"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings." ~Lewis Carroll
I guess I was feeling pretty nostalgic as I awoke to my text message and could only stare at the ceiling. I know who it is. I don't need to look at it. I get texts from the same person everyday all day long and often times I wonder who I am this year. Perhaps this nomadic life has given me several lives and each year does not just bring a new level of character (or lack thereof) but a fresh start. How many people can I be? Is it the pills that make me act differently, unafraid of consequence or am just experiencing normal?
I was writing a letter to my 10 year-old self last night. I was telling her that life will not be as you imagined. You will not become the next Michael Jordan. You will not go to Yale. You will not have a steady job at 25 or a stable boyfriend. I'm not sure I wanted the latter at ten, but I'm certain I figured it would happen. You will cave into the shadow of homosexuality, a fate that scared the shit out of you at ten, but you did not understand it. You do now. "Shit" is all you have to say for yourself. You have never done drugs, never crashed a car, you always wake-up sober. You take your job seriously, dress appropriately, speak eloquently when provoked. The last one is a lie, but is sounded cool. You are better at being away from home, but the homesickness still stings, you just bury it and drive away. You know deep inside that you belong somewhere else, but you're a stubborn motherfucker,,,you still have a foul mouth. You are better at talking to new people than you used to be. This ability has been both a blessing and a curse. It has changed you.
