#59.

i've got a mad case of the wanderlust; i need to go away. i need to leave. at least for a little while.

i need to experience so much more of life than what resides in this little city of 300,000. i need to breathe foreign air, to learn to think for myself, and to meet new people. and maybe, while doing that, meet other pieces of me that i hadn't known existed.

can't you tell that i am undergoing an existentialist crisis?

yesterday was a day spent in the harrows of nature, caked in bugspray and enjoyed in midst of a swarm of mosquitoes. but i was happy and i wish that it only lasted a little bit longer. it's always been a far-fetched dream that i would just hop into a car and just drive for miles on end; destination unknown. the wind would blow back my hair and i would be giddy because there will be no weights constraining me to reality--anything would be possible.

but then the music would stop and i would eventually have to stop driving. and everything will return to as it is. routine. mundane. dutiful.

will i ever start posting things worthy of reading? items that are important, that register outside my self-centred universe, rather than feverishly writing pages upon pages of little melancholic anecdotes of an over-dramatized pathetic existence?

truth is, i am far more optimistic and believing than what this blog shows. but when i am happy, i am too busy living and too lazy to cultivate my experiences into this cyberspace.

i think of it like this: at times, when you are too happy, it feels like your brain is going into overdrive because of all the joy and you are unable to come up with quaint and poetic descriptions to fully capture the happiness of the moment. like, no words in the written language can even begin to describe what you feel, the sights that you see, or the sounds that you hear. or maybe, you think of a word that is perfect but you can't seem to recall it. it is on the edge of your brain and you envision it to be like attempting to grab on an already fading wisp of smoke.

sometimes, i feel like that and i so wish that we had pensieves and can readily store our most important moments. so that when you can't remember how to be happy, you just stick your head in your pensieve and remember.

today, i went to work and sold people clothes. i folded up t-shirts, khaki capri pants, and attempted to engage in conversations with my co-workers. they are cold towards me because i am new and am stealing all of their hours. but i don't mind because i am earning money to pay off my credit card bill (remnants of poor budgeting from NYC 2011).

yesterday, i was determined to not give up on myself. i think i need to get away. not as an escape but to truly bid farewell to my beloved childhood. it's time to take responsibility. but i need some privacy; it's an emotional breakup.