Last night I landed up staying at a hostel- that had white linen. Honestly I have never been so excited in my life.
I have woken up and my horrendous flu is back and my head feels the size of a hot air balloon.
I’m planning to go to Golan heights today?
I’m starting to feel like a complete fool. What am I even trying to prove here? That I am brave or strong? Or maybe that I am not a spoilt brat? Or perhaps I am trying to prove to myself that I am capable despite the odds?
This is starting To seem like an incredibly narcissistic journey…
Like what the fuck are you trying to prove Danielle?
Find yourself? You find yourself in the ones you love. You can’t escape the truth, and you can’t runaway from yourself. You ate you. ‘Find yourself’ is possibly the biggest load of shit I have heard in my life. I know myself.
I love my life everyday. I am me and I sure as hell did not have to embark on this ridiculous journey to find me. Find yourself in your friends and family, find yourself in your lovers arms. Find yourself in your home and the nature that surrounds it.
You don’t have to be alone to find yourself.
You don’t have to set out in a moronic journey.
I thought I was going to go back home with journals filled with stories. Having read numerous books. Well I haven’t read one book, I hardly write, I don’t sit contemplating life.
Instead I scramble to figure out where to sleep. My shoulders and arms are in so much pain. My chest is tight and I’m coughing up insane amounts of yellow mucus. I don’t know what my next meal will be. I have like no money. I’m lugging a tent around that I haven’t used, that I don’t even know how to set up. I still waste money on binge food. I still love lipstick and I still kiss boys despite the fact that I have serious feelings for someone.
What am I trying to prove…