BLACKING OUT THE FRICTION

In my world, I write with the lights off and the music on. I'm momentarily free of distortion, so I'll write while I can; knowing full well that this desire will soon fade. It won't be long until I feel the need to run from these keys because that's what I like to do.

I'm feeling heavy and confused, currently. I'm wondering if I'm destined to work in a restaurant all of my life. And I'm not even asking in that despondent kind of way because if I was told that that's where I was supposed to be, I would do it. But it's the not knowing that is tearing a fucking hole in my head. It's the questions and the un-answers that leave me wounded and confused and scared.

So I sit here, at 1952 Mulberry St., pondering my new existence as a city dweller. Because of work I've been unable to anchor myself here which has defeated the purpose of living here. I think that soon it will remedy itself but in the mean time, it's hard. I miss my friends. This distance, while not fatal, often leaves me with the feeling of being alone. I miss those girls and silently fear that I will not be there to see them grow up. I don't know if I would forgive myself for that.

It's not all bad. I feel like I'm growing up and learning some things about myself, which is good. I feel like I'm becoming something new, whether or not I know what that is yet. I guess these are just the growing pains they talk about....it's hard.

But I've got to believe it's worth it...