy afternoon up into a few lines, it was a grand adventure, I learned how the BART system works, I witnessed a good chunk of San Fran (perhaps not the best parts), and I realized that I am starting with a clean slate. New names, new faces, new stories, and new adventures. I did not find my phone, but I learned a lot. Yes, I learned that I should probably boost my responsibility levels at times, but also that I am a free bird with nothing holding me back. No contacts to start. Only plenty to create. And that feels good.
         San Fran grows on me every time I visit. Well, California in general. There are so many kinds of lifestyles, cultures, styles, and languages stirred together into a cauldron of beautiful diversity. Meanwhile, there's some underlying understanding here that stems from the city in general. It's something that you can't understand in other parts of the country unless you've lived in a big major city for a period of time. It opens my eyes to how little I know about societies and how they function, their expectations, their attitudes, their ways of thinking. It's the culture of city life. And it's crazy. The normalcy of unique individuals, germs, awesome people-watching, crime, small, yet expensive housing, graffiti, lack of vehicle ownership, constant entertainment, individualism and the freedom to express it in any way one feels is necessary, bad drivers, sketchy people, etc. I have so many questions, most of which most likely will not be answered. I wonder what it'd be like to grow up in a place like this. I am so curious. I need to spend more time here. In cities. Tomorrow will bring me a little more time to explore. Tonight has come to an end.    

The final moments...

I have dreamed of this day, this moment, since I was a little girl. Doing the things I've always wanted to do, but didn't have the time, money, wisdom, or freedom to do so. In some way,  I wasn't ready. I'm ready now. I've gone through such a spectrum of emotions to get to hits point. And they don't stop here. Each hour they change. My mind embraces some other idea or thought that I haven't been able to understand until that point. And it changes me. I love the feeling. It's different every time, and yes, in a way it's scary because it's unknown and I can't really control it, but it;s all part of the plan for my life. It's refreshing, inspiring, and it keeps me on my toes. There is nothing stagnant about it. Not like much of every day lives that we tend to live and watch go by. This is real. Each one of my senses is on full alert. At all times. And that is what living is all about. In my eyes. I feel alive. Like Pinocchio when he becomes a real boy. Like Tarzan learning about life in the city. Completely foreign and all-encompassing. So surreal. I feel it and I love it and I can't wait for lift off.