Between Conventions, Between Desires

Travel, for me, is never just tourism. It is the space between conventions — cafe stops, airport lounges, hotel mirrors in cities where nobody knows my name but everyone notices my chest.

I use my time and my money to chase the best Comic-Cons on the planet and to commission costumes that cost more than most people's cars. I do not need to work. I need to feel alive — and nothing makes me feel more alive than walking through a foreign street in gothic street style, knowing strangers are undressing me with their eyes.

This was a quick cafe stop on a travel day. Coffee, passport, suitcase full of latex and lace. I post the journey as much as the destination because the fantasy does not pause when I leave the convention hall.

Follow my travels here and on Pinterest — more pins, more cities, more moments where I wonder if someone in the next booth is thinking about me the way I want them to. Spoiler: they are.