I could scream so loud it would shatter my own skin

My computer broke down more than a year ago, and it’s been really challenging, actually almost impossible to get any work done… but oh well, I didn’t think it mattered because I thought so little of myself : like, why would anyone care if I just stopped doing what I was doing…

and what was I doing anyway ? I didn’t have a clear answer to that. I would just go out for fun and create some photos or video content, that I would then share here… but to what purpose ? I literally had none. I just knew I wanted, or more like, I needed to do things the most creative way that I could think of, but I didn’t want it to be meaningful or that deep. I wasn’t taking myself seriously in any way, so I didn’t want anyone to think that of myself.

I abandoned everything pretty much, even though it didn’t happen in a day. Over time I just figured maybe I’m not good enough for any of my dreams, that it’s not actually worth it to waste my time (as if my time was that important that I should be careful of what I’m spending it on) on things that are unreachable to a person like me… someone who just doesn’t have what it takes to take her ambitions further any line. So I declared myself to be incapable to be like those iconic people I was admiring, and who were ultimately motivating me still to keep on dreaming.

And that was so easy, to let go of myself, that it became scary… somehow a terrible fright installed itself in me, so profoundly that it unabled me to try and succeed at anything that could potentially get me out of what had become, a depressive state. I didn’t look the part, but I was and still am unhappy because of my life choices. My entire life I’ve been scared of abandonment, and it ended being me who did this to myself. I’ve never been so hurt as to realize how bad things got because I led them to it.

This is a long torpor I’m trying to get over. I’ve been awake for a few moments while in it, but it’s taken control. No matter how many times I wake up, it pulls me back to drown me again… and I feel like I’m a good swimmer, but most of the times it doesn’t help. I’m on my way home now, I can see the shore. I just need to keep swimming and if only I can reach it, then I believe I can save myself.

It all always mattered, I just wouldn’t have faith in me. Those small, or big, or whatever size that dreams can be, we’re all entitled to try and nothing should make us doubt we can’t have them become a reality. They’re as real as we are. So long it’s in your head living, then you ought to birth it and gift it to the world. We all deserve to trust in ourselves more, and spread that amazing love that is ultimately what is saving me from those dark times I’ve been through.

It’s my boyfriend that makes me love myself more, and it’s empowering everything in my life. I’m going to turn this difficult period into something beautiful, create a bunch of butterflies to lift me up above. I have some good news, something that’s going to make a huge change in my future : I’m set on getting a new computer… and that means, I’m finally ready to invest in my dreams.

I ended up walking in socks in Beverly Hills

My Los Angeles Chronicles

Definitely, one of the craziest and most embarrassing moment of my life was that early afternoon, when I found myself in Beverly Hills walking in socks…

What a mess of a day that was !

Let’s rewind to the night before : my sister and I, went on a insane shopping spree on Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. We literally bought things we knew weren’t wearable, but just because they looked pretty on us, we went for it. I know what you’re thinking “girls…” and you’re right.

But anyway. The next morning I absolutely wanted to wear these new boots, that had at least 5 inch heels, I got from Jeffrey Campbell. I was completely oblivious of the fact of course, that I don’t usually wear heels, much less as high as those, because all I could think about is how cool they would look on my feet & how I wanted to rock my outfit with them.

We planned to spend our day in Beverly Hills, to check out some stores on Rodeo Drive and we decided to book an Uber to come pick us up, because there was no way I was surviving with those boots on public transportation… at least I was aware of that.

Our first stop was at the Levi’s store nearby, we both needed new jeans, I wanted a jacket for fall and everything went awesome, they even had sales going on. We really found all that we could wish for ! We were so pumped about our shopping findings that we went to Sephora after, to see what were the latest makeup arrivals they had. & when we were done with that, the excitement faded a little bit because we were both hungry and that’s when I started to feel very uncomfortable in my shoes.

We were on Rodeo Drive at that moment, next to the Harry Winston store and I couldn’t go any further. I stopped there and said to my sister “ouch ! I can’t walk anymore !” – it was sudden, all it took was an instant to become painful to an extreme, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My sister replied I was being a big baby because she thought I was exaggerating, but it was as if my feet were bleeding. These boots were pure torture and I wanted to cry.

My sister got really worried for me after she understood I was being dead serious, she told me to take them off. I categorically did not want to do that… I mean, can you even imagine how embarrassing the idea of walking shoeless on the most expensive street in Los Angeles appeared to me ? I could have started crying at that suggestion as well, but I had no choice.

I couldn’t move my feet in those boots, walking was unimaginable. My sister saw my dilemma, and told me not to worry she was getting us an Uber out of here, then she helped me take the shoes off. I only walked a couple footsteps in socks, before getting in the car. We arrived at the Target next to Beverly Grove, because that’s the destination she entered for the driver; she had the idea to buy me a pair of flat sneakers to survive the day (ps. yes, she is the best person in the universe).

I felt a lot better once we got inside of Target, nobody looked like they cared I was shoeless, which was amazing ! I literally walked from the parking lot to the building, and everywhere in the store just like that… without any shoes on, and people were okay with it. It was such a relief, the embarrassment I felt at first was completely gone. I became hyper-excited about this crazy-ass situation, I was even dancing and making jokes and acting like a total child; it was so much fun !

Actually, walking without shoes felt freeing, and I think everyone should try at least once in their lives, but maybe not in a highly touristic area like Rodeo Drive, with so many luxury stores around and people dressed fancy. They should still try it in an unusual place, but rather like Target… You know what, everyone should have a day a year to celebrate my made-up shoeless movement, and have whoever’s on it with “the secret” walk in socks all over town. Just imagine the faces of the people who wouldn’t know what the hell is happening. It can’t get better than that.

