Fast forward one year later and it's basically the same stuff.
I'm older, I still love/hate you.
I got my degree now and a fifth of a grown-up job.
Running away yet again.
Trying to figure how to make it last longer.
Hoping to find myself somewhere between treks.
I've been working like crazy to be able to afford this trip, and it's been working well. Until now. I kinda forgot what it is to be alone and just let my curiousity and creativeness go wild. I just have no time. The books keep piling up and ain't nobody reading them. The room's a mess, and there's no one to care. I mostly sleep here. Watch TV shows before bed.
Been taking shit care of myself. Haven't worked out in months, I don't eat enough, and when I do - it's shit. I smoke a lot of weed and rarely say no to a drink, or going out, generally. Escapism at its best.
I just wanna travel and chill. Preferably all alone. But life is just around the corner with moving to Tel Aviv and adulting. I hate this, and I hate you, and probably myself too. Teenage angst has never left the house.