
The truth is most days I dream of running away,
The truth is most days I dream of running away
I’m not sure where to yet but I think it would have to be someplace warm, not warm like the place I’ve found myself at recently, but somewhere new, where the warmth from the sun can seep through me and into my pores to liven me up.
Maybe I could pick up a new hobby or two in a town where nobody knows my name, start fresh, make a new version of myself that I would actually like to be.
I can see it, bounding around to get to yoga on the beach, scorching sand beneath my feet, running around until I find a store with a million and one books to read. With those books I can go to a coffee shop and really immerse myself, truly study what I think.
Study what I think…
I can’t do that here, no. There is too much life going on around me to even eat. After awhile the book stores here have lost their appeal and the yoga around town no longer stretches me around to feel.
You see being 21 used to symbolize to me that I would have time to breathe, a period to let go and just be me, and I do that all the time…. but it’s not everything I thought it would be.
The problem with going out and enjoying a night with friends is that no matter how much you drink you still have to get up in a few hours and double down on who you want to be.
Who do I want to be?
I’m not sure.
Nobody want to tell you how it really is, that if you want to be someone who is something you have to unlearn how you live.
Start from the ground up and dig deep and no longer run away.
Make something out of nothing, lemons to lemonade.






