Intoxicated Hands

[janeanger]

It feels more and more like the right decision every day. I dream about it every night: living in Philly the way I lived in Wilmington, the new friends, the new haunts, the live music, the way I'd look against the backdrop of those dirty streets. It feels like home in my made-up version of it, but I know well enough that if I can make Charlotte feel like that - and it does, it has - then Philly, the place I already have such a fondness for, will be the perfect place for me to do some rediscovery. Just me, and Boo, and a glass or two of wine every night before I settle in to bed with my laptop and a good book. Or even a mediocre book. But a book that I am reading, because the rediscovered me reads. And she writes. And she tries on her new underwear in front of photobooth and she loves what she sees. She is rounder than she used to be, and she fucking loves it. She fucking rocks it. She is strong and smiling and creating. She is making things for the first time in over a year, and crap or not, she is overjoyed by the process alone.

And if I am all of these things here, in this place where I so obviously do not belong, then just imagine how I will bloom in a place that feeds me, nurtures me, inspires me. Just imagine what I'll be up to then - I do. I guarantee it won't be mediocre.