Four Miles from the Ocean

I disappeared from social media for a little while, and the reason was simple: I was busy moving. As much as I wanted to film content and document the whole process, I just couldn't. I was completely exhausted.

It's been only a little over a week since I started packing my belongings, yet it feels like an entire lifetime has passed. More than that, it almost feels as if I was living in a different reality. I wasn't scrolling through social media, I wasn't posting anything, and I put my entire online life on hold.

But I know it's time to come back. It's time to return and continue building everything I've been working toward. And I'm convinced that this new place will help me do exactly that.

Let me start with the move itself. I disassembled all of my furniture and packed everything on my own. Not because I had nobody to ask for help, but because I'm the kind of person who says, "Don't touch it, I'll do it myself," the moment someone does something differently than I would. And honestly, I simply don't like people touching my things. Lol.

I had no idea packing would take so much time. I spent two full days packing and still didn't finish. The night before the move, I stayed awake until 2 a.m., sorting, packing, and carrying things around until I was completely drained. I managed to get three hours of sleep, woke up at 5 a.m., and continued packing because the movers were scheduled to arrive between 9 and 10. Some things had to be left for later. I simply ran out of time — and out of boxes.

Once everything had been moved, I unpacked a few boxes and then drove back to the apartment. Most of what remained was clothing, shoes, and a handful of smaller items, but I still ended up filling the entire trunk and back seat of my car. That was one moment when I definitely wouldn't have minded having some help. Lol.

My first night in the new house was spent on a couch where I couldn't even fully stretch my legs. It was simply easier to assemble than the bed, and given how exhausted I was, I chose the lesser of two evils. The couch and the TV were the first things I set up.

The next morning, after breakfast, I started assembling furniture. The hallway and kitchen floors were covered with boxes, furniture parts, and random items. Total chaos. And I absolutely hate chaos.

On the second night, after finishing my shift at the club, I returned to the apartment one last time to collect the plants that hadn't fit in the car and the groceries I had forgotten. I prepared the apartment for move-out, washed the floors, and filmed everything so I would have proof of its condition. After everything that management had already put me through, I wasn't taking any chances. Around 5 a.m., I finally handed over the keys.

And just like that, on May 29, my time in that tiny apartment came to an end. The apartment where I lived with constant noise, endless stress, and repeated violations of my rights. Honestly, it felt like I could finally breathe again.

I moved into a spacious two-bedroom house. The second bedroom has become my workspace. I now have a backyard and a two-car garage. I no longer live in Los Angeles itself but in a neighboring city, and the difference is impossible not to notice The atmosphere here is completely different, even though Downtown Los Angeles is only about twenty minutes away by car. My house is just four miles from the ocean, near Manhattan Beach. I've lived in Southern California for quite a while, but somehow this was my first time visiting that beach. Strangely enough, it reminded me of San Francisco.

What I'm trying to say is that the energy here feels different. It's calmer. It feels as though I've moved much farther away than twenty or thirty minutes. Sometimes it genuinely feels like I've relocated to another state entirely, and I can't really explain why.

And it's unbelievably quiet. The moment you leave the main road and drive through the residential streets, there are barely any cars and hardly any people around.

I truly love this place. And I sincerely hope that the next move I make from here will be into a home of my own. I'm tired of moving. This move threw me out of my normal routine for more than a week. It took me a week just to finish unpacking, and I'm still not done. There are so many things left to buy because this house gives me far more space than I've ever had before.

For me, this house represents a new chapter. A new stage of life.

When I look at this house, I don't just see a new place to live. I see another reminder of how far I've come since the day I arrived in America with almost nothing. I truly hope that the next move I make from here will be into a home of my own.

But for now, I'm exactly where I want to be. And I have a feeling that this new chapter is going to be the best one yet.