A couple months ago it was cold and bleak and pretty depressing. I was living in an apartment the size of a shoe box with an unhappy married couple who would scream at their downe skyndrome kid at 2 in the morning or yell at me for dropping a mushroom. I was never home, it was freezing outside and frankly everything looked bleak. I had no idea where I would be headed, what I would be doing in the next month.
Where is home? Home could be El Salvador and the warmth that awaited me. Home could be a new place. Home could be London. I wasn’t sure but I never knew if I would ever totally feel at home but I know that’s ok now.
So there I was , staying outside as long as possible in the cold , with barely any money and trying to make the best of things. And yet, the flowers started to bloom. And yet, I saw the Spring Palace in madrid twisted with newborn flowers. I would start to feel the sunshine peek through the clouds.
And there it was, a hope that things would get better. And it did. I moved into an apartment with amazing roomates, finally ridding myself of the ” curse” , things became clearer and a lot of other stuff ceased to be important. But I was stronger, and wiser, and knew I could stand on my two feet. Because hope always springs eternal.


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