'stuck'

is not a word I want to use anymore. I might as well make the best of living in this town. It's not too bad. I also don't want a new relationship.
But in less than a week I will be able to drink wine on my own couch, get in the hot tub whenever I want, take my dog for walks, for real this time.
I've got a few amazing friends and I'm grateful that they've been there for me through the really shitty times. Maddie McElveen and Brandon McCracken. I really couldn't be any more lucky, to have two strong, selfless people in my life.

SO, after four hours of sitting in a chair, (it's still a work in progress. gotta get shading.) -







I know I look really enthused. I had just woken up/hangover.
Glenn Collins, Broken Lantern Tattoo.

sort of.

I was reading 'Killing Yourself to Live' today and fell asleep. Not that Chuck Klosterman's books are boring, I was just sleepy. He's actually a genius without trying to be. I had the weirdest dreams, about everything I've ever subconsciously wanted, hated, and miss all at once in a period of about 5 hours until I woke up just in time for dinner. It was raining and I was in a car most of the time, talking and frowning, and texting.
Anyways, cleaning out my room is a long process and really bittersweet. Old camp letters, birthday cards from when I was turning 5, stupid things I saved that remind me of people I care(d) about. Most of it is in a pile outside my door or in drawers/the trashcan now. I feel like I'm on my deathbed, because that's what people make me feel like. "We have to hang out one last time before you go." But it's a good thing. Rebirth. I cleaned off all the writing on my mirrors and walls. 2 more weeks.

"We're all tourists, sort of. Life is tourism, sort of. As far as I'm concerned, the dinosaurs still hold the lease on this godforsaken rock."

-Chuck Klosterman.

gota take what i make and turn it into somethin'.

"The more people you know, the more problems you have."
The rumors I hear about me make me laugh, but they're so believable. I don't understand how people get so much pleasure in making up things about me. The only part about them that would bother me is losing people i care about. I think that I once deserved to be ridiculed and have death glares thrown in my direction, but I think that I deserve more than that now.
No place feels like home.
The other afternoon I was coming back from West Ashley, driving over the bridge, and my heart felt like it was about to burst I was so happy. The sun was setting, and all the windows were down. Everything was so much brighter, and I was singing without realizing it. That was short lived.
Honestly the only places that have ever felt like home were woods (they probably only felt like home because I had been climbing trees and digging since I could remember) and your arms (that sounds cliche, but I can't explain how alive I felt.)
I'm not necessarily running, just trying something new. I won't sit at home all day or run around aimlessly. It's a chance for me to focus.
I don't care who disagrees or doesn't believe in me. I'm doing this for myself. I don't need approval.
I won't be in Africa. A straight 99 mile road and you're there.