Thursday night, Bruna, Daniel, and I went to our friend Ellie's apartment in Palermo for an asado. The view from her building is epic.
I guess I don't usually think of Buenos Aires as a massive city, simply because I've only ever experienced it from the ground. Actually that's a bad excuse. I'm not sure why I've always perceived it the way I have, but I was pleasantly surprised to be blown away by this view. So we ate and drank and danced on the beautiful rooftop till 2:30am [way too early for BsAs, but most of my friends here work or have school early].
Today, Bruna graduated from her fashion program at la escuela argentina de moda.
I didn't write about people in my blog when I was here last year, but things are different now. These people have become Buenos Aires to me. I am more here with them than I am here between these buildings and in these streets. And it just wouldn't make sense to exclude them this time as my trip is composed almost entirely of my experiences with them. Not that they weren't my trip last time, but we were all so newly acquainted that it felt a little strange to talk about them so intimately in a public space.
Things are calming a little bit in my brain. I no longer feel the urge to puke when I see Coto. My ghost only haunts me every once in awhile now. I've figured out a new plan for breakfast. Most days, I've been walking to la tienda de las medialunas and buying enough to last two mornings. Sometimes I go downstairs to Cilantro for coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice while I read. Finding perfect music helped. I knew a few new albums had dropped recently, so I checked iTunes and found the new Okkervil River and The National's single from Portal 2. My spirits were immediately lifted. You wouldn't be able to tell that from the outside though, as I started crying immediately during "Exile Vilify." I couldn't have asked for a more perfect song in this place in this moment. And every time I listen to it [which is about ten hundred times a day], my heart swells with that feeling I have never been able to accurately describe [I never know if it's because I'm failing words or words are failing me].
I'm trying to remind myself that I'm here to breathe, relax, and explode with infinity. But I feel like I shouldn't have to remind myself of those things. They should just be happening. Seems to be the theme of the last year of my life since I left here in May '10. Every major thing I've done since then has changed my life in a good way, but every thing I've done since then has also been a huge struggle. Maybe the weight I'm feeling here is the culmination of all these past months, collapsing into this present away from everything else I know. I know this is a good thing. I know it. And as soon as I have to stop reminding myself of that, I'll be ok.
does it feel like a trial?
does it trouble your mind
the way you trouble mine?