Home.

3 am and I’m missing home. Maybe cause I’m tired, and a little sleep deprived. I wonder if I’m making the right decision, if heading for the hills of Italy is better than going to the land which you currently call home and spending days there. I am tired of the city. Tired of the cement. The concrete. The brick. I’m tired of seeing rats scurrying into grates. Of walking and smelling the offensive effluvium of vinegar soaked rubbish. I’m tired of worrying where my money is going to come from. One day I’m tired of wandering. The next I’m back at it. So I don’t fully trust my momentary inclinations. Nor am I willing to tailspin for my emotions. I’m just tired. Need sleep. Need my bed. Need cuddles. And deep breaths. I need the world to leave me alone for a while. Except now I’m going to Italy to do a work exchange, and though it will be beautiful will not a part of my rebellious spirit, fatigued by my time as guest in the space of strangers, rear its head? Surely it will. Surely life is fraught with things I don’t really want to do and I’ve got to do them. Anyways I don’t know where this is going. I’m just ready to sleep. So goodnight.

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2 thoughts on “Home.

  1. How can Papa receive your blogs? In his email? You will love Tuscany. No more noxious odors and not much concrete. Have the time of your life there!!!

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