silverrevolver

I left my job last week.

Normally when I leave a shit job I feel light, free of a burden that I know I did't really need anyways. This time it's different, I can't help but feel that I might have made a mistake. Worry and guilt plauge my mind, as I try to figure out what the difference is. I think I know what it is.

You/Her (depending on the pespective of the reader)

When it's me alone no one else has to suffer, it's fine, I even in enjoy my suffering (but you all knew that). When someone else has to suffer with you, when they have already suffered through a year of me being unable to get paid work (for whatever reason), I am not eager to be in any sort of like situation again soon. Birmingham is not exactly the cultural center it would like to be, on top of already troubled economic times, finding a suitible job may be difficult. It's keeping me up nights.

I am reminded of France, except in France I had friends to call, so lonlieness on top of guilt. I know it's temporary, i just wish I could snap my fingers and make it all right, isn't that all anyone ever wants?

Times like this make me think, and think and think. My head is wound like an expensive watch. All conflict and doubt. I've been a vagabond too long, I want a life, as complete as it was, but that's not enough, not by a longshot. I feel it's time I take my place in the world, make my mark, whatever that is. I'm not content to just float by anymore I want to do something, something worthwhile. I just need to face in that direction... any direction

I'm also missn' America somthin' fierce right now...