i was exploring slivers of unknown territory — collecting freckle constellations and smiling wide, often with my tongue out. these greenish-blue eyeballs leaked like an old darn water spigot but i swear they saw beautiful things. a blurry trail of magic swirled behind me, leaving nothing but a subtle trace of Ambre Blends and high-pitched echos of laughter hahahah
if you’re reading this, Stunna was in two thousand eighteen.
it takes the shape of a place out west. i was dancing like a fool in the Lake Tahoe moonlight, wishing upon a shooting star with the bears in Yosemite, sipping hot coffee on a back porch in the Rocky Mountains, gambling down the infamous Las Vegas strip, fighting scorpions in the Mojave Desert and singing Hotel California at the top of my lungs. i traveled through a tricky time warp from the coast to the Heartland and back and back again.
trusting fate unwaveringly, i was caught somewhere between my “always-late” reputation and my belief in divine timing. our planet appeared gargantuan from the view at Glacier Point upon a Sierra Nevada cliff. the vastness slowly dwindled at the crossing of a few unexpected paths and especially rare connections — making it seem as if it is a small world after all.
experience proved that no amount of salty fries or spicy sprite could ever be enough to cure a hungover girl with an obsession for cinnamon-flavored whisky. the remedy was found in thrill-seeking chases towards fleeting rays in an evening golden hour. doses of bravery were vital and pure vulnerability soon followed on the quest to find a match.
undeniable signs flooded into gut-feelings and daydreams as God and His army of angels helped steer the way. perplexed by my unfolding story, i felt very alive as we came full circle around our fiery, yellow star.
if you’re still reading this, it’s two thousand nineteen now and my faith tells me it’s going to be another exhilarating revolution.
