It seems as if I'm telling everyone a different story. I want to move to the bay area of California. I want to be unfamiliar with places and people. I want to write in a comfortable and clear environment. I want to take classes and learn Spanish.
Being the naive and hopeful person that I am, staying in Boston creates the opportunity for me to correct any relationships that went sour. I am in no way bitter toward any of my former friendships or girlfriends, but am eager to shed some positive light on them before they completely vanish. I sincerely miss the random, meaningless moments in a day:
- Driving around Hyde Park in my Volvo Stationwagon with Lee in the front seat babbling about something ridiculous and June laughing in the back seat. Fuck, I miss that.
- Sitting, drinking at Razzy's with John, June, Lee, Darrick, and whoever else we come across that night. Watching everyone make a drunken fool of themselves at karaoke.
The idea of sticking around is becoming increasingly stale. I'm too comfortable here. If I do stay, I envision myself giving biased advice to friends and girlfriends past. I see myself wasting time, and getting nothing accomplished.
To those dissatisfied with their lives thus far, I know that a spontaneous leap into the unknown is not always the answer. For some, it's working 50 hour weeks, drinking and smoking yourself retarded, having meaningless sex, and filling space. Not me. To me, what it all comes down to is this. When it's all said and done, I want to look back on my life here with a big fucking smile on my face.
