jackiealexis

My wanderlust is really welling up inside of me right now.

And it's not what you think. I'm not sitting here hating where I'm at; this town, this state. I love finding things to do here, entertaining myself with it's small town quirks. Looking past it's inhabitants predominately blah attitudes and politics.

but still.

I sit and gaze out at the big farm field behind the house. And it looks exotic. It looks other wordly. It looks kind of like England.





I have a silly dream of living atop a shop on a "high street" or really any street in a small seaside town in England. No joke.



Or one in the hills of Bath. Or a cottage in the moors. It's really not contained to England I don't think, but that's my fixation right now, I think partially because I've actually been there..... ridden through the hills to Stratford Upon Avon listenting to the Chemical Brothers Sunshine Underground.

I've taken to watching webcams to somewhat satisfy my wanderlust....through voyuerism.

I don't want to run away from something; I want to run to something, perhaps? I'm not sure what.

To myself perhaps, as I am feeling annoyingly borderline right now about every little thing and it consumes me to a point of exhaustion. I am losing myself. Whim and fancy and impulse is fine, but trying to be someone who you are not isn't.

* Current Music: locusts,crickets, and the highway, a rather soothing mix.