Summer's ending. I'm 25. Washington Square Park and the oppressive humidity of New York City, I bid you all adieu.
This summer was weird. In June, I was funemployed. I did pilates. I drank green juice. I used aggressive self care as a coping mechanism.
In July, I read books. I still did pilates. I got food poisoning. I was in Southern California. I got bit 7 times on the face by a mosquito.
In August, I started a new job. I hated my new job. I cried a lot. Who am I? Why am I here? I road the train to Beacon and picked blueberries.
In September, it was my birthday! Oaxaca is magical. I felt like I was at the end of the earth. I still cried a lot. I found spirituality via an astrology app and really reveled in Virgo season energy.
Fall's coming, I'm still only 25. I still don't know anything about who I am.
