and this lady was looking at the gelato and she asked if I was planning on ordering any and I said “No, I’m just looking at it and imagining what it tastes like.” I was being 100% serious but in hindsight she probably thought I was a sarcastic bitch.
This is just me complaining because I'm not happy and whatever.
Florida is sticky and hot and it’s not home and it won’t ever be home and I miss Africa because that’s really home. And I don’t feel like I belong here and I know that’s such a whiny and dumb thing to say. But whatever person is sitting typing this is not real Rachel, it’s somebody else and she’s clean and wearing nice clothes and her hair and makeup look alright.
You don’t know me until I’m real, in my natural habitat, wearing a stained skirt and a dusty v-neck and torn up hoodie and a knit hat with ear flaps and nasty red converse and my hair is tangled and everywhere and my hands are permanently stained with dirt from shaking hands with countless smiling Zambians and dancing in circles with their children:
^^^[I should just go to class like that]
It’s easy, after 16 years of school, to fall into the trap of thinking that it’s all there is to life. When I finally get all this learning done I’m going to go learn how to be real again.
Instead of trying to catch up with 7 weeks worth of your posts...
I’m just going to post something myself and start from here.
So. Hi Tumblr! I sort of missed you. As much as I can miss anything while I’m in Africa. Which is not a whole lot I guess. Please don’t be offended, Tumblr. I didn’t really miss anything while I was gone, except for washing myself in something besides the community long drop.
I’m driving to Florida now. New Orleans tonight with Michael and Poopy. Gonna have ourselves a time.
That is a mild update on my life and I shall post again shortly.