Runaway

I'm back in New York and I already miss Savannah. Savannah with its clear blue sky and warm sunny days. Can summer come sooner to Central New York?

One day I'll runaway. Runaway to a warm sandy beach and dig my feet into the sand. I'll swim out into the sea and never return...

Today's song: The National - Runaway

Why?

I was driving home the other night, my back in pain, a little stressed out at work and at school, a bit worried that my car could lose traction at any time, and I found myself asking that question, the one most of us seem to ask ourselves at one point or another. Or at least in my circumstance, quite a lot. Why? Why are you doing this? And I think the answer to this questions is always complicated because it's never a single answer like some epiphany you hope to glean from some recent surprising experience. Or maybe it's not complicated but muli faceted? And that the answer may be part logical but mostly irrational. A mixture of fear of not accomplishing anything worthwhile and working at a company for the rest of my life and a naive sense of hope/optimism or belief that things will be work themselves out and it will be better. Or maybe there's a part of me that likes the pain?

I dunno.