You can look back a few blogs and see the times when I was counting down the days to move out to San Diego, in four days I move back home to Indy. I called San Diego home but it was anything but home. I could never really live here. It's has been a blast but it is just not me. And now I am headed home to see what is the next step.
I don't even know at this point.
I feel like everything I have had in the last year or so is just temporary. Friends have came and went. I have been across the entire US, other countries, other continents, never long enough to get comfortable.
I haven't had a home since June. Home seems to be an important thing to have. So many people refer to it but are never there. We are always out and about, turning over new stones, (sometimes boulders) meeting new people to replace the old- and in the end the new, too, will become old. Your best of friends find ways to replace you without even trying. Married off, far far away. Or maybe they aren't so far in distance but things just aren't the same. ...And why would they be, who wants to be a bachelor their entire life. Not me. Someday I will not notice that I have gone astray with a new found love. Ah so much to do. I just have to find where Home is first...
I remember the days when I would sit infront of my parents house late at night after work before I went back to the apartment that didn't cost enough to have luxuries like the internet. In those times, I would look at facebook and try to figure out who were going to be the cool kids, who I would like and dislike. I searched for cool things in SD. I waste a lot of time trying to figure out how I was going to make San Diego work. In hind sight I would have done things differently- wouldn't we all? No use crying over spilled milk, unless of course you are a Roadie and you dont make any money and when you spill your milk you cant have cereal and when you dont have your breakfast you eat your lunch to soon and if you eat too soon you lose all of your energy for the day and then you cant get done what you need to get done in order to save east Africa from a war that already seemed impossible to stop and now you think about how you would have done things differently and just bought those fool-proof breakfast bars that have the milk and the cereal combined in one nice package. Story of my life.
In all honestly though, this house will hold some of my favorite times locked inside of its stupid So-Cal walls. Space parties and ghost stories. Capture the flag and hard conversations to be had. Veggie burgers and beer brats. Too many people and too few spoons. Nights when I had too much to drink and nights when I wasn't even invited. Freshly baked stale bread that a landlord brought over and you are determined to make it last the week. I have swooned over too many girls and I'm sure it has been seen by all.
I can say that to this point I have done some rad things. People often tell me how jealous they are that they didn't careless drop everything they were doing for their attempt at saving the world. Oh if money weren't an issue I would continue- attempt after failed attempt. Every attempt counts towards something though I am sure.
I am excited to get back in the groove though. Playing music and making art. Going to church on a regular basis and back in school (for the time being. Thats a whole other blog in itself.)
Well the night has gone on for entirely way to long. I have small African children to save in the morning.
Godspeed. (what does that even mean.)
ps. I am too tired to proof read this. Sorry.
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