I coast through downtown Beverly Hills.

One hand firmly gripped on the leather steering wheel.

The other wrapped around the gear shifter.

The ear-piercing rap relaxes my body

as the violent bass vibrates the entire vehicle.

The blaring music monopolizes my mind:

silencing the roar of the beastly engine,

but also drowning out my stress and anxiety.

90210, you have me living in the moment.

As Travis Scott blesses my ears,

my eyes absorb the vibrant atmosphere.

While weaving in and out of traffic I notice:

elegant palm trees lining the sidewalks,

enormous skyscrapers towering over the streets,

and exotic residences resting on the hills.

I can’t ignore my desire for this lifestyle.

90210, your beauty doesn’t go unnoticed.

Before I know it,

my vacation is in the rearview mirror:

I’m back on the freeway heading home

and the unparalleled happiness I just acquired

only exists as a memory,

because every great experience must come to an end.

My daily responsibilities can not be ignored any longer.

90210; this is goodbye but not farewell.

I direct my attention toward the road ahead

which is wide open but filled with potential.

I firmly grip the steering wheel with both hands

because my life is a car, I'm the driver,

and it’s time to take complete ownership of my future.

Hope and determination have arisen.

And I will one day return to glory,

but won’t be leaving once I’m back.

90210, you will be my home.