When we are honest on social media, people often point that you will have a good time, try do x, y, z. Social media often forces us, and in turn makes us only comfortable, with things that are often painted in a positive light.

This can be seen everywhere, how many times have you liked a picture of your friend with a baby, commented on it, or their adorable dog or travel adventure, but passed the friend who is hurting, or posting something that we deem as “negative.”

Honesty, vulnerability. These concepts make us uncomfortable. Although, we all claim to want honesty, vulnerability and GASP authenticity. But what if all those things, as a reader make you feel uncomfortable?

What if sharing them, as the writer, makes me feel uncomfortable too? The human experience is more than just a glossy picture book of your highlights. You can have an awful day and still have a good time. We are emotional centered creatures and sometimes, as I learned from a good friend today, you can’t rationalize away emotions. They are just that, emotions.

Has my experienced changed since my first post? Sure, but despite that I am leaning into the uncomfortable experience, it is still a less than ideal situation. And in that, you start to explore the inner psyche a little more.

I think this may be quicker than therapy. (I joke, I joke).

I’ve spent many evenings (except tonight, as I needed a break) going to a local pub called Ryan, named after a good friend. Drinking Guinness and enjoying the atmosphere. The place is a little more quiet and relaxed, and I like that. Also the bathrooms are really nice, which is always a plus. Seriously, nothing sucks more than drinking and having to use a shit bathroom.

This experience makes me laugh—I’ve dreamt of being a travel blogger, it often looks so wonderful and beautiful, full of positivity, exploration and spiritual change. What a load of horse maneur.

The nihilistic travel blogger. That would be my niche.

I’d throw a little glitter in.

 

Last night, at Ryan’s (as mentioned above), I had a delightful lengthy conversation with two Italian lovers and tourists. We talked about everything from travel to love to even *gasp* politics.

It was a joyous time and we drank heavily. Ate a shitty pizza and called it a night.

Today I awoke in a sour mood, my emotions heavy upon me, eyes heavy with tears. I took a two hour buss ride to an estate known as “Ardgillan Castle” (Hard G, d on’t make that mistake). It was gorgeous, the grounds were breathtaking and the gardens were such a great mix between efficiency, and design & the forest was a great mix between it being a food forest and one pleasant to the eye.

Basically goals.

As a child I watched “The Secret Garden” more times than I care to admit, and even now as an adult i find myself watching it at least once a  year.  It is such a joy.

 

Also, there was a dog friendly Cafe, so I got to pet a dog. That brightened my mood.

 

Tomorrow I am heading to Wicklow. I’ll update more then. I have to catch the bus at 9:15 am. not too early, but early enough to try and get some sleep. (Damn these pillows, damn them and my stiff neck #QueenProblems)

Please do not conclude that my misery is making this trip unbearable. If anything, it is opening my eyes to the shadows that hide in the light & the clarity they bring.

“Dancing with the devil, call it respect, call it fear. But we never allow the Devil to the party.”

Don’t worry he’s not coming home with me. He stays in Ireland.