I’m a restless little worker bee. Always thinking the grass is greener somewhere else, never realizing that every time I look back on my life I only see the good. A late-blooming optimist with burdens of a fake pessimist. Can’t I just be? My restlessness makes me nomadic and I wander all over the place never truly settling. My favorite place to be is in transit.
New York City is weird. I’ve done things I never thought I’d see in this lifetime. I fuck around with so many different breeds of people I’m beginning to question why. My motives? Please, they don’t even exist. I have no motives, just opportunities that fall into my lap. A person with heavy will would turn many down, but I can’t say no. And I confuse myself (and others) by my complicated theories and choosy wants. On one hand, I’ll steal you into a forbidden room and have my way with you only to politely abolish any hint of attraction the very following day. Sometimes, I convince myself to fuck with you through any written word, and then when I see you in person I continue these games for my own self pleasure. But you know I always cave and find myself naked in your shower after storming through your front door in a fiery burst of gregarious and exaggerated movements. A spiraling ball of chaos, sometimes my antics even surprise myself. Like that time in bed when I rolled over and made the first move knowing quite well this was much too intimate for us two friends to be sharing together. And I outwardly love these behaviors, but not everyone in my life approves.
I guess I’m exhausted of looking like the lost cause. People have come to my mercy and offered to help pay my way, provide for me, guide me. It’s so abundant and in my face that lately I can’t help but look inwardly at myself. Do they see something I don’t? I have so much fun in my experiences even if they sometimes are dangerous or morally inappropriate; but it’s a life noteworthy and exalting that it titillates every cell in my body.
There is this one itch I can’t get over. I want to move to the beach, somewhere exotic, and give up this life to take a mental detour. I want to work a shit-job and surf all day long. I want to own a jet-ski rental company and enjoy the freest things in life, with people who love to lay in the sun and drink everyday. It’s just for me. And I hope I get my shit together soon enough that my escapism can ravish my bones. I need money, I need to write about all of my ins and outs, ups and downs, and I need to stop giving a fuck about who I need to make happy. The only person I need to please is myself and in exchange I will give back to the community with good humor, good intentions, and a helping hand.