A Northern Adventure

I’ve had an inability to put pen to paper lately.  Maybe it’s the fact that my mind is wandering all over the place lately.  I can’t seem to get my head right about where I want to live, or what I want to do, or who I want to love.  I thought all my hopeless problems would be solved when I moved back down south to savannah, but within a week or so I found myself missing the very city that I thought so much I could never stand.  I’m not exactly sure if it’s the city in general, or just the company that I surrounded myself with when I was there.  And it’s not to say that being back in savannah was a bad decision, I’ve had a hell of a lot of fun since I’ve been back, but I’m starting to think that I might just be stepping back into the stuck mud that I tried so hard to escape from a year ago.  Maybe not that I’m going to get stuck back there in the same pattern, things have changed a lot since last year; the city of Savannah is a constant tide of people.  I think the power of my parents words might finally be seeping in little by little.  Maybe just maybe, I’m starting to take some of what they say seriously, but definitely not all the way.  I’ll never give up my rambling life style, and I’m pretty sure my inability to commit to a home or a job or a love for more than a few years will stick with me till the day I die.  That’s just the way I’ll always be.  But I am getting a little tired of the constant feeling of being dead broke, not having a bed to call my own, and living from paycheck to paycheck.  I mean at one point in my life, when I was only 19 years old, somebody in a major corporation decided it would be a good idea to give me a salary job.  I was only making $26,000 a year, but at that age, that was a million bucks to me.  I believe that I fell into that job, just as a lottery winner scratches off their jackpot.  I had no doubt that I deserved that money, I worked my ass off for it, but it was definitely nice to have that.  Since then I’ve hopped around, done this and that, some jobs I liked, some not so much, made enough to get by, but I’m starting to think I want to do a little more than just “get by.”  I’m not talking about making millions of dollars, but I’d like to live comfortably again.  I’ve got this opportunity to go to work in North Carolina, in a town I’ve never lived nor do I know anyone there.  And at this point I’m almost thinking that’s a good thing.  I want to start fresh, and I mean really fresh, a city where I don’t know a soul around.  I just think I’m about ready to put another town and another bullet on my resume.

Like I tell a lot of people, at some point I think i called myself a writer.  I couldn’t sleep nights without jotting down a few illegible pages every night.  I didn’t realize it until i went home for the holidays and found some old journals, but i’ve been putting pen to paper since about the 3rd grade.  Granted my illegible ramblings back then were a little more simplified and packed with a lot more spelling errors, but you get the idea. 

So as I’m browsing through 15 years of my life stories, i found a few diamonds in the rough.  A few of my quick stabs at becoming a writer from a very young age.

a quick side note: i have no sense of most internet based technology and can’t find out how to single space format stuff, so all of this is going in quotes.

At some point in my life i know i thought i was going to be something great. I know that i had to think that i was going to be rich or famous or bring world peace or discover the cure for some horrible disease.  I just don’t think I realized at the time how hard it was going to be to get to that point.  I’m sure i’ll do something great eventually, i still got some years to go, but with the rough and tumble ahead, and no near sign of a real turning point, I’ve succumb to the fact that life is not as easy as i though it was going to be.  My hope is that all this shit that i’m going through right now will prove to be some sort of motivation for me to get it together, put one foot in front of the other and make something of myself.

So for that, there’s this:

There are troubled times, troubled lives, troubled pasts, troubled roads and troubled waters. There’s trouble in paradise, trouble in love and trouble in death.  There are troubled teens, troubled minds, and troubled souls.  There’s the trouble in trying too hard and the trouble in thinking you’re better that everyone.  There’s trouble in trying to live your own life, but there’s no trouble in actually living it.