Comfort Zones and Newfound Devotions, Pt. 3

I'd be amiss to say that I don't love travelling, and that it's not totally awesome to see new places. However, as a freshly-baked American, I think my first step into subliminization is shaping up to be settling into a comfortable disdain for my fellow countrymen and women. I've seen a number of new places in my new land over the course of this year, and each has dealt me a fresh, disappointing blow in the face of my already difficult and self-deprecating reach toward patriotism. Point is this: upon each new return home (and as much as I do complain about it), this is the sight that fills me with a mountingly tremendous sense of relief.

So to you, New York, I say thank you. For being my home away from home away from home. For being a microcosm of civility and esoteric hermeticism. For being so vast in such a small space. And to all your boys and girls who put in such an effort every day to make the city even better looking.

And thank you to my friends. Not only the ones who made the trip to Vegas absolutely bearable, but all of you who have been so supportive during a difficult time. Thank you.



And most of all, most importantly... To my new friend the Bastard Martini.
Thanks for helping in Vegas, and let's definitely stay in touch.

My endless love,
Attica.