It was a TRIP indeed

• It was immediately clear that I was waiting for a flight going to France: I’m in line with no one close to me and this French dude shows up and stops right behind me, speakerphone blaring, not wearing a mask, speaking loudly. I move a few inches forward and this mf just moves accordingly, staying 10 inches from me. I leave and go to another line.
• I hadn’t been on a flight for a minute so they almost called HelpDesk when I failed to scan my boarding pass for 30 seconds straight.
• Aquaman in the plane was watery.
• We hit 995 km/h at some point on that flight, which is quite fast.
• Temperature/rain in Paris was about the same as in Los Angeles. Kind of odd.
• I couldn’t wait to see my dad. Masks on. Pandemic still fucking human moments left and right.
• We rode back home rather quietly. I couldn’t stop saying “wow” at all those changes and new buildings.
• My hometown streets felt like bicycle lanes, it’s so cute.
• My sister and my mom in my arms after the antigen test went “You Good”.
• Mom was so happy. Nine motherfucking years. Afghans refugees can go to Europe on foot and get to see their relatives back home faster than that.
• Realizing that many things here that I’ve known my whole life will end up being sold, demolished.
• Realizing my parents mortality like I had never felt it before.
• Realizing the same for my foster mom, hitting 86 this year.
• Fuck jetlag entirely because it’s really annoying.
• I’m sleeping in my teenage bedroom. Outside of my frantic typing, it is dead quiet.
• My beloved radiant heating floors. Goddamn.
• Smells from my closet, my clothes, the family house, nature violently bringing memories.
• Okay, now it really feels like it’s way colder here.
• Wine and stinky cheese at every possible occasion which is twice a day at the very least.
• My foster mom almost passed out when I showed up at 7 in the morning at her door.
• We’ve been talking for hours. I mean, she is and I nod back.
• Nothing has much changed in this little village. There’s something soothing about the consistency of that fact through decades.
• Gossips and alcohol are ruining everything, families, situations, futures.
• I haven’t seen the sun since leaving L.A.
• The road back to the family home was basically a river that I was at 75 mph on, passing trucks every 5 mn. Definitely tiring.
• I drive my dad’s Toyota RAV4 which feels like a Hummer on these tiny ass suburb streets.
• Quiche aux lardons so good.
• First normal night from 10pm to 7am, awake by street car so loud I thought there was a spaceship rapture-like event going on. It cleans the streets once a month?
• Went to Vincennes to go to my favorite little hat shop to get a new one.
• Traffic everywhere, so much construction I want to barf. It’s so dense it’s not possible to be denser. I can’t fucking stand it.
• More homelessness than I have ever seen on the periph’.
• Mom’s pot au feu soothes me a bit. Simple, tasty food FTW.
• Going through my boxes smelling exactly like when I left my apartment, I have to suppress memories if I want to make progress. Nine fucking years.
• I can wear everything I’ve been wearing since 1998.
• Joy of finding old items from my beautiful cream Stratocaster to shirts I loved to death and cassettes. All coming with me.
• The sun has been out for five minutes. Sort of.
• This constant thinly veiled French racist attitude, lol. Well, I had forgotten about it.
• Last supper is rabbit and a little parfait au chocolat.
• Dad has become addicted to chocolate, he tries to sling some to me at every occasion.
• I already have to get back to Cali. I barely sleep.
• I give my parents a kiss on the cheek for breakfast, we’re happy and sad. My presents drying on the rack in the other room.
• I say goodbye to mom and we head back to CDG with dad.
• 7am, crazy traffic, pitch black sky.
• We know CDG pretty well and still getting confused where to go.
• Dad drops me off at the curb. I want this moment when we hug and hold each other’s face to last forever. I feel his nicely trimmed, white facial hair over my fingers and try to absorb this moment as much as I can.
• He’s gone. I’m about to.
• CDG. Such a mess it deserves its own post. Or not.
• We take off, 45 seconds later I see the sun. I missed you, boi.
• I sleep the entire flight minus the last hour.
• We land. Los Angeles, its sun, its beautiful mountains covered in snow.
• Everything’s a breeze at LAX. I’m quickly back to my car. Robert Glasper playing J-DILLA starts playing and I start crying uncontrollably. It’s all good.
• The sensation that I just had a very vivid dream starts, but I know it was real.
• Back to my routines. I’m up at 6am the next day and shooting my basketball at 7am, before work.
• As always, I finish my session with a swish 3.

You know what love is? It’s effort. It’s focus. And I’m good at it.