I have 2 hours to spare on my flight to Rome from Paris. So here I am again, finding time to put my thoughts into words. It’s been a rocky few weeks, struggling with insecurities. Drowning in worry of the uncertainty that lies ahead. Giving power to negative thoughts as positive ones were seemingly way out of reach.

Santa Monica Pier was a magical as I remembered it to be. I first came here when I was 14 and I’ve dreamt about about revisiting it since. I found myself digging through my coin pouch for enough quarters for a cotton candy.

If you’re looking to read a cheery piece, please scroll beyond this post.