I said a hip-hop, the hippie the hippie
To the hip, hip hop you don't stop
Rock it to the bang bang boogie
Say up jump the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat
Now, what you hear is not a test I'm rappin' to the beat,
And me, the groove, and my friends are gonna try to move your feet
This is a story about a fairy, a fairy whose existence depended solely on others’ believing in her. She’s best known as Tinkerbelle, Peter Pan’s companion and sidekick.
Today I watched the sunset, my favorite luxury—In any location and in every home, I live for that sinking sun, that color pallet on the horizon. My small moments of watching the sun set into the horizon, or to the back of mountains, into the ocean or simply watching the light change colors on the trees, each resembles my idea of intangible gold.
Whatever it is that we think about our life is completely false. Whatever plans we make, whatever future scenarios we fantasize, it makes no difference. Defeated. We feel defeated by our own home.
For the past few weeks, I worked on adapting to a new lifestyle, a lifestyle strictly influenced by the world’s reaction to the pandemic. I actively worked on my view of the world, while analyzing personal life decisions. I am not one to regret past choices, I move forward regardless of the circumstances. But this time, I had finally accepted my reality—my altered reality.
Oh vitamin D, how I miss you old friend!