I feel so stagnant. Something needs to change. I have to change something. I want to cut my hair short again. I’ve been looking at photos from Thailand, I like my hair short. Even though I know at the time, I just wanted it to be longer again. It’d also be a kind of “fuck you, world” statement. Ha ha. Just another cliché. I need to go to another country. Someplace else. Anywhere but Boston. I need more adventures, memories that stick out because they’re so odd. Even though I know, at the time, such adventures are AWKWARD and UNCOMFORTABLE.
Happiness is a bike. racing down mass ave at 3 am. random choice encounters. but only in small quantities.
[Hums] “I never loved nobody fully. Always kept one foot on the ground.”
Contentment is pulling myself out of sludge and WORKING on things. Making them done. And it’s not the DONE that’s happy, it’s the MAKING.
I like building things. Just like I like learning Spanish. Or Thai. It’s hard, but I should do it because it makes me happy. Instead of rotting into a soft sludge puddle of apathy.
I’ve been eating Boston too long. It’s that stomach ache rumble from too much candy. I didn’t think 3 summers was too much. Restless.
