Diary Entry #2: California is not enough
A cool morning after a long hot week feels like the world has sobered up suddenly, overnight. It seems the hazy sunshine that fell on my skin just yesterday, and turned the little hairs on my arms into a golden brocade, was something I had imagined while intoxicated by my summer cravings.
I was fooled into dreaming of Bulgaria by the dry Bay Area air and the thirst it brings, and now the late April wind is cooling me down, waking me up for a day of plain reality, for a life that I know well and not the one I, for a short sunny minute, thought I actually might have.
Nostalgia is a fuckin' bitch.