The cheesiest post you will read all day: The place I will miss most when I leave. The place that saved me during my darkest times. To the mile high flea market, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. At my lowest points of life, I found joy in this parking lot. When I had $10 left to my name, I could go here and spend five to feel like a normal person. In the pits of my depressions, depressions that were 100% out of my control, I went to the Mile high flea market to smile. There isn’t a single place in this state that I have memorized quite the way I do the flea market. It’s a place where everyday people can go to buy everyday things with zero judgment. Leaving this place behind feels like leaving a piece of myself behind. It literally saved me. I can’t believe after 15 years in the same place, my biggest attachment is a glorified garage sale. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Knowing that this is my last time being here until I come back to visit definitely stings. When I leave, I kindly ask that everybody please take a day to go to my happy place to experience the joy that I did. That feeling of digging through what looks like a pile of garbage and unearthing a core childhood memory you forgot about. I feel so silly writing all of this, but I beg of you, go to the flea market! You’ll have a blast!
Bali, Indonesia > Gili Trawangan, Indonesia > Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam > Hanoi, Vietnam > Bangkok Thailand. One month of backpacking around the coolest continent I have ever been to. Although the adjustment of real life has been tough, the realization that Asia IS real life has been even tougher. I am so grateful for the experience, and anxiously await the next time I’m back. 🫰🫰🫰🫰
