12 December 2003
Yesterday, I was restless again.
Does this mean I am destined to feel this way every month or so?
I shouldn't feel so, I know. I'm in New York, for crying out loud! There are thousands, millions of opportunities here. Perhaps that is part of the reason why I get restless...? I know they're there, but I don't take them.
But I felt ever so restless in Minnesota too, on occasion.
To me, and perhaps others, being restless has always possessed a certain romantic quality to it. Always wanting more, always traveling, on the go. Isn't the lone wolf an admired character?
But it most certainly isn't so lovely when you're the one feeling so. All you know is you're plagued by something, and that you need to do something about it, only you don't know what to do. Maybe it stems from a certain dissatisfaction.
And I am dissatisfied, to a certain extent. There are so many people out there, doing things, and all I do is go to meaningless classes, because it's the safe route. "Everyone goes to college after high school. And those who don't, well they don't end up well," my mother said when I brought up a desire to take a year off after high school.
I wanted to so badly. I feel like I've never really lived. I wanted to experience being unsafe, independent. I wanted to be free, to not always have money, food, shelter. To know what it's like to have to sleep under a luminous sky of stars. Even to know what it's like to sleep in a dirty alleyway.
What made me agree, albeit very reluctantly, with my mother? Fear. Fear of the unknown. We hear so many things about how the world is a dangerous place these days. Everyday, we are inundated with news stories about rapes, murders, natural disasters.
What if I should end up somewhere dead?
What if I should end up somewhere exuberant from life?
Does this mean I am destined to feel this way every month or so?
I shouldn't feel so, I know. I'm in New York, for crying out loud! There are thousands, millions of opportunities here. Perhaps that is part of the reason why I get restless...? I know they're there, but I don't take them.
But I felt ever so restless in Minnesota too, on occasion.
To me, and perhaps others, being restless has always possessed a certain romantic quality to it. Always wanting more, always traveling, on the go. Isn't the lone wolf an admired character?
But it most certainly isn't so lovely when you're the one feeling so. All you know is you're plagued by something, and that you need to do something about it, only you don't know what to do. Maybe it stems from a certain dissatisfaction.
And I am dissatisfied, to a certain extent. There are so many people out there, doing things, and all I do is go to meaningless classes, because it's the safe route. "Everyone goes to college after high school. And those who don't, well they don't end up well," my mother said when I brought up a desire to take a year off after high school.
I wanted to so badly. I feel like I've never really lived. I wanted to experience being unsafe, independent. I wanted to be free, to not always have money, food, shelter. To know what it's like to have to sleep under a luminous sky of stars. Even to know what it's like to sleep in a dirty alleyway.
What made me agree, albeit very reluctantly, with my mother? Fear. Fear of the unknown. We hear so many things about how the world is a dangerous place these days. Everyday, we are inundated with news stories about rapes, murders, natural disasters.
What if I should end up somewhere dead?
What if I should end up somewhere exuberant from life?