(no subject)
I have really been struggling with this recent development in my age. Most of the time it doesn't bother me. Some days I feel on deaths doorstep. I'm turning into a firkin hypochondriac. I wish I could go to the doc and get EVERYTHING checked.
I'm getting very restless as well. I need to go someplace. I haven't been out of state since Pride in NY last year. A year in Indiana without leaving. I'll admit sometimes I don't hate this state. It can be very beautiful here sometimes. Still though. I was born with wondering feet. I get this itch, and I start thinking about other places. Places around the world, places on this continent, places I have already been, places I have not been, places I haven't even ever herd of and don't even know if really exist outside of my mind. Then, the longer I go without traveling, the more the itch grows. Like untreated poison sumac. It starts on your toe. Then it spreads a little. Right up your leg. It's bad to scratch, so you just ignore it, but its getting worse. Soon, it will take hold of my mind, my vision will narrow, and the only thing I will be able to see is long roads, leading away, airports with strange people, that strange gas station in the middle of nowhere about halfway to your destination. You know the one. The one you stop at for a bathroom, gas, smokes, and to stretch your legs. The one you know you will never see again. I love that feeling. Standing in some meaningless place, and just letting the world slide by without you for a moment. Maybe, deep down that's where the itch comes from. The deep desire to step out, if just for a moment, and let the world slip by without me. That's when I truly grow wings and fly. I guess until then I will just... perch in this cage, and tell myself it's ok. One of these days I won't come back though. One day...I just won't step back in.
I'm getting very restless as well. I need to go someplace. I haven't been out of state since Pride in NY last year. A year in Indiana without leaving. I'll admit sometimes I don't hate this state. It can be very beautiful here sometimes. Still though. I was born with wondering feet. I get this itch, and I start thinking about other places. Places around the world, places on this continent, places I have already been, places I have not been, places I haven't even ever herd of and don't even know if really exist outside of my mind. Then, the longer I go without traveling, the more the itch grows. Like untreated poison sumac. It starts on your toe. Then it spreads a little. Right up your leg. It's bad to scratch, so you just ignore it, but its getting worse. Soon, it will take hold of my mind, my vision will narrow, and the only thing I will be able to see is long roads, leading away, airports with strange people, that strange gas station in the middle of nowhere about halfway to your destination. You know the one. The one you stop at for a bathroom, gas, smokes, and to stretch your legs. The one you know you will never see again. I love that feeling. Standing in some meaningless place, and just letting the world slide by without you for a moment. Maybe, deep down that's where the itch comes from. The deep desire to step out, if just for a moment, and let the world slip by without me. That's when I truly grow wings and fly. I guess until then I will just... perch in this cage, and tell myself it's ok. One of these days I won't come back though. One day...I just won't step back in.