The Wanderlust Misfit

Don't Run From Anything, Run Towards Everything

Won’t Write

I’ve gotten bent out of shape, hollow in the heart and empty in the head. It happens every so often, the swings of melancholy and I believe it stems from loneliness. I have trouble writing, feel a seeping doubt that I don’t believe in and all I want to do is sleep, wake up a new day all fresh and excited to pull the train down the track. But not today, or yesterday, though Greg said he’d read the blog and really enjoyed it, saying this unprompted of course since I’d forgotten I’d told him about it, and that made me happy a bit till I went to write and couldn’t and now I’m in a slump. And I was so happy yesterday! Excited and moving and I met people and dreamed down strange streets with diamonds in my eyes, singing loud and watching airplanes looking straight up while I walked, just acting real crazy and frenetic enjoying everyone staring at me because it soothes knowing you’re different and the stares know you’ve done it, denied the system and found the bliss along perimeters and cliffs.


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