Where to, now

Snuggled crosslegged on the chair she constantly fights for possession with that white hissy creature, she props her elbows on the table as head support while she begins her wishful thinkings. The smell of hazelnut latte is aromatic and therapeutic, yet nothing beats a hot glass of soy chai latte at diggies by the beach. There is something beautiful about this place which she has grown to love. The next transition occassionally pops up in her mind, but it is forcefully pushed back. She does not want to leave, not yet. But circumstances sometimes win over what you want.

Confused. Complicated. Crushed.