But how can you forget about a place confined by life sources?  How to forget the warm pacific waters bouncing off the rugged cliff sides? The comfort of the sun bleached sand clinging to your body as you’re lying down. The tall palm trees with its leaves waving in the wind. It’s heat that leaves you with blistered feet if you’re not careful.    



The people. The love. It’s culture. It’s struggles that “has been reduced to a memory” (http://allofthegoodblogaddressesaretaken.blogspot.com/). They pressed on.

Overall its…..

Image. A picture perfect place. You can’t look away. You want to be here. Engulfed in its world. It is here where hydration is quenched.

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Music. The musical connotation of happiness amongst its visitors. The energy of two worlds colliding. It is here where the sounds of music are heard day and night.



Text. The whispers of its romantic language. What is a text if not a tangible or intangible entity in which you find meaning. “The Text is experienced only in an activity of production” (Barthes, 157).  No two experiences are the same.



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There is no other place quite like this home. It is only here at this exact location. To be celebrated. To be reminisced. To be a part of.