But I’m digressing, let’s go back to my story so I can finish writing it.

We ended up not buying shoes, because obviously I didn’t need any : walking in socks was just fine ! We went back home after getting some groceries, and stayed in for the rest of the afternoon, until my feet could bare shoes again. I put on my Lo-Pro Vans, which I wear like Slip-Ons, they’re super comfortable, then we went out for dinner at CPK (California Pizza Kitchen) which is my favorite restaurant. After all the misery I went through that day, I deserved a pizza !

Lost on my first day of school

My Los Angeles Chronicles

You know what people always tell you before your first day of school officially starts ? Don’t get lost ! For some reason, that has always been my greatest fear… I’ve been careful before, and it never happened to me, except the day I really needed to know my way back home.

Here’s how things took place for me that day; I had just moved to L.A. for the first time in my life, I knew nothing about the city and its surroundings, or how anything worked there. I came from Paris in France, just a day prior the start of a new school year and I was so confused about everything, that my host mom drove me to school on my first day.

Now I remember very well how she said “I hope you memorized my directions for your way back” but what I couldn’t actually recall was the discussion itself – give me a break you guys, I was completely jet lagged and whatever she talked to me about, it all sounded incoherent. I just kind of smiled then, and got out of the car… to meet my new teachers and schoolmates.

The day went by full of adventures, we took a party bus to tour Los Angeles, so imagine my excitement and the fun I had ! It was only when the time finally came to go back home, that I realized “hum, I am in the shits” I didn’t know where was my home ? if you’re familiar with L.A. you know how huge it is : it’s literally an ensemble of cities within, that form this large megalopolis.

I knew where my school was for sure, because they repeated “Redondo Beach” like a hundred times during the day. I also remembered that my host mom was not living in Redondo Beach, but this was as far as my memory got me. That day. I didn’t have much of a choice but to hop on the 232 bus heading south, cruising Pacific Coast Highway, and try to guess on the way, in what city my new home could potentially be.

I was heading to disaster, and unfortunately I predicted that situation since the moment I got out my host mom’s car earlier that morning. Sometimes, people (and by people I mean me) do things (by things I mean STUPID ones) without thinking about it (and by that I mean, not thinking at all).

I wasn’t used to these large american road distances, the bus trip seemed to take forever and from the timetable I was desperately looking at, I saw on the map that the route ended in Long Beach… which was definitively its own city, not part of Los Angeles anymore ! I freaked out, and without an ounce of self-control in me, I got out of that freaking hell-ride on the next stop.

When the bus left, I had no idea where I was. The sun was burning hot, nothing around me looked familiar, and I had no way of contacting someone because my phone had died… which was so practical on top of everything else happening at that moment in my life. I felt miserable and started walking without a clue.

There was a bunch of drivers honking at me and trying to get my attention, while I was walking on the sidewalk; it made me feel really uncomfortable, and because I was absolutely not used to these type of aggressive behaviors, I thought I was lost in an unsafe area of Los Angeles. It creeped me out because my parents warned me about bad neighborhoods.

My dear parents, whom I wished were there to help me out, were actually on another continent across a freaking ocean… talk about being lost, I was 9,000 km away from my family. I was beat from fatigue and heat exhaustion, at that point everything seemed hostile but I couldn’t give up there, and do what ? I pulled myself together, because I had to solve this issue on my own.

Then, just as I was being a bit more brave about this series of unfortunate circumstances, a real life biker on a Harley Davidson stopped next to me and asked if I wanted a ride. I had never seen a guy dressed like that, except on TV depicted as criminals. It was out of the question I was getting on his motorcycle, even though he looked cool. I lied my way out of this one, saying I wasn’t far & thanking the dude so I don’t get in trouble.

I walked away pretending I was confident about my destination, while he stayed back for a moment probably checking me up on my bull(sh*t). Then I heard him start the engine and turn around. I paused right there to breath a huge sigh of relief, and let my heart calm down because it was racing like crazy.

When I looked up a little further, I saw a Papa John’s restaurant : and no I wasn’t starring at it because I was craving pizza, but because it looked oddly familiar. Then I remembered when my host mom was giving me directions to come back home, there was a pizza restaurant at the end of my street… I am so obsessed with pizzas, than of course the only direction I could remember was that; I knew my addiction to pizza would be useful one day !

After a ten-minutes walk up that street, a very nice family that was getting their groceries out of the car called me to ask if I was doing okay. They said I looked like a scared little puppy that got lost, and added if I needed something they would gladly help. I told them I was a student from Paris, and I couldn’t remember where my host mom lived. Their first reaction was “oh we love Paris !” then they asked me if I had the number of my school, or if I wanted a ride back there.

I pulled out a folder from my backpack, where I knew I had a paper handed by a teacher in the morning, with the school’s informations… a moment later the mother smiled and told me “there is your address, it’s two blocks away from here, you can see the building” – at that instant, I swear I was completely confounded and grateful !

I just replied that I had no idea, I had the address all along… I felt kind of silly for everything that happened, because there was even a map to guide me back home; but at the same time, since I never read school’s handovers, it makes sense I didn’t know about it, because that would have required for me to actually pay some attention to directions, or advices, or even warnings… and since I’m usually so over it, I didn’t do it this time either.

Everything concluded well at the end of the day. I got home to my worried host mom, who was upset my phone was unreachable (hum, oopsy ?) and after I narrated my adventures, we both laughed so much. It was funny to her that I wasn’t here for two days, but yet she would confirm I was the craziest student she had ever hosted. What was funny to me on the other hand, was that none of that would have happen if I was at least a tiny bit more attentive, but then again, where’s the fun in that.