I’m starting my third day off in Brooklyn, had quite the time yesterday lost in downtown on the ultimate hunt for cheesecake, I decided (once again) that I am entirely capable of finding my way through an entirely new city, which obviously isn’t possible if I’ve never been here and can’t tell north from south. I took the G down to Brooklyn, hopped off at Fulton, hopped on a random bus, hopped off that random bus once I realized I have no clue where that bus leads, certain it wouldn’t take me to my cake filled destination but I happened to jump off in an area where no people walked the streets, where tire stores and rims joints seemed to run the business game, strange men on street corners looking at me as if I didn’t belong. I wrapped my scarf around my head, attempting to look like a polish girl walking to the grocery store, and finally said fuck it, get out the GPS, don’t act tough when walking through the ghetto, just find your way to Juniors and get that delicious pumpkin cheesecake, a breakfast I so deserved.
GPS revealed me to be walking further away from my cake provider. I’m beginning to think when I feel inclined to walk a certain way, I’m best heading the opposite direction. It’s been the theme of my trip. Feel what I think I should do, and do the opposite. This mentality only applies to finding my way. It doesn’t apply to my writing.
I met with my lit agent and had a great lunch two days ago, talked about the proposal and plans for the first chapter, which I’d like to submit to her upon my return from Mexico. I have a “game plan,” a vision of execution, I know what I’d like to say, how to frame it, and writing it will be a matter of opening my heart on the foundation I lay, and letting it all out. Just do what feels right.
Whereas on todays adventure I will be doing what feels wrong. Which after a few turns just may start to feel right.