(no subject)
So the best part about having a generally-abandoned journal is that I can ramble, rant, pour out my soul into binary and be just another dusty entry on a dying website.
I've been running away since I was 17. Not the kind that involve police chases and mass searches, everyone has always known where I am.
But I've been running away.
First it was New Orleans, for university, and when that didn't work out and my life came crashing down around my ears thanks to someone's inability to distinguish spam email (true, painful story), not to mention my own passiveness, stupidity, and general fear, I ran away again. Then when I felt suffocated by Tokyo, there was my next run, all the way to Austin. Now I'm sitting here, typing this up while I prepare for another move in the city, another semester of graduate school. Another semester of being overwhelmed and underperforming. Business as usual, I suppose.
I should have taken the easy way out. State university. Some degree I would never use (check?). Meet some corn-fed Mississippi boy, graduate with an MRS, settle down somewhere outside of Starkville and raise the requisite 2.5 children. Ignore the call of 'getting out and realizing dreams', ignore any fantasy I had. Ignore things that I want that aren't meant to be, even if the thought helps me sleep at night. The rest can be denied.
That way, I would have known exactly what I was in for.
And I wouldn't have to be disappointed.
I've been running away since I was 17. Not the kind that involve police chases and mass searches, everyone has always known where I am.
But I've been running away.
First it was New Orleans, for university, and when that didn't work out and my life came crashing down around my ears thanks to someone's inability to distinguish spam email (true, painful story), not to mention my own passiveness, stupidity, and general fear, I ran away again. Then when I felt suffocated by Tokyo, there was my next run, all the way to Austin. Now I'm sitting here, typing this up while I prepare for another move in the city, another semester of graduate school. Another semester of being overwhelmed and underperforming. Business as usual, I suppose.
I should have taken the easy way out. State university. Some degree I would never use (check?). Meet some corn-fed Mississippi boy, graduate with an MRS, settle down somewhere outside of Starkville and raise the requisite 2.5 children. Ignore the call of 'getting out and realizing dreams', ignore any fantasy I had. Ignore things that I want that aren't meant to be, even if the thought helps me sleep at night. The rest can be denied.
That way, I would have known exactly what I was in for.
And I wouldn't have to be disappointed.