the hardest part about moving somewhere and feeling uncomfortable is knowing that that is how you’re supposed to feel and therefore you are doing it right and therefore you must stay. in other words; because i feel weird and sad and lonely here, i have to stay. because if i gave in to those feelings and quit, i would feel even worse. so rock and a hard place. i have no out. from now on, i have to spend an indefinite amount of time trying really hard to do something that i’m not really sure about in order to have a life experience and learn a lesson. i’m not going to have regrets in the future, and i’m certainly going to eliminate any prospective dreams i may have.

the only thing i feel like doing is writing. writing in my journal or on here or a letter to a friend or a girlfriend. i wish i could get paid for this. after all, i do have a 7 YEAR OLD ACCREDITED BLOG, so i’m more than qualified. i just want to get it all out. there’s so much shit in my head and i want it out on the table. that way i can look at it and figure it out. but that’s not how it works.

i feel like i should have all this eloquent advice to offer now that this is my second time doing this, but i don’t. also, it’s  way too soon and i’m giving myself way too much credit. 

i’m meant to start a new life here. the idea of that is weird. take all my stuff, move it to a new and unfamiliar place, start from square one. get a job, figure out how to parallel park, make new friends, find new parks/restaurants/bars/events that i like, maintain the relationships i already have, pursue my dream, or find a new one. i don’t know. i feel like my walls should be lined with paper and i should write all of my goals down and check them off as i do them. there wouldn’t be enough room.

thanks johnny. i'll love these forever.