things are looking up, oh finally.
i thought i’d never see the day
when you’d smile at me
we always pull through,
oh when we try.
i’m always wrong but,
you’re never right.
I have said before that I am often more content when I am on the road, away from home, than when I am here, in this nucleus of familiarity.
What happens, though, if the road gets familiar? The road feels like home. The lostness increases yet, is no longer lostness but foundness?
honestly, can you believe,
we crossed the world while it’s asleep?
i’d never trade it in,
‘cause i’ve always wanted this and
it’s not a dream anymore,
it’s worth fighting for.
My life has recently started making a bit more sense. I have work—and more impending work—and travel plans and a slightly straighter direction for my ambition. At least in the next two months with the road/the air in my future. I can no longer linger in my distraction, yet channel that energy into creative pursuits: writing, being, creating. Creating my life.
could have given up so easily
i was a few cheap shots away
from the end of me.
taking for granted most everything
that i would have died for
I feel like I write about the same things all the time—and I think, to an extent, I have been for longer than I have really realized.
we age more slowly when we move quickly versus standing still.
Writing on the problem, the frustration, the constraint of stillness—of routine, of not embracing chaos. Lostness is chaos. Movement—or lack-there-of. I’ve reiterated—recently—about lostness. The joy, specifically in the past, of being on the road—or in the air. The chaos of losing much, if not all, routine.
The chaos is beautiful.
Because there is nothing to anticipate when you are lost, beyond becoming found. Lostness is uncharted territory. Unfortunately, it is also not sustainable—or, not self-sustainable. Eventually, you become found in lostness. It’s chaos no longer welcoming. I don’t want to get to that point.
I want to keep moving. Forward. Dynamically. (I suppose static moves as well, just it doesn’t go anywhere. The current does, but the static itself does not.)
I spent the evening watching a season of Roadtrip Nation. One time, my friend Tara said her sister wanted to have the experience of living in a van. Well, an RV is kind of like a giant van [sort of. If you are creative or squint or whatever]. Since that point, I shared that desire. Because that sounds awesome.
[…] we’re just getting started.
looking up, paramore.
There is a certain chaos associated with being on the road. [And, to a different sort of chaotic vibe, in airports. And in the fact that airplanes involve people being in the sky.]
Opportunity is finding its way to me, perhaps. But I feel like I am standing still. I need to find my way to it. And the typical road maps to that aren’t working anymore. So where do I find the atypical ones? Maybe, in that confusion, in that chaos.
And I hope, to a deeper level, I can make that chaos a part of my future plans. In exploring this lostness, explore my world, too. I can dream. Maybe I’m only now realizing the truth of that statement.
I can dream.
And that can