Jesus Christ that's a pretty face, the kind you'd find on someone I could save

A line in one of my favorite Brand New songs goes: “Do you believe you’re missing out? That everything good is happening somewhere else?”
If you define “good” as: adventures under the sun and amongst the rich, beautiful, and terribly fashionable then to you that somewhere else is Miami.
I have a love/mildly love relationship with Miami.
Some days I love the atmosphere, the music, being topless on a beach.
And other days I feel so consumed by its superficiality. On those days I feel like this place and everyone in it is shallow, materialistic and pretentious. To some extent that’s true. But maybe those are the perils of living a life based on fun.

Other days I love walking to my car and being caught in a torrential downpour and laughing at the futility of trying to stay dry under a circle of vinyl. I will forever be a fan of the ocean. But the ocean is always lovely, except in New Jersey where it’s green and freezing sometimes. I could make the argument that the beach I went to in Rio trumps Ocean Drive, but it doesn’t really matter where you are as long as the sand is soft, the water is blue and the sun is warm.

Still, I do feel like I’m missing out; like i’m in an alternate universe that views self-awareness and knowledge as inferior to possessions and status. It rewards these external, shallow and ultimately temporary things, that when you really think about it, don’t matter in the long run. I’d rather die bursting with wisdom and experiences then with Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses and a great tan.

So in my opinion where is all the good stuff happening?
Everywhere.
New York City has an undeniable energy that engulfs you as soon as you step out onto those erratic street corners. Mexico is so marvelously varied. Ruins, slums, farms and mountains give way to lively cities with slick, (unnecessarily) grand architecture. The people are the essence of cool. I know I’m biased but it’s true. They’re always friendly and joke and laugh a lot even when they’re not drinking (which doesn’t tend to be very often).

Sidenote: Cancun and Cabo are not Mexico. These are the places tourists go to have their asses kissed and pretend they are getting some kind of cultural experience. I wish they cared that Mexico, Honduras and Guatemala have some of the most elaborate, breath-taking ruins. And there’s so many of them. It’s like mini Egypt all over the place down there. There are as many pyramids as there are churches in Europe. (Trust me I know, I must have seen every goddamn church in that bitch- and as many saint burial places as is humanly possible)

Aside from this Europe has its charms, even Paris (the French are actually really nice- I was not a fan of those damn Spaniards in Madrid however)
Everyone has been to a place where they know they will always feel a longing to return.
I tend to trust impulses, especially the ones for which there are no explanation whatsoever. I feel like such things are remnants from previous lives.
I know i'll return to Europe and South America
When I was there I felt there was definitely good stuff happening, but even so I think I’ll always hear this persistent annoyance clinging to my earlobe, telling me I’m missing out. Or maybe it’s just Jesse Lacey.