stream of consciousness.

North and South. Two opposites that seem to be connected in their center by some strange magnet that pushes them apart. I'm standing somewhere on that magnet, looking up, looking down.

Above me is my favorite Chinese restaurant in the whole world, sitting there in Palo Alto. My fluffy gray cat, Spunky, is licking her paws by the fire in early December. My dad is polishing his motorcycle and eating apples and peanut butter and avoiding sugar so he stays healthy and saves himself from diabetes. My mother is filling out crossword puzzles in pencil on the couch in the living room. My friends come running down the familiar sidewalk. They swing open the fridge and pull out the pitcher of water. We drive to the beach in Half Moon Bay and play frisbee until we get hungry again. San Francisco glistens from the big window in Marie's living room. We walk to our favorite French restaurant for lunch and we pace through the halls of our high school. Sometimes, we meet up with unfamiliar people. Sometimes we drive to Foster City to watch Disney movies with Brandon or go shopping at Target. Sometimes I spend time with Sammy. We laugh about the past. We cry about the present. We hope for the future. Ryan brings Bonne Sante sandwiches to my house and refuses to share. Evan always leaves his cup on my desk, where the condensation leaves rings in the wood. Brian used to come visit in the summer and we'd make dinner and laugh, like always. My mom comes home and takes me shopping. My friends treat my house like a playground. They do backflips in the front yard. We play with candles as they melt on the back porch.

I look in front of me. Southern California. Trendy shops and too much coffee running through my veins, making me jittery. Three feet of books, but I love to read them when I get the chance. The sun shines. Movie studios every mile or so. Rebecca comes home and we go out for dinner. Nina, Caroline, John and I watch America's Next Top Model and laugh at what we will never be. John wears stupid hats and runs away from everything. Nina smiles and behind that smile there is so much. Caroline dances. I wave at people on my walk to work. On my way back from the gym, I run into someone from my floor. I plan for the future. I pay for my future, everything is on a tab. The fashion magazines never arrive on time. When they finally get here, everyone is already wearing the tights and the platforms and the Ray Bans. I go to sleep smiling sometimes. I go to sleep frustrated. I go to sleep, wondering what I should have done, why I didn't. There is a comedy club where I once saw Will Arnett and a pregnant woman who made me want to have children one day. I fear my words have become speeches. And, yet, somehow, I feel like there might actually be something for me here. Despite the juxtapositions. Despite the things that are so glaringly missing. And I only have a month and a half to convince myself it's all worth coming back to.