Kitty Power

Faraway, So Close

We’ve reached the quiet stage of the trip. Last night M3 ended in a big blast of a concert with Tortured Soul, Los Amigos Invisibles, Slam Dunk, Louie Vega, Eric Kupper, and Cirque de Soleil on some synchronized swimming tip. I floated around spinning with the ultra technicolor dress, working the strut, looking for something more than the crowd I was wandering with. I’ve been thinking to myself that I probably would’ve liked to have been one of the many catching their shuttles to the flights, sunglasses on and head slightly pounding from the hijinks. I got my headache yesterday from too much time in the sun and not enough sleep, but I had the energy on mid because it was only the halfway mark after all. I feel like I’ve been here for weeks, but I know the second I reach the NYC shores, it’ll feel like I could’ve stayed so much longer. The grass is always greener and all that.
Last night, we spotted The DJ who we’d seen once so far, though he’s running the same trip time we are. We got gobsmacked with why he’s made himself scarce and we couldn’t help but feel the sting. It’s something I couldn’t shake off and it’s still bothering me. Hmm…could that be related to the present trip blahness? Might be. I confirm or deny nothing. Meanwhile, we need another beach trip because all dispatches from NYC has us believing the sun will never shine there.

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