On a Holiday

December 15, 2013

For a second there, I thought I might have been able to slip away on a mostly impromptu, short solo trip during my winter break. But then I realized I lost the weekend because of my other commitments.

Sometimes I forget what loneliness can really feel like, and then I have to think back to that moment in my shroom trip in Amsterdam where I was perpetually thinking that I would eventually die alone. It sometimes makes me feel better knowing that I have my family and friends here so locally, but then there’s still that uncomfortable sensation that I’m still alone– which is not actually a sensation at all, but a reality I experience because I often do it to myself. I suppose, then, that the needle isn’t so far to the right of the scale– where “restless, irritated; wanderlust” is on the left end, and “accepted, embraced; staying” is on the right end– as I thought.

One day I will go on a spontaneous trip somewhere and I won’t tell anyone. I recently watched Frances Ha, and even those short scenes where she ended up traveling to Paris for the weekend was enough to make me want to do what she was doing because it reminded me a lot of what I did: not much. But it was so blissful. The thought of being in some place that EVERYONE you know is not expecting you to be at, is (in a non-emo way) beautiful. I’m not in possession of my passport, though. So if I do impetuously go somewhere one of these days, it’ll be domestic.

Looks like the year is going to end in a few weeks. What the fuck.


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