pav

After months and months at a job that filled me with an overwhelming urge to escape (my job, my body, the country, etc), I'm starting to get the feeling I overcorrected.

So now that I quit last Friday, I'll be going off to Florida for two weeks to see friends and then later in August will be off to Poland to see family.

As is all too common, the constant voice in my head screaming "get me out of here" gets drowned out by a Gregorian chorus chanting "what the fuck are we doing?" ...At least I'm pretty sure that's what they're saying. I don't speak Latin. All I know is they're rocking some seriously sinister vibes and the shape of the inside of my skull makes for painfully good acoustics.

So before even seeing my old friends (that I've inevitably grown apart from) and seeing my family (that I never really liked in the first place) I'm feeling some premature regret.

Regret that's heightened by my newly rediscovered love for NYC and the people in it. I don't know why. Maybe because it's such an insane place, it makes me feel at home like nowhere else.

So why the hell am I crossing planets n'shit when everything is right under my nose? Maybe you have to give parts of your past a proper burial before you can move ahead unhaunted.