Every day is a new adventure, and I imagine living in each new city that I visit. It’s me, the side that wants to stay in one place, filling my head with urgent possibilities.
Radiohead is on and I’m eating an iced lemon croissant, reminding me of when I was little and I used to insist on having lemon cake every year for my birthday. I used to love lemon flavored things, but I don’t eat lemon cake anymore.
I know I’m not ready to settle. I’m inspired or not inspired by so many things pulling me in every direction. I think I can be happy everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It’s the delusions of choice my generation and nationality has given to me. It’s the fate of a Gemini and the indecisive spirt I’ve always relied on. I get flashes of the past more often these days, wondering if there’s meaning behind it or if it’s simply the necessary romantics of the road.
Maybe I’m looking for something to make me stay, but maybe I’m afraid of finding the thing that will make me stagnant, knowing when I do this era of my life will cease to exist.
Maybe I don’t want to make the wrong choice, so I just keep making new ones that open more doors and more choices. I trust that I’ll know it in that familiar way when I find what I’m looking for…or not looking for.
I’m packing up my backpack tonight and saying hello again to the inconsistencies of the road, but it’s the comforting controlled chaos of it that makes me feel at home.
The realization that maybe mayhem really is beautiful.
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