Musings from Downtown LA

Sometimes life feels weird and sad, maybe because you’ve been grieving an irreparable loss or maybe for a million other reasons or none at all. You’re tempted to do something exciting and unexpected, like book an impromptu solo stay at a nice hotel in the city you live in. The half-baked goal is to renew your relationship with yourself and your surroundings, but you start to worry it won’t be worth it and the whole idea begins to feel silly and privileged, especially considering everything horrible that’s going on in the world outside your bubble.

But you do it anyway because you told yourself you would (and also it’s non- refundable, so you kinda have to). Then it turns out to be full of surprises and better than you could’ve ever expected, maybe because you really decide to show up for it. You make a point to do all the things you love and some new unexpected things, like riding a scooter back to your hotel after dark and lazing solo in the pool, taking in the skyline while swaths of dressed up people enjoy their fancy dinners together right beside you. Nobody knows who you are, so it’s kind of like you exist in a different universe where there’s no pressure to meet a certain energy level or be this or that. And when you check out the next day after milking every last minute you have, you take yourself out to lunch, then you make your way leisurely back to your real life. It’s still there as it was, but you’ve brought back a new memory to wrap up with all the others and carry forward, wherever you’re going. 

Anyway, that’s one way to handle things.

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