(no subject)
It starts deep inside you. The unsettling tingle, the burst of volcanic eruption. It starts slow, like a faint itch, and as the days linger on it becomes unbearable. It's been a year since I've traveled and it's starting to wear on me. My brain keeps searching for familiarity and strangers faces, looking for someone who I haven't seen in or talked to in a long time. I keep thinking strangers are people from my past. This search for excitement started a few months ago and keeps progressing as life becomes more stagnant. Chelsea asked me a few weeks ago, as I explained to her of my need to escape, "Have you thought about just buying a ticket?" Have I thought about it?! I dream about it constantly. I would love nothing more than to drop everything, leave the technological world behind and give nothing but a hand written letter to those who cared about my whereabouts. I would love to run to the places I want to travel to and not have my phone ring, or need to check my e-mail. Go to a place where people don't know my history or family or anything more than my name. I don't think I'd do it for long, but a month or three would be fantastic.