one step forward

Progress can be tricky.

Tricky because it doesn't necessarily happen in a linear way. One step forward, two steps back. A turn here, a turn there. Unexpected twists that throw you back into the past. It's interesting how as you get older, the cliches start becoming truer and truer. A friend pointed this out, addressing the fact that human behavior becomes so predictable. Feel good about yourself, only to feel bad about yourself. Get what you want, and then feel like you aren't worthy of it. Do the exact thing that you know you shouldn't, even when it causes problems. 

With exciting prospects on the horizon, I found myself running in the opposite direction. Back into the arms of old habits, patterns of emotional overload. Hello subconscious. And so to provide a break from my current state, I got on my phone. Before I knew it, Indio was in my hand. Coachella at its finest. Viewed through many a filter and hazy perspectives. 

After scrolling I found myself wishing that I was at the festival. Wanting my biggest problem to be my outfit, cell reception and pool party schedule. Coordinating plans between stages and friends. Sharing drinks and sounds as the sun sets over the desert. I wanted to be 23 again, hand in hand with my bestie. Tiny white shorts that end up getting dirty as night falls. Shoes off, hair up and eyeliner reapplied in those mobile bathroom mirrors. Boys matter, but also not that much. Faces come and go, just as quickly as Friday turns into Saturday, Saturday into Sunday. When will teleporting through the iPhone be a thing? 

Eventually I had to shake myself out of the wanting. Realizing that I chose another path for the weekend. A trip that never came into fruition because because because (self sabotage). No Portland, no festival- just fomo and broken plans. Oh how life was easier when party drugs and sunrise walks home were the answers to my woes.

Photo by Patricia Manfield 

Kenna Conway