From Franklin to Bourbon Street: Copeland's Cheesecake Bistro is borderline garbage

A friend recently sent me a song he's been working on, and lately I haven't been able to stop listening to it. Though he clearly wrote it about a girl he met far from home, I can't help but apply it to Nola. He probably wouldn't be happy I posted his lyrics before he did himself, but we'll keep it a secret. Hopefully, he doesn't like to Google his own lyrics, haha.

I didn't want it when I had it, so I took it and I threw it away.

Now believe me when I say that

You're making it so hard to leave this place

Eventhough Carolina is so far away.

So, I won't believe 'em, won't believe what they say

You and I both know it's insane that I want you still

But I'm feeling like I'm starved for something real.

Oh yeah, I'm starved for something real

How does it feel to make me feel?

Don't leave this place, even if Carolina is so far away.

Interpretting the first line as not taking full advantage of all of Nola while I've been here, the rest is pretty self explanitory. I've learned a lot about real life here in New Orleans. A lot about the beauty of the world, the infinity of knowledge and things to learn about, as well as the tough-to-swallow realities of urban life, especially within the framework race and class; things that I've been starved of in Goldsboro and Chapel Hill. It took coming to New Orleans for me to really become aware of and indulge in this knowledge (you see what I'm doing there? Blending it with New Orleans rich food culture. Crafty, I know), and the thought of leaving so soon is kind of unsettling.

It's amazing how italics can create so much more drama and meaning, same with a black and white camera.