In less than 72 hours I’ll be home. All alone for 30 days and in 6 different countries. During this time, I’ve experienced my very first heartbreak. I got lost countless times. Felt lost 100% of the time. I felt so weak being in a place where people couldnt understand me and would be rude to me. I’ve been robbed. Twice. First time I had my entire backpack stolen with 90% of all my belongings leaving me only with the clothes I was wearing, phone, ipad, my wallet, and my legal documents and tickets. The second time was in a hostel where someone ripped my locker door off its hinges and stole my ipad. But I’ve also experienced the best of people. I’ve received so much love, compassion and generosity on this trip that it brings me to tears just thinking about it. I now have enough clothes to get me by and fresh towels to use. People have housed me, fed me, and showed me around their homeplace. Strangers became my family and friends being there for me when I was discouraged, tired, saddened, and lonely. I’ve been told that travelling alone makes a person stronger. I feel the exact opposite. I feel so humbled, weak and powerless.
I don’t get how babies can cry at restaurants lol like nigga why you cryin there’s food around you rejoice